Winning His Way

  CHAPTER III.

  MERRY TIMES.

  When the long northeast storms set in, and the misty clouds hung overthe valley, and went hurrying away to the west, brushing the tops of thetrees; when the rain, hour after hour, and day after day, fell aslantupon the roof of the little old house; when the wind swept around theeaves, and dashed in wild gusts against the windows, and moaned andwailed in the forests,--then it was that Paul sometimes felt his spiritsdroop, for the circumstances of life were all against him. He was poor.His dear, kind mother was sick. She had worked day and night to keepthat terrible wolf from the door, which is always prowling around thehouses of poor people. But the wolf had come, and was looking in at thewindows. There was a debt due Mr. Funk for rice, sugar, biscuit, tea,and other things which Doctor Arnica said his mother must have. Therewas the doctor's bill. The flour-barrel was getting low, and themeal-bag was almost empty. Paul saw the wolf every night as he lay inhis bed, and he wished he could kill it.

  When his mother was taken sick, he left school and became her nurse. Itwas hard for him to lay down his books, for he loved them, but it waspleasant to wait upon her. The neighbors were kind. Azalia Adams oftencame tripping in with something nice,--a tumbler of jelly, or a plate oftoast, which her mother had prepared; and she had such cheerful words,and spoke so pleasantly, and moved round the room so softly, puttingeverything in order, that the room was lighter, even on the darkestdays, for her presence.

  When, after weeks of confinement to her bed, Paul's mother was strongenough to sit in her easy-chair, Paul went out to fight the wolf. Heworked for Mr. Middlekauf, in his cornfield. He helped Mr. Chrome paintwagons. He surveyed land, and ran lines for the farmers, earning alittle here and a little there. As fast as he obtained a dollar, it wentto pay the debts. As the seasons passed away,--spring, summer, andautumn,--Paul could see that the wolf howled less fiercely day by day.He denied himself everything, except plain food. He was tall, stout,hearty, and rugged. The winds gave him health; his hands were hard, buthis heart was tender. When through with his day's work, though his bonesached and his eyes were drowsy, he seldom went to sleep without firststudying awhile, and closing with a chapter from the Bible, for heremembered what his grandfather often said,--that a chapter from theBible was a good thing to sleep on.

  The cool and bracing breezes of November, the nourishing food which Paulobtained, brought the color once more to his mother's cheeks; and whenat length she was able to be about the house, they had a jubilee,--aglad day of thanksgiving,--for, in addition to this blessing of health,Paul had killed the wolf, and the debts were all paid.

  As the winter came on, the subject of employing Mr. Rhythm to teach asinging-school was discussed. Mr. Quaver, a tall, slim man, with a long,red nose, had led the choir for many years. He had a loud voice, andtwisted his words so badly, that his singing was like the blare of atrumpet. On Sundays, after Rev. Mr. Surplice read the hymn, the peoplewere accustomed to hear a loud Hawk! from Mr. Quaver, as he tossed histobacco-quid into a spittoon, and an Ahem! from Miss Gamut. She was theleading first treble, a small lady with a sharp, shrill voice. Then Mr.Fiddleman sounded the key on the bass-viol, do-mi-sol-do, helping thetrebles and tenors climb the stairs of the scale; then he hopped downagain, and rounded off with a thundering swell at the bottom, to letthem know he was safely down, and ready to go ahead. Mr. Quaver led, andthe choir followed like sheep, all in their own way and fashion.

  The people had listened to this style of music till they were tired ofit. They wanted a change, and decided to engage Mr. Rhythm, a nice youngman, to teach a singing-school for the young folks. "We have a hundredboys and girls here in the village, who ought to learn to sing, so thatthey can sit in the singing-seats, and praise God," said Judge Adams.

  But Mr. Quaver opposed the project. "The young folks want a frolic,sir," he said; "yes, sir, a frolic, a high time. Rhythm will be teachingthem newfangled notions. You know, Judge, that I hate flummididdles; Igo for the good old things, sir. The old tunes which have stood the wearand tear of time, and the good old style of singing, sir."

