The Light in the Clearing Part 36

apple-blossoms? My hired men carry their milk away to the hollow trees and churn it into honey. There's towers and towers of it in the land o'

Nowhere. If it wasn't for Nowhere your country would be as dark as a pocket and as dry as dust--sure it would. Somewhere must be next to Nowhere--or it wouldn't be anywhere, I'm thinkin'. All the light and rain and beauty o' the world come out o' Nowhere--don't they? We have the widest ocean up here with wonderful ships. I call it G.o.d's ferry. Ye see, Nowhere is not to be looked down upon just because ye don't find it in Mary's geography. There's lots o' things ye don't know, man. I'm one o' them. What do ye think o' me?'

"'Sure, I like ye,' says I.

"'Lucky man!' says he. 'Everybody must learn to like me an' play with me as the children do. I can get along with the little folks, but it's hard to teach men how to play with me--G.o.d pity them! They forget how to believe. I am the guide to paradise and unless ye become as a little child I can not lead ye.'

"He ran to the edge o' the tree roof and took hold o' the end of a long spider's rope hangin' down in the air. In a jiffy he swung clear o' the tree and climbed, hand over hand, until he had gone awa-a-a-a-y out o'

sight in the sky."

"Couldn't anybody do that?" said little John.

"I didn't say they could--did I? ye unbeliever!" said the schoolmaster as he rose and led us in to the supper table. "I said n.o.body did it."

We got him to tell this little tale over and over again in the days that followed, and many times since then that impersonal and mysterious guide of the schoolmaster's fancy has led me to paradise.

After supper he got out his boxing-gloves and gave me a lesson in the art of self-defense, in which, I was soon to learn, he was highly accomplished, for we had a few rounds together every day after that. He keenly enjoyed this form of exercise and I soon began to. My capacity for taking punishment without flinching grew apace and before long I got the knack of countering and that pleased him more even than my work in school, I have sometimes thought.

"G.o.d bless ye, boy!" he exclaimed one day after I had landed heavily on his cheek, "ye've a nice way o' sneakin' in with yer right. I've a notion ye may find it useful some day."

I wondered a little why he should say that, and while I was wondering he felled me with a stinging blow on my nose.

"Ah, my lad--there's the best thing I have seen ye do--get up an' come back with no mad in ye," he said as he gave me his hand.

One day the schoolmaster called the older boys to the front seats in his room and I among them.

"Now, boys, I'm going to ask ye what ye want to do in the world," he said. "Don't be afraid to tell me what ye may never have told before and I'll do what I can to help ye."

He asked each one to make confession and a most remarkable exhibit of young ambition was the result. I remember that most of us wanted to be statesmen--a fact due probably to the shining example of Silas Wright.

Then he said that on a certain evening he would try "to show us the way over the mountains."

For some months I had been studying a book just published, ent.i.tled, _Stenographic Sound-Hand_ and had learned its alphabet and practised the use of it. That evening I took down the remarks of Mr. Hacket in sound-hand.

The academy chapel was crowded with the older boys and girls and the town folk. The master never clipped his words in school as he was wont to do when talking familiarly with the children.

"Since the leaves fell our little village has occupied the center of the stage before an audience of millions in the great theater of congress.

Our leading citizen--the chief actor--has been crowned with immortal fame. We who watched the play were thrilled by the query: Will Uncle Sam yield to temptation or cling to honor? He has chosen the latter course and we may still hear the applause in distant galleries beyond the sea.

He has decided that the public revenues must be paid in honest money.

"My friend and cla.s.smate, George Bancroft, the historian, has written this letter to me out of a full heart:

"'Your fellow townsman, Silas Wright, is now the largest figure in Washington. We were all worried by the resolution of Henry Clay until it began to crumble under the irresistible attack of Mr.

Wright. On the 16th he submitted a report upon it which for lucid and accurate statements presented in the most unpretending manner, won universal admiration and will be remembered alike for its intrinsic excellence and for having achieved one of the most memorable victories ever gained in the United States Senate. After a long debate Clay himself, compelled by the irresistible force of argument in the report of Mr. Wright, was obliged to retire from his position, his resolution having been rejected by a vote of 44 to 1.'"

With what pride and joy I heard of this great thing that my friend had accomplished! The schoolmaster went on:

"It is a very good and proper thing, my boys, that you should be inspired by the example of the great man, whose home is here among us and whose beloved face is as familiar as my own, to try your talents in the service of the state. There are certain things that I would have you remember.

"_First_--Know your subject-inside and outside and round about and from beginning to end.

"_Second_--Know the opinions of wise men and your own regarding it.

"_Third_--Be modest in the use of your own opinions and above all be honest.

"_Fourth_--Remember that it is your subject and not yourself that is of prime importance. You will be tempted to think that you are the great part of the business. My young friends, it will not be true. It can not be true. It is not _you_ but _the thing you stand for_ that is important.

