Watch Yourself Go By Part 46

This seemed to strengthen the bird-man; he drew in a few deep breaths, gazing heavenward, then across the river at Krepp's k.n.o.b, then below him at the river. Alfred was all a-tremble. He remembered that Node said: "You must mark your course, your starting point, your landing place."

Alfred wondered in his mind whether Node would cross to Krepp's or only cross Dunlap's Creek over Duck Leonard's mill.

Node flapped his wings again. This time, with each flap of the wings, Alfred gave the rear extension a gentle lift. Node would rise four or five inches with each lift. He did nor realize that Alfred was lending help to his efforts. After a more forcible lift of the tail than any Alfred had yet given it, Node, turning his head, with a triumphant look, shouted: "When I say 'Three,' I'm going, but don't you do anything, jest let me handle her. Let go the rear extension."

[Ill.u.s.tration: Node's Flight]

Pointing the wings heavenward, gazing up as if in prayer, raising himself on his tip-toes, straining every nerve, in a voice tremulous with excitement, he began: "One," stretching higher, he shouted: "Two,"

rising on his tip-toes, he reached the edge of the barn, as he fairly yelled: "Three."

The wings came down beautifully, but they did not rise again. As Node stepped off the edge of the barn he descended instead of ascending, the rear extension got sort of tangled on the comb of the roof, Node and the machine dangled in the air momentarily.

As Alfred dropped through the opening in the roof, he heard Node claw a time or two at the weather-boarding; something seemed to let go, to rip, then, there was a dull sound as of a bag of sand falling from a height to the earth.

There was the sound of footsteps coming from several directions. Alfred heard all this while he was moving faster than he had ever moved before.

Node did not beat him to the earth by a great margin. As Alfred flew out of the door of the barn, he saw Jack Rathmell doubled over the fence laughing as only Jack could laugh.

Ere Node was disentangled from the wrecked airship, ere they escorted him to "Had"--he declined to be carried--Alfred was safely hidden away in Alex Smith's hay mow. Buried under the hay he kept peering through a convenient crack which gave him a view of the territory between his home and Node's residence. Somehow he figured the whole thing would be blamed on him.

First, Lin was seen with her ap.r.o.n around her head going toward Node's house. It was not long until she returned, walking hurriedly. She reappeared in a moment, bearing in her hands something that appeared to be bandages. Then Alfred's father came. In a moment or two he was seen going toward Beckley's house. Then, a little later, the father and two or three others, including Cousin Charley, reappeared, walking toward the old barn. Cousin Charley was evidently describing the attempted flight as he pointed to the roof of the barn. All looked up, then as Charley marked a spot on the manure pile with his foot, all looked down.

The father gathered up a part of the flying machine and carried it home.

Standing at the gate he gave a shrill whistle, one that he had used to attract Alfred since he was a little boy. Alfred made no response.

Alfred did not know how badly Node was injured. He felt very sorry for him, he really liked the man. As miserable as he felt, as sorry as he was, the funny side of the affair crept into his mind and, as usual, he relieved himself with a good hearty laugh.

Alfred's laugh was cut short by a voice calling from below: "Who's that?

Hey? Who's that?"

Alfred recognized Alex Smith's voice. He remained motionless for a moment.

The voice, part of the way up the ladder leading to the hay mow, called again, this time commandingly: "Who's up in the hay mow? Come down! Come down! Or I'll bring you down."

Alfred remained motionless.

"You won't come down, won't you? Well, you will when I come back." And the voice told Alfred it's owner was leaving the place.

Alfred, climbing down the ladder, left the stable just as the gate slammed announcing Mr. Smith's coming. He stood motionless as Mr. Smith approached. When the elder man recognized the boy he was somewhat surprised.

"Was that you in the haymow?"

"Yes, sir," answered Alfred.

"Why didn't you answer when I called to you?"

Alfred related the whole story. Alex Smith accompanied Alfred home. The story of Node Beckley's flying machine was gone over. The father was mollified.