  Mr. Quaver did not say all he thought, for he could see that, if thesinging-school was kept, he would be in danger of losing his position aschorister. But, notwithstanding his opposition, Mr. Rhythm was engagedto teach the school. Paul determined to attend. He loved music.

  "You haven't any coat fit to wear," said his mother. "I have alteredover your grandfather's pants and vest for you, but I cannot alter hiscoat. You will have to stay at home, I guess."

  "I can't do that, mother, for Mr. Rhythm is one of the best teachersthat ever was, and I don't want to miss the chance. I'll wear grandpa'scoat just as it is."

  "The school will laugh at you."

  "Well, let them laugh, I sha'n't stay at home for that. I guess I canstand it," said Paul, resolutely.

  The evening fixed upon for the school to commence arrived. All the youngfolks in the town were there. Those who lived out of the village,--thefarmers' sons and daughters,--came in red, yellow, and green wagons. Thegirls wore close-fitting hoods with pink linings, which they called"kiss-me-if-ye-dares." Their cheeks were all aglow with the excitementof the occasion. When they saw Mr. Rhythm, how pleasant and smiling hewas,--when they heard his voice, so sweet and melodious,--when they sawhow spryly he walked, as if he meant to accomplish what he hadundertaken,--they said to one another, "How different he is from Mr.Quaver!"

  Paul was late on the first evening; for when he put on his grandfather'scoat, his mother planned a long while to see if there was not some wayby which she could make it look better. Once she took the shears and wasgoing to cut off the tail, but Paul stopped her. "I don't want itcurtailed, mother."

  "It makes you look like a little old man, Paul; I wouldn't go."

  "If I had better clothes, I should wear them, mother; but as I haven't,I shall wear these. I hope to earn money enough some time to get abetter coat; but grandpa wore this, and I am not ashamed to wear what hewore," he replied, more resolute than ever. Perhaps, if he could haveseen how he looked, he would not have been quite so determined, for thesleeves hung like bags on his arms, and the tail almost touched thefloor.

  Mr. Rhythm had just rapped the scholars to their seats when Paulentered. There was a tittering, a giggle, then a roar of laughter. Mr.Rhythm looked round to see what was the matter, and smiled. For a momentPaul's courage failed him. It was not so easy to be laughed at as he hadimagined. He was all but ready to turn about and leave the room. "No Iwon't, I'll face it out," he said to himself, walking deliberately to aseat, and looking bravely round, as if asking, "What are you laughingat?"

  There was something in his manner which instantly won Mr. Rhythm'srespect, and which made him ashamed of himself for having laughed."Silence! No more laughing," he said; but, notwithstanding the command,there was a constant tittering among the girls. Mr. Rhythm began bysaying, "We will sing Old Hundred. I want you all to sing, whether youcan sing right or not." He snapped his tuning-fork, and began. Theschool followed, each one singing,--putting in sharps, flats, naturals,notes, and rests, just as they pleased. "Very well. Good volume ofsound. Only I don't think Old Hundred ever was sung so before, or everwill be again," said the master, smiling.

  Michael Murphy was confident that he sang gloriously, though he nevervaried his tone up or down. He was ciphering in fractions at school, andwhat most puzzled him were the figures set to the bass. He wondered if6/4 was a vulgar fraction, and if so, he thought it would be better toexpress it as a mixed number, 1-1/2.

  During the evening, Mr. Rhythm, noticing that Michael sang without anyvariation of tone, said, "Now, Master Murphy, please sing _la_ withme";--and Michael sang bravely, not frightened in the least.

  "Very well. Now please sing it a little higher."

  "_La_," sang Michael on the same pitch, but louder.

  "Not louder, but higher."

  "LA!" responded Michael, still louder, but with the pitch unchanged.

  There was tittering among the girls.

/>   "Not so, but thus,"--and Mr. Rhythm gave an example, first low, thenhigh. "Now once more."

  "LA!" bellowed Michael on the same pitch.

  Daphne Dare giggled aloud, and the laughter, like a train of powder,ran through the girls' seats over to the boys' side of the house, whereit exploded in a loud haw! haw! Michael laughed with the others, but hedid not know what for.