"_Fifth_--The good of all the people must be the thing you stand for--the United States of America.

"Now I wish you to observe how our great fellow townsman keeps his subject to the fore and himself in the background.

"It was in 1834 that he addressed the Senate regarding the deposits of public money. He rose to voice the wishes of the people of this state.

If he had seemed to be expressing his own opinions he would have missed his great point. Now mark how he cast himself aside when he began:

"'I must not be understood as, for one moment, entertaining the vain impression that opinions and views p.r.o.nounced by me, here or elsewhere, will acquire any importance because they are my opinions and views. I know well, sir, that my name carries not with it authority anywhere, but I know, also, that so far as I may entertain and shall express opinions which are, or which shall be found, in accord with the enlightened public opinion of this country, so far they will be sustained and no further.'

"Then by overwhelming proof he set forth the opinion of our people on the subject in hand. Studiously the Senator has hidden himself in his task and avoided in every possible way attracting attention from his purposes to his personality.

"Invitations to accept public dinners as a compliment to himself have received from him this kind of reply:

"'A proper attention to the duties, on the discharge of which you so kindly desire to compliment me requires that I should decline your invitation.'"

All this was new to me, although much more was said touching his love for simple folk regarding which I needed no instruction. Altogether, it helped me to feel the deep foundations on which my friend, the Senator, had been building in his public life.

Going out with the crowd that evening, I met Sally and Mr. and Mrs.

Dunkelberg. The latter did not speak to me and when I asked Sally if I could walk home with her she answered curtly, "No, thank you."

In following the schoolmaster I have got a bit ahead of my history. Soon after the opening of the new year--ten days or so later it may have been--I had begun to feel myself encompa.s.sed by a new and subtle force.

It was a thing as intangible as heat but as real as fire and more terrible, it seemed to me. I felt it first in the att.i.tude of my play fellows. They denied me the confidence and intimacy which I had enjoyed before. They whispered together in my presence. In all this I had not failed to observe that Henry Wills had taken a leading part. The invisible, inaudible, mysterious thing wrought a great change in me. It followed me through the day and lay down with me at night. I wondered what I had done. I carefully surveyed my clothes. They looked all right to me. My character was certainly no worse than it had been. How it preyed upon my peace and rest and happiness--that mysterious hidden thing!

One day Uncle Peabody came down to see me and I walked through the village with him. We met Mr. Dunkelberg, who merely nodded and hurried along. Mr. Bridges, the merchant, did not greet him warmly and chat with him as he had been wont to do. I saw that The Thing--as I had come to think of it--was following him also. How it darkened his face! Even now I can feel the aching of the deep, bloodless wounds of that day. I could bear it better alone. We were trying to hide our pain from each other when we said good-by. How quickly my uncle turned away and walked toward the sheds! He came rarely to the village of Canton after that.

I was going home at noon one day and while pa.s.sing a crowd of boys I was shoved rudely into the fence. Turning, I saw Henry Wills and my fist flashed to his face. He fell backward and rising called me a thief and the son of a thief. He had not finished the words when I was upon him.

The others formed a ring around us and we began a savage battle. One of Wills' friends tried to trip me. In the midst of it I saw the schoolmaster just outside the ring. He seized a boy by the collar.

"There'll be no more interference," said he. "It's goin' to be a fair fight."

I had felt another unfriendly foot but had not seen its owner. We fought up and down, with lips and noses bleeding. At last the time had come when I was quicker and stronger than he. Soon Henry Wills lay on the ground before me with no disposition to go on with the fight. I helped him up and he turned away from me. Some of the boys began to jeer him.

"He's a gentleman compared with the rest o' you," I said. "He had courage enough to say what he thought. There's not another one o' you would dare do it--not a one o' you."

Then said the schoolmaster:

"If there's any more o' you boys that has any such opinion o' Bart Baynes let him be man enough to step up an' say it now. If he don't he ought to be man enough to change his mind on the spot."

A number of the boys and certain of the townsfolk who had gathered about us clapped their hands. For a long time thereafter I wondered why Henry had called me a thief. I concluded that it was because "thief" was the meanest word he could think of in his anger. However that might be, The Thing forsook me. I felt no more its cold, mysterious shadow between me and my school fellows. It had stepped out of my path into that of Henry Wills. His popularity waned and a lucky circ.u.mstance it was for him.

From that day he began to take to his books and to improve his standing in the school.

I observed that he did not go about with Sally as he had done. I had had no word with her since the night of Mr. Hacket's lecture save the briefest greeting as we pa.s.sed each other in the street. Those fine winter days I used to see her riding a chestnut pony with a long silver mane that flowed back to her yellow curls in his lope. I loved the look of her as she went by me in the saddle and a longing came into my heart that she should think well of me. I made an odd resolve. It was this: I would make it impossible for her to think ill of me.