Part 7 (1/2)
”All right, sir, go a-head,” was the general cry.
CHAPTER VI.
OUR NED.
”I always feel inclined,” began Mr Arnold, ”to pity a boy who has no friend or companion to whom he can look up with admiration and love, and whom he regards as quite a hero. It is a good thing ever to have something or some one above us, at whom we can gaze, and after whom we can strive. It should be our aim through life to look up, and not down; men do not climb to great heights by keeping their eyes intently fixed on the ground, but, on the contrary, by looking forward and upward. And no one can say he is in want of a hero to imitate and love, when the greatest hero of all the world is perpetually before him.
”'Our Ned' was my hero, and though some people would have it he was a trifle wild, I never found him so, and certainly, after all these years, cannot bring my mind to think so now. He was the boldest, bravest, kindest, most true-hearted and generous boy, that man, woman, or child ever set eyes on. True, he loved a bit of harmless mischief for the fun of the thing, but was far too n.o.ble-spirited to do a mean or cowardly action, and would scorn to take an unjust and bullying advantage over a boy who was weaker or younger than himself. Some boys think they are exhibiting a manliness of character if they tease and torment those who are unable to protect themselves, instead of which they are doing just about as mean a thing as boys can do. What is the use of possessing strength if we exercise it in oppressing others? A true boy, or man, should reserve his strength to protect those who are unable to take care of themselves; and as you go through the world, you will find plenty of that sort.
”I loved our Ned second only to my mother, and I know he loved me in return. We did not express the love we cherished for each other like girls at a boarding-school, by hugging and kissing, and 'dearing' and 'ducking' at every spare moment; no, boys show their love after a different fas.h.i.+on, and kisses with them go for very little, and are considered rather a nuisance than otherwise. If he had a s.h.i.+lling, half of it was mine; I might use his books, pencils, marbles, bat, ball, or, for that matter, anything that was his, and he in his turn was welcome to anything I possessed. If he saw a big boy bullying me, he wasted no words in useless remonstrances, but instead, off with his jacket and fought him at once. You must not think him a quarrelsome boy, who always wanted to be fighting; nothing of the sort, but he cherished a firm conviction--and I don't think he was far wrong--that big, hulking bullies deserved no better treatment than that contained in good, hard, knockdown blows, and these he never hesitated to give, did the occasion warrant it. Of course, he sometimes got the worst of it, but he never minded an atom, not he; he would pick himself up on such occasions, spitting the blood and dirt from his mouth, and cheerily say, as he saw my look of concern: 'All right, Archie, not dead yet; better luck next time!' And his jacket would be on, and he walking by my side as calmly as possible, without once alluding to his wounds and bruises.
”Yes, Ned was a brave fellow. I remember his coming home one afternoon with a fearfully nasty bite in his left arm, some stingy, big brute of a cur had given him, because he would not let it worry a little girl carrying a big basket, whom it was terrifying into convulsions with yelping and snarling, and making sudden and ferocious grabs at her bare little legs. He gave the beast a kick, and it turned and fastened its long yellow-looking teeth in his arm, and almost bit it through.
Our mother was in a terrible way, and wanted to have the dog killed, but n.o.body knew whose it was, or where it had gone. The doctor burned the wound; and although he turned pale, our Ned did not cry out, but stood it, as the doctor admiringly said, 'like a hero.' When it was bandaged up he put on his jacket, saying, 'Well, that's over.' Mother did not appear to think so; she looked troubled and anxious, shook her head doubtfully, and said, 'I am afraid not.' Then brus.h.i.+ng back his hair caressingly with her hand, kissing his forehead, and looking into his dark brown, honest, and fearless eyes, added, half chidingly, half admiringly, 'Ned, my boy, though I would not for the world that you should be different from what you are, a brave, true-hearted lad, yet I sadly fear your high spirit will get you into many a trouble.'
”'Never mind the trouble, mamma,' replied our Ned, 'so long as it keeps me from doing a mean or cowardly action.'
”He was very nearly getting into trouble once, however, for interfering between a brutal tramp and his wife. There was no principle our Ned adhered to so firmly, as that no provocation, however great, justified a boy in striking a girl, or a man a woman; he held to this as staunchly as kings to the doctrine of divine right.
