Volume VI Part 17 (1/2)
This manoeuver frightened the lads around him. ”See here!” said Johnny Flynn, ”Billy's hurt bad, an' we ought to do something.”
”He looks dead!” whimpered little Davy Runnion, the smallest boy present, and he ran off to tell Jim McMasters, who stood at ease, at a short distance, arranging his disordered dress.
The victor faltered as he looked upon Billy's stiffened limbs.
”We must take him home,” he said, ruefully.
Four boys lifted Billy, two at his shoulders, two at his feet. In the center he sagged slightly, despite his silent efforts to be rigidity itself. The small procession was preceded by a rabble of white-faced small boys, while the rear was guarded by Jim McMasters, meditating on the reflection that victory might be too dearly bought. Just as they reached the front steps of Mrs. Dodge's house, and were beginning the tug up toward the door, Jim burst into a loud bawl, and this so much disconcerted the youngsters who were carrying Billy that they almost dropped him on the white door-stone.
Johnny Flynn gave a mighty ring at the door-bell, and then fled down the steps and ran to the street corner, where he stood, one foot in the air, ready to run when the door opened. The neat maid who answered the bell gave a little shriek when she saw Billy's inanimate form. The boys pushed by her, dumped their burden upon the big hall sofa, and rushed out before any questions could be asked. It was plain enough, however, that Billy had got the worst of the fight. ”And sure enough he deserves it,” mentally p.r.o.nounced the servant maid as she ran to call her mistress.
Mrs. Dodge gave a dismal shriek when she saw Billy. She sent the maid for Dr. Gordon, and sat down on the sofa with Billy's head in her lap.
This was ignominious, and Billy decided to live. He opened his eyes, and in a faint voice asked for water.
When the man of medicine arrived he ordered the vanquished to bed. In the goodness of his heart, pitying the household of women, he even carried Billy upstairs and a.s.sisted in undressing him. The doctor noticed during this process various small folded papers flying out of Billy's pockets, but he did not know their meaning. It was left for Cora and Pearl, later in the day, to pick them up and examine them. Alas for Billy's faith!
In his own boyish handwriting were his inspiring ”thoughts,” ”Never say die,” ”Ketch hold prompt,” etc. Billy turned his face to the wall with a groan as the twins laid the slips of paper on his pillow.
That evening, after Billy had held a long session of sweet, silent thought, for he could not sleep, and had eaten a remarkably good supper, he opened his mind to his mother.
”No more of these for me,” he began, brus.h.i.+ng the texts from his bed onto the floor.
”Of what, w.i.l.l.y?” questioned Mrs. Dodge.
”No more holdin' the thought, and all that,” said Billy. ”I'm through.
Had too much. That's what did me up. If I hadn't been trying to think that blamed thought, I'd 'a' seen Jim a-comin'.”
”But, w.i.l.l.y,” expostulated Mrs. Dodge, ”you must hold fast.”
”Hold nothin'!” said Billy. He arose and sat up very straight in the bed. ”I tell you I am goin' to have no more nonsense. Gimme quinine, h.e.l.l, a gold basis, and capital punishment! That's my platform from this on. I'm goin' to look up a good Sunday-school to-morrow, in a church with a steeple on it, and a strict, regular minister, and all the fixin's. Remember, mother, after this I travel on my muscle weekdays, and keep Sunday like a clock!”
The twins picked up the scattered thoughts from the floor--Billy was lying in his mother's room--and their eyes were big with wonder.
”Burn 'em!” commanded Billy. Then, on second thought, he relented slightly. ”Keep 'em yourself if you want to,” he said to the twins.
”Holdin' the thought may be all right for girls, but with boys it don't work!”
SO WAGS THE WORLD
BY ANNE WARNER
(With apologies to Samuel Pepys, Esquire)
_February first_