Oscar Part 8

[Ill.u.s.tration: Tiger's Countenance.]

Tiger had grown very rapidly, and was now about twice as large as he was when Alfred promised Oscar one of his litter of pups. He was a handsome fellow, especially about the head, as you may see by his portrait. At times, he looked as old and grave as his mother; but for all that, he was a great rogue, and there was very little dignity or soberness about him. He was brim-full of fun, and would play with anybody or anything that would allow him to take that liberty. He would amuse himself for hours with an old shoe or rag that he had found in the street, and it seemed as if he never would get tired of shaking, and tearing, and biting it. This disposition sometimes led him into mischief, in the house; but he was always so happy, so good-natured and so affectionate, that it was difficult to blame him very hard for his misconduct. If Oscar's grandmother happened to drop her ball of yarn, when Tige was about, he would seize it in an instant, and she would have to work hard to get it away from him. She kept her work in a bag, which she usually hung upon the back of a chair; but one day, the little rogue pulled the bag down upon the floor, and had its various contents scattered all about the room, before the old lady noticed what he was doing.

These mischievous pranks were very amusing to Oscar, and he set all the more by Tiger, on account of this trait in his character. The other members of the family, too, seemed to enjoy the sport he made; and it was easy to see that even old Mrs. Lee, though she pretended to be angry with the dog for his mischievousness, was in reality pleased with the attentions he bestowed upon her and her knitting-work.

Oscar's grandmother usually retired to her chamber, soon after dinner, to take a short nap. One noon, after she had been scolding, with a.s.sumed gravity, about the dog's mischievousness, Oscar thought he would play a joke upon the old lady; so, on rising from the dinner-table, he carried Tiger up to her bed-room, and shut him in. He wanted to conceal himself somewhere, and witness the surprise of his grandmother, when she should open the door, and the dog should spring upon her; but it was time to go to school, and he could not wait.

It so happened that Mrs. Lee did not take her nap so early as usual that day. When she did go to her chamber, Tiger, impatient of his long confinement, sprang out so quickly, that she did not observe him. But such a scene as met her gaze on entering the chamber! The first thing that caught her eye, was her best black bonnet lying upon the floor, all crumpled up and torn into shreds, looking as though it had been used for a football by a parcel of boys. She entered the room, and found a dress upon the floor, with numerous marks of rough handling upon it; while towels and other articles were scattered about in confusion. The cloth upon the dressing-table had been pulled off, and the articles that were kept upon it were lying upon the floor, including a handsome vase, which, in the fall, had been shattered to pieces. There was in the chamber a stuffed easy-chair, the covering of which was of worsted-work, wrought by Mrs. Preston when she was a young girl. This chair, which was highly valued as a relic of the past, was also badly injured. A part of the needle-work, which had cost so many hours of patient toil, was torn in every direction, and some of the hair, with which the cushion was stuffed, was pulled out, and scattered about the floor.

As soon as Mrs. Lee had fully comprehended the extent of the mischief, she went to the stair-way, and called her daughter. A glance satisfied Mrs. Preston that Tiger must have been there; and she was confirmed in this belief by Bridget, who remembered that the dog came down into the kitchen, just after Mrs. Lee went up. But they could not tell how the little rogue got shut into the room. They concluded, however, that some of the children did it by accident, or that the dog slipped in unperceived when Mrs. Lee came out from the chamber before dinner.

Oscar did not go directly home from school, but as soon as he entered the house, he learned what Tiger had done, from the other children. He felt sorry that what he intended as a harmless joke, should end in so serious a matter; but he determined that no one should know he had a hand in it, if he could prevent it. He regretted the destruction of property, but this feeling did not cause him so much uneasiness as his fear of losing his dog in consequence of this bad afternoon's work.

His mother, as soon as she saw him, inquired if he had been to his grandmother's chamber that noon. He replied that he had not. She inquired if he let Tiger into it, and he answered in the negative. His mother questioned him still further, but he denied all knowledge of the matter.

It was not very hard work for Oscar to tell a lie, now, for practice makes easy. He could do it, too, in such a plausible and seemingly innocent way, that it was difficult to believe he was deceiving you.

