Oscar Part 2

"Well, I know who told you about it--'t was Bill Davenport, was n't it?" inquired Oscar.

Willie and Ralph were such great cronies, that Oscar's supposition was a very natural one. Indeed, Ralph could not deny it without telling a falsehood, and so he made no reply. Oscar, perceiving he had guessed right, added, in a contemptuous tone:

"The little, sneaking tell-tale--I 'll give him a good pounding for that, the first time I catch him."

"You 're too bad, Oscar," interposed his brother; "Willie did n't suppose you cared anything about standing before the blackboard--he only spoke of it because he thought it was something queer."

Seeing Oscar was in so unamiable a mood, Ralph said nothing more about the subject, at that time.

CHAPTER III.

PAYING OFF A GRUDGE.

The morning after the events just related, as Ralph was on his way to school, he fell in with Willie Davenport, or "Whistler," as he was often sportively called, by his playmates, in allusion to his fondness for a species of music to which most boys are more or less addicted.

And I may as well say here, that he was a very good whistler, and came honestly by the t.i.tle by which he was distinguished among his fellows.

His quick ear caught all the new and popular melodies of the day, before they became threadbare, which gave his whistling an air of freshness and novelty that few could rival. It was to this circ.u.mstance--the quality of his whistling, rather than the quant.i.ty--that he was chiefly indebted for the name of Whistler. Nor was he ashamed of his nickname, as he certainly had no need to be; for it was not applied to him in derision, but playfully and good-naturedly.

Whistler and Ralph were good friends. There was a difference of between two and three years in their ages, Whistler being about twelve years old; but their dispositions harmonized together well, and quite a strong friendship had grown up between them. A very different feeling, however, had for some time existed between Oscar and Whistler. They were in the same cla.s.s at school; but Whistler studied hard, and thus, though much younger than Oscar, he stood far before him as a scholar.

This awakened some feeling of resentment in Oscar, and he never let slip any opportunity for annoying or mortifying his more industrious and successful cla.s.s-mate.

On their way to school, on the morning in question, Ralph told Whistler of Oscar's threat, and advised him to avoid his brother as much as possible, for a day or two, until the affair of the blackboard should pa.s.s from his mind. Whistler heeded this caution, and was careful not to put himself in the way of his enemy. He succeeded in eluding him through the day, and was on his way home from school in the afternoon, when Oscar, who he thought had gone off in another direction, suddenly appeared at his side.

"You little tell-tale, you," cried Oscar, "what did you tell Ralph about the blackboard for! I 'll learn you to mind your own business, next time, you mean, sneaking meddler. Take that--and that," he continued, giving Whistler several hard blows with his fist. The latter attempted to dodge the blows, but did not return them, for this he knew would only increase the anger of Oscar, who was so much his superior in size and strength, as well as in the art of fisticuffs, that he could do just about as he pleased with him. The affray, however, was soon brought to an unexpected end, by a gentleman who happened to witness it. Seizing Oscar by the collar of his jacket, he exclaimed:

"Here, here, sir! what are you doing to that little fellow? Don't you know enough, you great lubber, to take a boy of your own size, if you want to fight? Now run, my little man, and get out of his way,"

continued the stranger, turning to Whistler, and still holding Oscar by the collar.

[Ill.u.s.tration: The a.s.sault.]

Whistler hesitated for a moment between the contending impulses of obedience and manliness; and then, drawing himself up to his full stature, he said, with a respectful but decided air:

"No, sir, I have n't injured him, and I won't run away from him."

"Well said, well said--you are a brave little fellow," continued the gentleman, somewhat surprised at the turn the affair was taking. "What is your name, sir?"

"William Davenport."

"And what is this boy's name?"

"Oscar," replied Willie, and there he stopped, as if unwilling to expose further the name of his abuser.

"Well you may go now, Oscar," said the gentleman, relinquishing his hold; "but if you lay your hands on William again, I shall complain of you."

The two boys walked off in opposite directions, the gentleman keeping an eye upon Oscar until Whistler was out of his reach.