  Recess came. "Halloo, Grandpa! How are you, Old Pensioner? Your coatpuckers under the arms, and there is a wrinkle in the back," said PhilipFunk to Paul. His sister Fanny pointed her finger at him; and Paul heardher whisper to one of the girls, "Did you ever see such a monkey?"

  It nettled him, and so, losing his temper, he said to Philip, "Mind yourbusiness."

  "Just hear Grandaddy Parker, the old gentleman in the bob-tailed coat,"said Philip.

  "You are a puppy," said Paul. But he was vexed with himself for havingsaid it. If he had held his tongue, and kept his temper, and braved thesneers of Philip in silence, he might have won a victory; for heremembered a Sunday-school lesson upon the text, "He that ruleth hisspirit is greater than he that taketh a city." As it was, he hadsuffered a defeat, and went home that night disgusted with himself.

  Pleasant were those singing-school evenings. Under Mr. Rhythm'sinstructions the young people made rapid progress. Then what fine timesthey had at recess, eating nuts, apples, and confectionery, picking outthe love-rhymes from the sugar-cockles!

  "I cannot tell the love I feel for you, my dove."

  was Philip's gift to Azalia. Paul had no money to purchase sweet thingsat the store; his presents were nuts which he had gathered in theautumn. In the kindness of his heart he gave a double-handful toPhilip's sister, Fanny; but she turned up her nose, and let them dropupon the floor.

  Society in New Hope was mixed. Judge Adams, Colonel Dare, and Mr. Funkwere rich men. Colonel Dare was said to be worth a hundred thousanddollars. No one knew what Mr. Funk was worth; but he had a store, and adistillery, which kept smoking day and night and Sunday, withoutcessation, grinding up corn, and distilling it into whiskey. There wasalways a great black smoke rising from the distillery-chimney. The fireswere always roaring, and the great vats steaming. Colonel Dare made hismoney by buying and selling land, wool, corn, and cattle. Judge Adamswas an able lawyer, known far and near as honest, upright, and learned.He had a large practice; but though the Judge and Colonel were sowealthy, and lived in fine houses, they did not feel that they werebetter than their neighbors, so that there was no aristocracy in theplace, but the rich and the poor were alike respected and esteemed.

  The New Year was at hand, and Daphne Dare was to give a party. She wasColonel Dare's only child,--a laughing, blue-eyed, sensible girl, whoattended the village school, and was in the same class with Paul.

  "Whom shall I invite to my party, father?" she asked.

  "Just whom you please, my dear," said the Colonel.

  "I don't know what to do about inviting Paul Parker. Fanny Funk says shedon't want to associate with a fellow who is so poor that he wears hisgrandfather's old clothes," said Daphne.

  "Poverty is not a crime, my daughter. I was poor once,--poor as Paul is.Money is not virtue, my dear. It is a good thing to have; but personsare not necessarily bad because they are poor, neither are they goodbecause they are rich," said the Colonel.

  "Should you invite him, father, if you were in my place?"

  "I do not wish to say, my child, for I want you to decide the matteryourself."

  "Azalia says that she would invite him; but Fanny says that if I invitehim, she shall not come."

  "Aha!" The Colonel opened his eyes wide. "Well, my dear, you are not tobe influenced wholly by what Azalia says, and you are to pay noattention to what Fanny threatens. You make the party. You have aperfect right to invite whom you please; and if Fanny don't choose tocome, she has the privilege of staying away. I think, however, that shewill not be likely to stay at home even if you give Paul an invitation.Be guided by your own sense of right, my darling. That is the bestguide."

  "I wish you'd give Paul a coat, father. You can afford to, can't you?"

  "Yes; but he can't afford to receive it," Daphne looked at her father inamazement. "He can't afford to receive such a gift from me, because itis better for him to fight the battle of life without any help from meor anybody else at present. A good man offered to help me when I was apoor boy; but I thanked him, and said, 'No, sir.' I had made up my mindto cut my own way, and I guess Paul has made up his mind to do the samething," said the Colonel.