His falsehoods, in this instance, were readily believed; and as all the other children denied having any knowledge of the affair, it was the general conclusion that Tiger must have obtained admittance to the chamber accidentally and unperceived.

When Mr. Preston came home to tea, and saw what the dog had done, he was very angry with poor Tiger, and told Oscar he must sell him or give him away, for he would not have such a mischievous animal about the house another day. A day or two after, Mrs. Preston replaced the articles belonging to her mother that had been injured, and the excitement about the dog soon died away. Oscar did not try to get rid of his pet; but he was careful not to let him stay in the house much of the time especially when his father was at home.

"Oscar," said his grandmother a day or two after as he came into the kitchen with Tiger, "I thought your father told you he would n't have that dog around here any more."

"O, he did n't mean so," replied Oscar; "he was mad when he said that, but he 's got over it now. Besides, I don't let Tige stay in the house much."

"A good dale ye cares for what yer father says," remarked Bridget, who was never backward about putting in a word, when Oscar's delinquencies were the subject of conversation.

"You shut up, Bridget,--n.o.body spoke to you," replied Oscar.

"Shet up, did ye say? Faith, if ye don't git shet up yerself where ye won't git out in a hurry, afore ye 're many years older, it 'll be because ye don't git yer desarts. Ye 're a bad b'y, that ye are, an'--"

"There, there, Biddy," interrupted Mrs. Lee, "I would n't say anything more--it only aggravates him, and does no good. But, Oscar," she added, "I 'm sorry you don't pay more attention to what your father says. It's a bad habit to get into. I knew a disobedient boy, once, who came to the gallows; and I 've known several others who made very bad men."

"But you don't call me disobedient, do you, grandma'am?" inquired Oscar.

"I don't know what else to call it," she replied, "if your father tells you to do a thing, and you take no notice of it."

"But father does n't want me to give Tige away--I don't believe he 's thought of it again since that night."

"Then, if I were you," replied his grandmother, "I would ask his consent to keep the dog. If he did n't mean what he said, that night, you will be safe enough in asking him."

But this was a kind of reasoning that Oscar could not appreciate. If he could carry his point just as well without his father's formal consent, he thought it was useless to ask any such favor. As long as he could keep his dog, it was all the same to him whether his father withdrew his command, or silently acquiesced in his disobedience of it.

But grandmother Lee's visit was drawing to a close, and early one bright, cool morning, in the latter part of December, the coach called, to take her to the railroad depot; and after a few kisses, and words of affectionate advice, and lingering good-byes, she departed on her homeward journey. Of those she left behind, next to her own daughter, the saddest of the group was little Ella, who, for many days, missed the pleasant face of her good old grandmother.

CHAPTER IX.

WINTER SPORTS.

It was now mid-winter, and a few inches of snow lay upon the frozen ground, sufficient to make pretty fair sleighing for a few days, and to afford good coasting for the boys on the hill-sides. The favorite place for this amus.e.m.e.nt, among the boys in Oscar's neighborhood, was the Common. Here they always found good, long, smooth coasting-places, when there was any snow on the ground; and there was no danger of tripping up foot pa.s.sengers, or getting under the heels of the horses, or being tapped on the shoulder by a policeman, which often happened to boys who coasted down the steep streets of the city,--a practice, by the way, prohibited by a city law.

Oscar had a handsome new sled, which was a new year's present from his father. It was long and narrow, the two steel-shod runners projecting forward far beyond the top or seat, and ending in sharp points. It was painted light blue, and varnished. Upon the sides, in gilt letters, was its name--CLIPPER; and upon its top it bore the initial of Oscar's name, with an ornamental device. It had what a sailor would call a decidedly rakish look, and was really a fast as well as a stylish "team," to use the term by which Oscar usually spoke of it. It even eclipsed George's small but elegant sled, which, the winter previous, had been regarded as the _ne plus ultra_ of sled architecture.