'Depend upon it, Archie,' he would say, 'a boy who would strike a girl is a mean-spirited puppy, and a man who would strike a woman is a cowardly cur, and one deserves drowning, and the other hanging! Why, I read that even dogs respect the s.e.x, and no respectable dog would so far forget himself as to attack his female companion. I can't say whether the feminines are quite so particular; I am not so certain on that point, but then you must make every allowance, they have a deal to put up with. No, no, Archie; rest a.s.sured there is nothing so mean and cowardly as striking women and girls.'
”Thinking thus, boys, it will not surprise you to learn that 'our Ned'
was in continual hot water by making himself the champion of every girl he saw ill-treated. Was some little girl having her hair pulled, or her arms pinched, by a thoughtless or cruel urchin, directly she caught sight of my brother, she ran to him for protection, while her tormentor scuttled away equally fast in an opposite direction, his ears tingling in antic.i.p.ation of the coming correction. Was a larger and older girl threatened by some ill-natured brother, or brother's chum, she felt herself safe if our Ned made his appearance. In short, he was always ready, at whatever odds, to do battle for the 'weaker s.e.x,' as he jestingly called them. This trait in his character procured for him the name of the 'Young Don Quixote,' and he was as frequently called the 'young Don' as he was by his baptismal name.
”But to return to the tramp. We were walking home one afternoon from school, when, just as we turned a bend in the road, we came close upon a man and woman quarrelling; the man was in the act of striking the woman with a stick as we hove in sight. Our Ned's face flushed up as he saw the man's action, and clenching his hands, he was rus.h.i.+ng forward, when I caught him by the jacket, imploring him to stay. He flashed a look, half indignant, half surprised, back at me, exclaiming, 'What, Archie?' and was off. The stick had descended before he reached the scene of contention, but he thrust himself between the victim and her tyrant, who was preparing for a repet.i.tion of the blow. 'You big, cowardly brute!' he cried; 'haven't you manhood enough left in you not to strike a woman?'
”The fellow seemed actually paralysed with surprise at Ned's audacity; he gazed at him for a moment or two with amazement, while the stick which had been in the act of descending remained suspended in the air.
The man, however, soon recovered himself, and looked so fierce and brutal that I trembled with apprehension for Ned's safety.
”'Get out of the way, you young fool, or I'll be the death of you,'
said the man, trying to thrust him on one side.
”'Not unless you promise not to strike the woman,' replied Ned, undauntedly.
”'What?' roared the infuriated fellow; 'why, she's my own wife!'
”'More shame, then, for you to touch her.'
”The man swore a terrible oath, seized Ned by the throat, struck fiercly at him with the stick, and finally threw him to the other side of the road, where he fell all in a heap, after which the fellow walked off in the direction of the town we had just left. I hastened to my brother, and seeing him lie there so still, and with his face discoloured, I concluded he was dead, and cried out with a great burst of grief, 'He's killed, he's killed!'
”'Hus.h.!.+ laddie, he's not done for,' said a rough but kindly voice, and looking up I saw the woman, on whose behalf he had done battle, bending over him. 'He's not dead; untie his neckerchief, and give him some air; he's only dazed a bit; he's a brave laddie though. There, see, he's coming round! But I must be off. A brave laddie that!'
”Ned was soon able to rise to his feet and resume his walk homeward; he was a little shaky on the legs, and was compelled to lean heavily on my shoulder as he limped along.
”'You see, Archie,' he said, 'it was such a choker; the beast griped so hard, I couldn't get a chance to kick his s.h.i.+ns; it was all grip and tumble. I think he must have hit me on the head, it feels rather sore.' Brave old Ned, throat and head both bore marks of the fellow's violence for more than a week after.
”Such was 'our Ned.' He was always doing something to make my heart throb with pride, and a look of pleasure kindled in our mother's eyes.
He was a brother to be proud of, I can tell you.
”Once every year we shut up house and paid a visit to a brother of my father's, who resided by the sea sh.o.r.e, on the eastern coast of our island. This visit was always a source of pleasure to Ned and myself.
Living inland, the sight of Old Father Ocean, in calm or in storm, was like the face of a dear old friend which we hail with delight. We usually contrived to make the best of our six weeks' stay, and would crowd as much pleasure as it was possible into every day; no moment hung heavily on our hands, the time pa.s.sed only too rapidly, so that at the end of each visit we appeared to have been there but three, instead of six weeks.