  "I shall invite him. I'll let Fanny know that I have a mind of my own,"said Daphne, with determination in her voice.

  Her father kissed her, but kept his thoughts to himself. He appeared tobe pleased, and Daphne thought that he approved her decision.

  The day before New Year Paul received a neatly folded note, addressed toMr. Paul Parker. How funny it looked! It was the first time in his lifethat he had seen "Mr." prefixed to his name. He opened it, and read thatMiss Daphne Dare would receive her friends on New Year's eve at seveno'clock. A great many thoughts passed through his mind. How could he goand wear his grandfather's coat? At school he was on equal footing withall; but to be one of a party in a richly furnished parlor, wherePhilip, Fanny, and Azalia, and other boys and girls whose fathers hadmoney, could turn their backs on him and snub him, was very different.It was very kind in Daphne to invite him, and ought he not to accept herinvitation? Would she not think it a slight if he did not go? Whatexcuse could he offer if he stayed away? None, except that he had nonice clothes. But she knew that, yet she had invited him. She was atrue-hearted girl, and would not have asked him if she had not wantedhim. Thus he turned the matter over, and decided to go.

  But when the time came, Paul was in no haste to be there. Two or threetimes his heart failed him, while on his way; but looking across thesquare, and seeing Colonel Dare's house all aglow,--lights in theparlors and chambers, he pushed on resolutely, determined to be manly,notwithstanding his poverty. He reached the house, rang the bell, andwas welcomed by Daphne in the hall.

  "Good evening, Paul. You are very late. I was afraid you were notcoming. All the others are here," she said, her face beaming withhappiness, joy, and excitement. She was elegantly dressed, for she washer father's pet, and he bought everything for her which he thoughtwould make her happy.

  "Better late than never, isn't it?" said Paul, not knowing what else tosay.

  Although the party had been assembled nearly an hour, there had been nogames. The girls were huddled in groups on one side of the room, and theboys on the other, all shy, timid, and waiting for somebody to break theice. Azalia was playing the piano, while Philip stood by her side. Hewas dressed in a new suit of broadcloth, and wore an eye-glass. Fannywas present, though she had threatened not to attend if Paul wasinvited. She had changed her mind. She thought it would be better toattend and make the place too hot for Paul; she would get up such alaugh upon him that he would be glad to take his hat and sneak away, andnever show himself in respectable society again. Philip was in thesecret, and so were a dozen others who looked up to Philip and Fanny.Daphne entered the parlor, followed by Paul. There was a suddentittering, snickering, and laughing. Paul stopped and bowed, then stooderect.

  "I declare, if there isn't old Grandaddy," said Philip, squintingthrough his eye-glass.

  "O my! how funny!" said a girl from Fairview.

  "Ridiculous! It is a shame!" said Fanny, turning up her nose.

  "Who is he?" the Fairview girl asked.

  "A poor fellow who lives on charity,--so poor that he wears hisgrandfather's old clothes. We don't associate with him," was Fanny'sreply.

  Paul heard it. His cheek flushed, but he stood there, determined tobrave it out. Azalia heard and saw it all. She stopped playing in themiddle of a measure, rose from her seat with her cheeks all aflame, andwalked towards Paul, extending her hand and welcoming him. "I am gladyou have come, Paul. We want you to wake us up. We have been halfaslee
p," she said.

  The laughter ceased instantly, for Azalia was queen among them.Beautiful in form and feature, her chestnut hair falling in luxuriantcurls upon her shoulders, her dark hazel eyes flashing indignantly, hercheeks like blush-roses, every feature of her countenance lighted up bythe excitement of the moment, her bearing subdued the conspiracy atonce, hushing the derisive laughter, and compelling respect, not onlyfor herself, but for Paul. It required an effort on his part to keepback the tears from his eyes, so grateful was he for her kindness.

  "Yes, Paul, we want you to be our general, and tell us what to do," saidDaphne.

  "Very well, let us have Copenhagen to begin with," he said.

  The ice was broken. Daphne brought in her mother's clothes-line, thechairs were taken from the room, and in five minutes the parlor washumming like a beehive.

  "I don't see what you can find to like in that disagreeable creature,"said Philip to Azalia.