A little knot of boys was drawn together by the circ.u.mstance just related, among whom was George, Oscar's youngest brother. He witnessed the attack, but knew nothing of its cause. As he went directly home, while Oscar did not, he had an opportunity to report to his mother and Ralph the scene he had just beheld. Ralph now related to his mother the incident of the preceding day, which led to the a.s.sault; for, seeing Oscar's unwillingness to have anything said about it, he had not mentioned the matter to any one at home. Ralph was a generous-hearted boy, and in this case was actuated by a regard for Oscar's feelings, rather than by fear.

Oscar did not come home that night until after dark. As he entered the sitting-room, Alice, who was seated at the piano-forte, broke short off the piece she was playing, and said, looking at him as sternly as she could,

"You great ugly boy!"

"Why, what's the matter now?" inquired Oscar, who hardly knew whether this rough salutation was designed to be in fun or in earnest; "don't I look as well as usual?"

"You looked well beating little Willie Davenport, don't you think you did?" continued his sister, with the same stern look. "I 'm perfectly ashamed of you--I declare, I did n't know you could do such a mean thing as that."

"I don't care," replied Oscar, "I 'll lick him again, if he does n't mind his own business."

As Oscar did not know that George witnessed the a.s.sault, he was at a loss to know how Alice heard of it. She refused to tell him, and he finally concluded that Whistler or his mother must have called there, to enter a complaint against him. Pretty soon Mrs. Preston entered the room, and sat down, to await the arrival of Oscar's father to tea. She at once introduced the topic which was uppermost in her mind, by the inquiry:

"Oscar, what is the trouble between you and Willie Davenport?"

"Why," replied Oscar, "he 's been telling stories about me."

"Do you mean false stories?"

"Yes--no--not exactly false, but it was n't true, neither."

"It must have been a singular story, to have been either false nor true. And as it appears there was but one story, I should like to know what it was."

"He told Ralph I had to stand up and look at a blackboard an hour."

"Was that false?"

"Yes," said Oscar, for in replying to his mother, of late, he had usually omitted the "ma'am" (madam) which no well-bred boy will fail to place after the yes or no addressed to a mother; "yes, it was a lie, for I need n't have stood there five minutes, if I had n't wanted to."

"Did you stand before the blackboard because you wanted to, or was it intended as a punishment for not attending to your lesson!"

"Why, I suppose it was meant for a punishment, but the master told me I might go to my seat, whenever I wanted to study."

"Then," said Mrs. Preston, "after all your quibbling, I don't see that Willie told any falsehood. And, in fact, I don't believe he had any idea of injuring you, when he told Ralph of the affair. He only spoke of it as a little matter of news. But even if he had told a lie about you, or had related the occurrence out of ill-will towards you, would that be any excuse for your conduct, in beating him as you did this afternoon! Do you remember the subject of your last Sabbath-school lesson?"

Oscar could not recall it, and shook his head in the negative.

"I have not forgotten it," continued his mother; "it was on forgiving our enemies, and it is a lesson that you very much need to learn. 'If ye forgive not men their trespa.s.ses, neither will your Father forgive your trespa.s.ses,'--that was one of the verses of the lesson. It is n.o.ble to forgive, but it is mean to retaliate. You must learn to conquer your resentful spirit, or you will be in trouble all the time.

I shall report this matter to your father when he comes. I suppose you remember what he promised you, when you had your fight with Sam Oliver?"

Oscar remembered it very distinctly. On that occasion, his father reprimanded him with much severity, and a.s.sured him that any repet.i.tion of the fault would not go unpunished.

Mr. Preston soon came in, and as the family sat at the tea-table, he was informed of Oscar's misconduct. After scolding the culprit with much sharpness, for his attack upon Willie, he concluded by ordering him immediately to bed. Although it yet lacked two hours of his usual bed-time, Oscar did not consider his punishment very severe, but retired to his chamber, feeling delighted that he had got off so much easier than he antic.i.p.ated. Indeed, so little did he think of his father's command, that he felt in no hurry to obey it. Instead of going to bed, he sat awhile at the window, listening to the music of a flute which some one in the neighborhood was playing upon. Presently Ralph and George, who slept in the same chamber with him, came up to keep him company. They amused themselves together for some time, and Oscar quite forgot that he had been sent to bed, until the door suddenly opened, and his father, whose attention had been attracted by the noise, stood before him.

"Did n't I tell you to go to bed an hour ago, Oscar?" he inquired.

"Yes, sir."

"Why have n't you obeyed me, then?"