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and that Play consists of whatever a body is not obliged to do. And `
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this would help him to understand why constructing artificial flowers `
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or performing on a tread-mill is work, while rolling ten-pins or `
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climbing Mont Blanc is only amusement. There are wealthy gentlemen in `
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England who drive four-horse passenger-coaches twenty or thirty miles `
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on a daily line, in the summer, because the privilege costs them `
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considerable money; but if they were offered wages for the service, `
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that would turn it into work and then they would resign. `
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The boy mused awhile over the substantial change which had taken place `
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in his worldly circumstances, and then wended toward headquarters to `
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report. `
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CHAPTER III `
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TOM presented himself before Aunt Polly, who was sitting by an open `
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window in a pleasant rearward apartment, which was bedroom, `
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breakfast-room, dining-room, and library, combined. The balmy summer `
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air, the restful quiet, the odor of the flowers, and the drowsing murmur `
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of the bees had had their effect, and she was nodding over her knitting `
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--for she had no company but the cat, and it was asleep in her lap. Her `
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spectacles were propped up on her gray head for safety. She had thought `
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that of course Tom had deserted long ago, and she wondered at seeing him `
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place himself in her power again in this intrepid way. He said: "Mayn't `
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I go and play now, aunt?" `
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"What, a'ready? How much have you done?" `
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"It's all done, aunt." `
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"Tom, don't lie to me--I can't bear it." `
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"I ain't, aunt; it IS all done." `
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Aunt Polly placed small trust in such evidence. She went out to see `
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for herself; and she would have been content to find twenty per cent. `
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of Tom's statement true. When she found the entire fence whitewashed, `
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and not only whitewashed but elaborately coated and recoated, and even `
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a streak added to the ground, her astonishment was almost unspeakable. `
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She said: `
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`
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"Well, I never! There's no getting round it, you can work when you're `
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a mind to, Tom." And then she diluted the compliment by adding, "But `
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it's powerful seldom you're a mind to, I'm bound to say. Well, go 'long `
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and play; but mind you get back some time in a week, or I'll tan you." `
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She was so overcome by the splendor of his achievement that she took `
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him into the closet and selected a choice apple and delivered it to `
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him, along with an improving lecture upon the added value and flavor a `
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treat took to itself when it came without sin through virtuous effort. `
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And while she closed with a happy Scriptural flourish, he "hooked" a `
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doughnut. `
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Then he skipped out, and saw Sid just starting up the outside stairway `
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that led to the back rooms on the second floor. Clods were handy and `
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the air was full of them in a twinkling. They raged around Sid like a `
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hail-storm; and before Aunt Polly could collect her surprised faculties `
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and sally to the rescue, six or seven clods had taken personal effect, `
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and Tom was over the fence and gone. There was a gate, but as a general `
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thing he was too crowded for time to make use of it. His soul was at `
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peace, now that he had settled with Sid for calling attention to his `
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black thread and getting him into trouble. `
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Tom skirted the block, and came round into a muddy alley that led by `
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the back of his aunt's cow-stable. He presently got safely beyond the `
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reach of capture and punishment, and hastened toward the public square `
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of the village, where two "military" companies of boys had met for `
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conflict, according to previous appointment. Tom was General of one of `
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these armies, Joe Harper (a bosom friend) General of the other. These `
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two great commanders did not condescend to fight in person--that being `
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better suited to the still smaller fry--but sat together on an eminence `
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and conducted the field operations by orders delivered through `
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aides-de-camp. Tom's army won a great victory, after a long and `
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hard-fought battle. Then the dead were counted, prisoners exchanged, `
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the terms of the next disagreement agreed upon, and the day for the `
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necessary battle appointed; after which the armies fell into line and `
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marched away, and Tom turned homeward alone. `
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As he was passing by the house where Jeff Thatcher lived, he saw a new `
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girl in the garden--a lovely little blue-eyed creature with yellow hair `
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plaited into two long-tails, white summer frock and embroidered `
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pantalettes. The fresh-crowned hero fell without firing a shot. A `
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certain Amy Lawrence vanished out of his heart and left not even a `
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memory of herself behind. He had thought he loved her to distraction; `
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he had regarded his passion as adoration; and behold it was only a poor `
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little evanescent partiality. He had been months winning her; she had `
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confessed hardly a week ago; he had been the happiest and the proudest `
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boy in the world only seven short days, and here in one instant of time `
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she had gone out of his heart like a casual stranger whose visit is `
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done. `
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He worshipped this new angel with furtive eye, till he saw that she `
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had discovered him; then he pretended he did not know she was present, `
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and began to "show off" in all sorts of absurd boyish ways, in order to `
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win her admiration. He kept up this grotesque foolishness for some `
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time; but by-and-by, while he was in the midst of some dangerous `
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gymnastic performances, he glanced aside and saw that the little girl `
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was wending her way toward the house. Tom came up to the fence and `
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leaned on it, grieving, and hoping she would tarry yet awhile longer. `
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She halted a moment on the steps and then moved toward the door. Tom `
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heaved a great sigh as she put her foot on the threshold. But his face `