  "He is a good scholar, and kind to his mother, and you know howcourageous he was when he killed that terrible dog," was her reply.

  "I think he is an impudent puppy. What right has he to thrust himselfinto good company, wearing his grandfather's old clothes?" Philipresponded, dangling his eye-glass and running his soft hand through hishair.

  "Paul is poor; but I never have heard anything against his character,"said Azalia.

  "Poor folks ought to be kept out of good society," said Philip.

  "What do you say to that picture?" said Azalia, directing his attentiontowards a magnificent picture of Franklin crowned with laurel by theladies of the court of France, which hung on the wall. "BenjaminFranklin was a poor boy, and dipped candles for a living; but he becamea great man."

  "Dipped candles! Why, I never heard of that before," said Philip,looking at the engraving through his eye-glass.

  "I don't think it is any disgrace to Paul to be poor. I am glad thatDaphne invited him," said Azalia, so resolutely that Philip remainedsilent. He was shallow-brained and ignorant, and thought it not best tohazard an exposure of his ignorance by pursuing the conversation.

  After Copenhagen they had Fox and Geese, and Blind-man's-buff. Theyguessed riddles and conundrums, had magic writing, questions andanswers, and made the parlor, the sitting-room, the spacious halls, andthe wide stairway ring with their merry laughter. How pleasant thehours! Time flew on swiftest wings. They had a nice supper,--sandwiches,tongue, ham, cakes, custards, floating-islands, apples, and nuts. Aftersupper they had stories, serious and laughable, about ghosts andwitches, till the clock in the dining-room held up both of its hands andpointed to the figure twelve, as if in amazement at their late staying."Twelve o'clock! Why, how short the evening has been!" said they, whenthey found how late it was. They had forgotten all about Paul's coat,for he had been the life of the party, suggesting something new when thegames lagged. He was so gentlemanly, and laughed so heartily andpleasantly, and was so wide awake, and managed everything so well, that,notwithstanding the conspiracy to put him down, he had won the good willof all the party.

  During the evening Colonel Dare and Mrs. Dare entered the room. TheColonel shook hands with Paul, and said, "I am very happy to see youhere to-night, Paul." It was spoken so heartily and pleasantly that Paulknew the Colonel meant it.

  The young gentlemen were to wait upon the young ladies home. Theirhearts went pit-a-pat. They thought over whom to ask and what to say.They walked nervously about the hall, pulling on their gloves, while thegirls were putting on their cloaks and hoods up stairs. They also werein a fever of expectation and excitement, whispering mysteriously, theirhearts going like trip-hammers.

  Daphne stood by the door to bid her guests good night. "I am very gladthat you came to-night, Paul," she said, pressing his hand ingratitude, "I don't know what we should have done without you."

  "I have passed a very pleasant evening," he replied.

  Azalia came tripping down the stairs. "Shall I see you home, Azalia?"Paul asked.

  "Miss Adams, shall I have the delightful pleasure of being permitted toescort you to your residence?" said Philip, with his most gallant air,at the same time pushing by Paul with a contemptuous look.

  "Thank you, Philip, but I have an escort," said Azalia, accepting Paul'sarm.

  The night was frosty and cold, though it was clear and pleasant. Thefull moon was high in the heavens, the air was still, and there were nosounds to break the peaceful silence, except the water dashing over thedam by the mill, the footsteps of the departing guests upon the frozenground, and the echoing of their voices. Now that he was with Azaliaalone, Paul wanted to tell her how grateful he was for all she had donefor him; but he could only say, "I thank you, Azalia, for your kindnessto me to-night."

  "O, don't mention it, Paul; I am glad if I have helped you. Goodnight."

  How light-hearted he was! He went home, and climbed the creakingstairway, to his chamber. The moon looked in upon him, and smiled. Hecould not sleep, so happy was he. How sweet those parting words! Thewater babbled them to the rocks, and beyond the river in the grand oldforest, where the breezes were blowing, there was a pleasant murmuringof voices, as if the elms and oaks were having a party, and all weresaying, "We are glad if we have helped you."