Chapter VI: The Senseless Boy

MRS. DODGE left the room in great distress, and at the same moment the Doctor's old buggy drove into the yard.

Mr. Dodge was leading his horse to the trough in the yard and came hurrying forward to ascertain the Doctor's errand.

"What! Why!" he cried in sudden alarm. "Who have you there? Not our Jimmy!"

"Yes, it's Jimmy. I don't know yet how much he is hurt. Mr. Crawson is just behind. He'll hold the horse's head while you lift him out, my arm is rather cramped."

"Mother," screamed Mr. Dodge scarcely knowing what he did.

Mrs. Dodge came rushing down the steps, her face frightfully pale, her arms extended toward her poor erring boy.

"Is he drowned?" The words forced themselves through her white lips.

"When we get him on the bed, I'll explain," said Mr. Crawson his face working with emotion.

"Now I'll tell the truth," added the man, "though it carries my own boy to prison for life."

The Doctor was bending over the child with his ear to the silent chest, while Mrs. Dodge forcibly suppressing her groans, held her boy's limp hand, kissing it again and again.

"Daniel and he," pointing to the bed, "were in my boat. They had a quarrel about some lilies they had gathered. Daniel has a hot temper, and he struck Jimmy on the head with his oar. If he's killed him, why—"

He could say no more, his face was convulsed with emotion, he went quickly out of the house.

The Doctor after some farther examination ordered an application of ice to the head, and insisted upon perfect quiet. He left powders to be administered once in two or three hours and went away, promising to return soon.

"Will he live?" asked Mr. Crawson who had been waiting near the buggy.

"Can't tell. 'Twas a cruel blow. I'm afraid to think of the result. Good day, sir."

For a moment Mr. Crawson stood as though stupefied. He had not been a tender father. He had been brought up roughly himself and had always repelled his sons. But now that Daniel, his favorite, was threatened with danger, his affection burned fiercely; and at the same time his conscience reproached him with neglecting his duty to his boy.

"I wont flinch from what's the right thing to do though," he said clinching his hard hands, so back he went to the door and requested Ellen to call Mr. Dodge.

"You know where to find us if wanted," he faltered. "I'll be surety that he don't run away."

The stricken father bowed assent. He had not the most distant idea of his neighbor's meaning.

Oh, how true the Bible is when it says, "the way of transgressors is hard!" How much suffering not only to themselves but to those connected with them, did these two boys bring about by their disobedience, deceit, truancy and falsehood!

What do you suppose, my little reader, was the most dreadful reflection of the poor mother, as she bent over her boy? It was that her Jimmy had been guilty of so much sin against God.

"Spare his life, Oh my father! Spare him to repent!" was her constant though silent cry. "Take him not away in wrath. Spare him for Christ's sake."

Two hours later when the Doctor came again, Jimmy had roused from his lethargy; but did not recognise any one. His flesh was burning with fever, and occasionally he uttered a shriek of distress. Every symptom was unfavorable; and the Doctor, though kind and sympathetic could not give the stricken parents one word of hope.

Leaving his wife weeping by the bed side, Mr. Dodge followed the physician to the door.

"This suspense is terrible," he gasped. "It would be better to know the worst at once."

"Leave the result with God, my afflicted friend."

"I try to do that, but cannot you give me—"

"Would you have his life at the sacrifice of his reason," asked the Doctor interrupting him. Then without another word he got into his buggy, and drove away.

It was near midnight when Ellen, too anxious to sleep, took her lamp, and went to fasten the back door. She started to see a man standing there, but presently recognised Mr. Crawson.

"How is he?" asked the husky voice.

"Very bad indeed!" shrieking and crying out; "Don't, Dan! I wouldn't do so! You said your father gave you leave. I think I ought to have half the lilies. No, I don't think mother would like it if she knew I was here."

Mr. Crawson groaned and turned away.

At home, poor Daniel sobbing and trembling with fear, had confessed to his father every thing that had occurred; how he hated study and had taken every opportunity to play truant; how he had robbed bird's nests, and used the boat many times without permission;—how he had enticed Jimmy on Tuesday, and again on that fatal day;—how Jimmy had made him angry by reproving him for lying; how he had charged the same upon Jimmy;—and how ashamed the poor boy looked;—and at last how frightened he was after he had struck the terrible blow.

Then when Mr. Crawson instead of being angry gazed into his face with an expression of anguish, such as he had never seen there before, Daniel fell on his knees at his father's feet, exclaiming:

"Oh, don't look like that! Whip me. I'll bring the strap; but oh don't look so! I'd never have been naughty in all the world if I'd known 'twould make you feel so bad."

"Daniel, my boy, what do you suppose I'm thinking of?"

"I can't tell, father."

"I'm thinking if I'd been a better man myself, and brought you up right, this never would have happened. Whatever comes of this, and you oughter to know there's danger afore yer, I shall allus feel the dagger here," bringing a crushing blow against his own heart.

The penitent boy burst into a fresh cry, and leaving the kitchen ran up to his chamber in the attic.

"I wouldn't take on so," said Amos trying to speak in a sympathizing tone. "I'd come to bed, and try to forget it."