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lit up, right away, for she tossed a pansy over the fence a moment `
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before she disappeared. `
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The boy ran around and stopped within a foot or two of the flower, and `
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then shaded his eyes with his hand and began to look down street as if `
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he had discovered something of interest going on in that direction. `
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Presently he picked up a straw and began trying to balance it on his `
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nose, with his head tilted far back; and as he moved from side to side, `
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in his efforts, he edged nearer and nearer toward the pansy; finally `
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his bare foot rested upon it, his pliant toes closed upon it, and he `
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hopped away with the treasure and disappeared round the corner. But `
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only for a minute--only while he could button the flower inside his `
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jacket, next his heart--or next his stomach, possibly, for he was not `
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much posted in anatomy, and not hypercritical, anyway. `
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He returned, now, and hung about the fence till nightfall, "showing `
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off," as before; but the girl never exhibited herself again, though Tom `
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comforted himself a little with the hope that she had been near some `
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window, meantime, and been aware of his attentions. Finally he strode `
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home reluctantly, with his poor head full of visions. `
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All through supper his spirits were so high that his aunt wondered `
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"what had got into the child." He took a good scolding about clodding `
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Sid, and did not seem to mind it in the least. He tried to steal sugar `
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under his aunt's very nose, and got his knuckles rapped for it. He said: `
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"Aunt, you don't whack Sid when he takes it." `
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"Well, Sid don't torment a body the way you do. You'd be always into `
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that sugar if I warn't watching you." `
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Presently she stepped into the kitchen, and Sid, happy in his `
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immunity, reached for the sugar-bowl--a sort of glorying over Tom which `
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was wellnigh unbearable. But Sid's fingers slipped and the bowl dropped `
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and broke. Tom was in ecstasies. In such ecstasies that he even `
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controlled his tongue and was silent. He said to himself that he would `
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not speak a word, even when his aunt came in, but would sit perfectly `
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still till she asked who did the mischief; and then he would tell, and `
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there would be nothing so good in the world as to see that pet model `
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"catch it." He was so brimful of exultation that he could hardly hold `
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himself when the old lady came back and stood above the wreck `
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discharging lightnings of wrath from over her spectacles. He said to `
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himself, "Now it's coming!" And the next instant he was sprawling on `
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the floor! The potent palm was uplifted to strike again when Tom cried `
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out: `
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"Hold on, now, what 'er you belting ME for?--Sid broke it!" `
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Aunt Polly paused, perplexed, and Tom looked for healing pity. But `
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when she got her tongue again, she only said: `
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`
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"Umf! Well, you didn't get a lick amiss, I reckon. You been into some `
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other audacious mischief when I wasn't around, like enough." `
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Then her conscience reproached her, and she yearned to say something `
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kind and loving; but she judged that this would be construed into a `
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confession that she had been in the wrong, and discipline forbade that. `
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So she kept silence, and went about her affairs with a troubled heart. `
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Tom sulked in a corner and exalted his woes. He knew that in her heart `
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his aunt was on her knees to him, and he was morosely gratified by the `
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consciousness of it. He would hang out no signals, he would take notice `
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of none. He knew that a yearning glance fell upon him, now and then, `
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through a film of tears, but he refused recognition of it. He pictured `
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himself lying sick unto death and his aunt bending over him beseeching `
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one little forgiving word, but he would turn his face to the wall, and `
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die with that word unsaid. Ah, how would she feel then? And he pictured `
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himself brought home from the river, dead, with his curls all wet, and `
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his sore heart at rest. How she would throw herself upon him, and how `
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her tears would fall like rain, and her lips pray God to give her back `
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her boy and she would never, never abuse him any more! But he would lie `
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there cold and white and make no sign--a poor little sufferer, whose `
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griefs were at an end. He so worked upon his feelings with the pathos `
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of these dreams, that he had to keep swallowing, he was so like to `
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choke; and his eyes swam in a blur of water, which overflowed when he `
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winked, and ran down and trickled from the end of his nose. And such a `
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luxury to him was this petting of his sorrows, that he could not bear `
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to have any worldly cheeriness or any grating delight intrude upon it; `
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it was too sacred for such contact; and so, presently, when his cousin `
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Mary danced in, all alive with the joy of seeing home again after an `
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age-long visit of one week to the country, he got up and moved in `
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clouds and darkness out at one door as she brought song and sunshine in `
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at the other. `
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He wandered far from the accustomed haunts of boys, and sought `
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desolate places that were in harmony with his spirit. A log raft in the `
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river invited him, and he seated himself on its outer edge and `
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contemplated the dreary vastness of the stream, wishing, the while, `
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that he could only be drowned, all at once and unconsciously, without `
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undergoing the uncomfortable routine devised by nature. Then he thought `
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of his flower. He got it out, rumpled and wilted, and it mightily `
`
increased his dismal felicity. He wondered if she would pity him if she `
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knew? Would she cry, and wish that she had a right to put her arms `
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around his neck and comfort him? Or would she turn coldly away like all `
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the hollow world? This picture brought such an agony of pleasurable `
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suffering that he worked it over and over again in his mind and set it `
`
up in new and varied lights, till he wore it threadbare. At last he `
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rose up sighing and departed in the darkness. `
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