Ralph's sled, by the side of these, presented a very cheap and antiquated appearance, and it was seldom that he took it with him to the Common. He often borrowed Oscar's, however, when it was not in use for his elder brother, with all his faults, was not selfish boy, but was willing to lend his property to others, when he was not using it himself. One pleasant Wednesday afternoon, a portion of the week always devoted to recreation by the Boston school children, Ralph obtained leave to take the "Clipper" with him to the Common. George also went with him with his sled. The coasting is very good, and some hundreds of boys are enjoying it. Long lines of sleds, freighted with from one to three or four juveniles, are dashing down in various directions from the Beacon Street mall; and an odd collection of juveniles and sleds it is, too. There comes a chubby, red-faced lad, with his exact counterpart, on a smaller scale, clinging on behind him with one hand, and swinging his cap with the other. Their sled is called the "Post-Boy," and it seems to "carry the males" very expeditiously. Close at their heels is a pale, poetic youth, lightly skimming over the inclined plane upon a delicate craft that looks like himself, and which he calls the "Mystery." Here comes a rude, unpainted sled, with two rough but merry youngsters lying p.r.o.ne upon it, one over the other, and their heels working up and down in the air in a most lively manner. Anon goes by an aristocratic-looking craft, bearing upon it a sleek and well-dressed boy, whose appearance speaks of wealth, indulgence, and ease. His sled is appropriately named the "Pet;" but in gliding down the icy track it strikes a tree, and its pampered owner is sent sprawling upon his back, in a very undignified way, while his "Pet" gives him the slip and soon finds the bottom of the hill. Poor fellow! we wonder if this is an omen of what is to befall him in sliding down the hill of life. And here comes the "Clipper" itself, with our Ralph seated proudly upon it, and apparently enjoying the fleet and beautiful sled as much as though it were really his own. And there, too, comes George, with his pretty "Snow Flake;"

and close behind him are the "Tempest," and the "Yankee Doodle," and the "Screamer," and the "Snow ball," and the "Nelly," and the "Racer,"

and a host of other craft, of every imaginable appearance, and strided by all sorts of boys.

Ralph and George spent an hour or two upon the Common. Nothing occurred to mar their pleasure till just before they started for home, when Ralph met with an adventure that sadly ruffled his temper. He was descending the hill upon his sled, when another craft, having two boys upon it larger than himself, managed to run into him. The "Clipper"

being lightly loaded, the other sled descended with greater impetus; and the force of the collision, together with a vigorous kick from the stout boots of one of the boys, overturned Ralph upon the steepest part of the hill. He quickly picked himself up, and, forgetful of self, his first care was to see whether Oscar's sled had sustained any damage.

When he beheld the marks of the rough encounter, in the form of sundry ugly scratches upon the polished sides of the "Clipper," the tears came in his eyes; and it was some time before he noticed that he himself bore upon his hands and knees several unmistakable tokens of the collision.

Ralph knew very well that the collision was not accidental. The kick of the boy who guided the sled, and the hearty laugh of both its occupants, when Ralph was overturned, satisfied him that he had been run down purposely. He did not know the names of the boys, having only met them occasionally on the Common. They soon came along again, on their way up the hill, and Ralph asked the owner of the sled why he run him down.

"Because you got in our way," replied the boy.

"No, I did n't," said Ralph; "there was room enough for you to go by, but you steered out of your course, and gave my sled a kick, too."

"Don't you tell me I lie, you little snipper-snapper," answered the boy "or I 'll put you in my pocket, and carry you off."

"See what you did," continued Ralph, pointing to the scratches on the "Clipper;" "I should n't care anything about it, but the sled is n't mine. I borrowed it of my brother, and it had n't a scratch on it when I took it."

"Pooh," said the other boy, "that does n't hurt it any. I 'll be bound it will be scratched worse than that, before the winter 's over. If you get in my way with it again, I shall serve it worse than I did this time."