Lin commented thusly: "One story is good till another's told. I jes k.u.m from Beckley's; Node's not hurt much, jes jarred. He sed he went on the barn to test his apperatus; he wern't ready to fly. An' I don't reckun he wus an' what's more, he never will be. He wus jes straitnin' out the perpellers. He ses: 'Alfurd's been so alfired crazy to hev me fly he jes couldn't wait till I got my apperatus finished. While I wus standin'

near the aidge uf the roof, my perpellers hangin' down, Alfurd snook up ahind me an' gin me a push, and afore I could raise my perpellers I wus on the groun'. If I hed knowed hit I could've saved myself an' flew off an' lit in the field.'"

Alfred asked Lin who made this statement. She replied Mrs. Beckley had told it to her.

"If Node told that story I am going over to contradict it, if his back's broken."

"Nevur mind, nevur mind," consoled Lin, "I jes tole 'Had' thet Node wus a bird, an' like all birds, he knowed which way to fly, kase I heard he headed straight fur the manure pile."

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Laugh, and the world laughs with you; Weep, and you weep alone; For this brave old earth must borrow its mirth, It has trouble enough of its own.

The world does not require the same attainments from all; it is well it is so ordered. Some persons are well taught, some are ill taught, some are not taught at all. Some have naturally good dispositions and absorb learning readily. Some are deficient in mechanical ingenuity and yet can a.n.a.lyze difficult mental problems.

It is no crime to fail in any pursuit or vocation, if failure is not due to idleness or deliberate preference of evil to good. There comes a time in the life of every reasoning person that they must take themselves for better or for worse, that they must take themselves more seriously.

Captain Abrams had unintentionally contributed to Alfred's discontent.

He had remarked that to putty up holes, paint a board or smear a hurricane deck was not much of a trade or calling, but to be an artist like Alfred's father was a profession that would bring success.

Alfred could not drive a nail straight; he could not saw a board straight; he was such an awkward writer, the school teacher made fun of his copy book. She advised Alfred that she did this hoping that by publicly reprimanding him he would learn to write a more legible hand.

"You excel in spelling, reading, geography and other studies; you should be ashamed of your writing."

The grandfather, the father, the teacher, all liked Alfred. None intended to injure his feelings, yet the taunts, the censure, just and unjust, sunk into Alfred's soul, and, he advised Captain Abrams it was only the duty he owed his father that kept him there a day.

Alfred was low in mind. He sought his father and endeavored to reason with him, but was dismissed with the argument: "You don't want to learn anything useful; if it was something connected with a show, you'd master it mighty quick."

"But father, I have no skill or sleight to work with tools."

The father interrupted with a peremptory: "Do as I did--learn."

"I can't learn," pleaded the boy, "try as I may, I'm not cut out for a mechanic. If I could work like you it would be a pleasure to me to keep at it. I'm out of all heart with my work."

The father evidently felt for the boy as he spoke in a more kindly tone: "You are not lazy; the things that you can do, you do well. Now you painted around that hull quicker than any man at work on the boat. Be a little more patient, take more pains and you'll make a good workman. I will pay you wages, try to make something useful out of yourself. You'll never amount to a hill of beans if you follow up your show notions,"

pleaded the father.

"Pap, I'm satisfied with what you give, it ain't that. I don't like the work. Of course, I painted the hull of the boat quickly but that's all I can do and Captain Abrams says there's nothing in puttying up nail holes and painting hulls; anybody can learn that in six months."

The father became cross again, and, in a threatening tone, said: "I am your father and it is my duty to do my best for you; I firmly believe I am fulfilling my duty as a parent in ordering you to give up all other notions as to the future and get down to business and learn this trade.

Now make up your mind; go at your work with the feeling that you are determined to succeed. If you go at your work in a half-hearted way you are certain to fail."

"Well, that's the way I feel about this work; I can't learn it, I don't want to. There's a dozen other things I'd rather do and I can make more money out of them."

This stubborn talk exasperated the father, and pointing his finger at the boy to emphasize his words, he said: "First, it was circus, then it was minstrels. You tried the newspaper business, you were not satisfied."

"Why, you made me quit newspaper work," interrupted Alfred.

"Don't interrupt me again," cautioned the father, "then it was that infernal panorama. That panorama was the worst of all, it gave you the habit of roving; you've never been satisfied a day since you went off with that panorama."