The boys pa.s.sed on their way, and Ralph and George, whose "fun" had been thus suddenly and unjustly spoiled by their insolent and domineering companions, concluded to return home. Poor Ralph dreaded to meet Oscar; but yet he hunted him up, as soon as he got home, and told him what had befallen the beautiful sled. Oscar was very angry when he heard the story, but he generously acquitted his brother of all blame in the matter, and declared that he would pay back the boy who had thus taken advantage of his weakness. He knew the offender, from Ralph's description, and from the name of his sled, which was the "Corsair." He even proposed to go directly to the Common, and settle the account at once; but Ralph, in whose heart revenge held a very small place, persuaded him out of the notion.

But Oscar, unlike Ralph, was not the boy to forget or forgive an injury. A day or two after the occurrence just related, while coasting on the Common, he fell in with the boy who run into his brother.

Keeping his eye upon him until he could catch him a little aside from the other boys, when the favorable moment came, he suddenly dealt him a severe blow, which nearly knocked him over, accompanying it with the remark:

"There, take that for running down my little brother, when he was coasting with my sled, the other day."

The other boy, without saying a word, sprang at Oscar, and, for a moment or two, blows and kicks were freely exchanged. But though they were about of a size, it was evident that Oscar was the stronger or most resolute of the two, and his antagonist soon gave up the contest, but not until he had been pretty roughly handled. Other boys soon came flocking around, to whom Oscar explained the cause of the a.s.sault; but his antagonist denied all knowledge of the affair for which Oscar had attacked him. An angry war of words ensued, but the excitement finally subsided without any further resort to blows, and Oscar returned home, well pleased with his adventure.

One of Oscar's favorite winter amus.e.m.e.nts was skating. Early in winter, as soon as the little pond on the Common was frozen over, he might be seen gliding over the smooth ice; but later in the season, when there was good skating on "Back Bay," he preferred that locality, because of its greater extent. Tiger usually accompanied him in his skating excursions, and seemed to enjoy the sport as much as his master did. It was amusing to see him try to make a short turn, in running upon the ice. He would slide some distance before he could change his course. Oscar would often plague him, when he was in full chase after his master, by suddenly turning upon his skates, and taking a contrary direction, leaving Tiger to get back as he could.

But an event happened, one day, that almost wholly cured Tiger of his fondness for this kind of sport. He was gaily tripping over the ice, by the side of his young master, when the latter suddenly turned about, and Tiger, in his haste to follow him, slid directly into an air-hole.

This was probably the first time he had enjoyed so extensive a cold bath; and as he was not a water-dog, it is not surprising that he was terribly frightened. His piteous cries brought Oscar to his relief, who could not help laughing at the sorry plight in which he found his half-drowned canine friend. He was floundering and paddling about in the water, now lifting himself almost out, upon the edge of the ice, and now slipping off again, and plumping over-head in the uncomfortable element; his intelligent countenance, in the meantime, wearing the impress of despair. But Oscar soon helped him from his disagreeable position. Finding himself on his legs again, he did not resume his sport; but, shivering with cold, and dripping with water, almost at the freezing point, and with his head hanging downward, and his tail drooping between his legs, he started towards home--a wiser and a sadder dog.

When Oscar got home, he found the family some what alarmed for his own safety. Tiger had arrived some time before, and as it was evident that he had been overboard, and as he was known to have gone off with his master, Mrs. Preston felt some anxiety, not knowing but that both Oscar and the dog had broken through the ice. But his arrival dispelled all fears, and his account of Tiger's misfortune served to amuse the children for the rest of the day. As for Tiger himself, he seemed heartily ashamed of the part he had played, and could hardly be persuaded to leave the chimney-corner for a moment, or even to look up, when the children inquired for his health.

"I don't see what good air-holes do. I wonder if anybody knows what they are for," exclaimed Ralph, as the children and their mother were seated around the sitting-room table in the evening.

"They are traps set to catch skaters, I suppose," said Oscar.

"And dogs," added Ella.

"But don't you know what they are for, Alice?" continued Ralph.

"Yes," replied Alice, who had studied natural philosophy at school, "they are the breathing holes of the fishes. Fishes can't live without air, any better than we can; and a pond or river frozen over solid, without any air-holes, would be as bad for them as a room from which all fresh air was shut out would be to us. You can sometimes catch fish very easily by cutting a hole in the ice, for if they feel the need of air, they will rush right up to the opening."