CHAPTER IV
THE FOURTH OF JULY
Charles Hardy was sadly disappointed. He had given his money to thewidow Weston in the fullest confidence that it would be refunded tohim, and that he should be able to attend the celebration in Boston.When Frank had proposed the charitable plan, his heart told him howgood and pleasant it would be to assist the poor woman. His feelingswere with his friend in the benevolent design; it was a mere impulse,however, which prompted him to join in the act. He thought of thesacrifice, but the hope of not being actually compelled to make it inthe end involuntarily helped him to a decision.
His father had misjudged his motive in calling him hypocritical, for hereally felt like doing the noble deed. He felt kindly towards the widowWeston; but his principle was not strong and deep enough to enable himto bear with pleasure, or even with a good grace, the deprivation whichhis benevolent act had called upon him to suffer.
It was not so with Frank. He had given without the hope of reward; andin staying at home on the Fourth of July, he was perfectly contented,because it was the price he paid for the pleasure of doing good.
Charles, when he found that Captain Sedley did not come for him,hastened over to find Frank. He and Tony Weston were on the beach.
"Hello, Charley! We have been waiting for you," said Frank, as heapproached.
"Hello, fellows! What's in the wind?" replied Charles. "What are yougoing to do to-day?"
"We were just thinking about something."
"Has your father gone to the city, Frank?"
"Yes."
"What did he say?"
"Nothing."
"Didn't he look surprised?"
"Not much. He only asked me the reason, and I said I would tell himto-morrow. He didn't say any more about it. Got off nicely, didn't I?"
"First-rate," replied Charles coldly.
"What are you talking about?" asked Tony, to whom, of course, thisconversation was unintelligible.
"Tell you some other time, Tony," replied Charles. "Now, what shall wedo to-day?"
"I don't know. Here comes Uncle Ben; perhaps he can give us an idea."
Uncle Ben was an old seaman, who had sailed a great many years in theemploy of Captain Sedley. He was a rough, blunt old fellow, but sohonest, warm-hearted, and devoted to his employer, that when the latterretired from the duties of his profession, he had given him a home onhis estate. Uncle Ben was a good sailor, but he had never risen abovethe place of second mate. Without much ambition to distinguish himself,or to make money, he was perfectly content to live with Captain Sedley,even in a humble capacity.
Frank was an especial favorite of Uncle Ben; and as the old sailor'shabits were good, and as his ideas of morality and religion renderedhim a safe companion for his son, Captain Sedley permitted andencouraged their intimacy. During the long winter evenings, he listenedwith the most intense interest and delight to Uncle Ben's descriptionsof sea life and of the various countries he had visited.
With the neighbors, and especially the boys in the vicinity, the oldsailor was respected, and treated with a great deal of consideration.He was an old man, but he had always maintained an unblemishedcharacter. He was full of kindness and sympathy, always manifesting theliveliest regard for the welfare of his friends; and on this accountpeople had got into the way of calling him by the familiar _sobriquet_of Uncle Ben. It is true he was sometimes rude and rough, but his kindheart atoned for the blemishes in his deportment.
Though Captain Sedley considered Uncle Ben a necessary appendage to hisestate, he did not impose upon him the performance of any very arduousduties. He kept a pleasure-boat on the lake, and the old sailor had theentire charge of that. Occasionally he worked a little in the garden,groomed the horses, and did the "chores" about the house; but to usehis own expression, he was "laid up in ordinary."
"Here comes Uncle Ben," said Frank.
"I have been lookin' for you, boys. What are you up to here?"
"Nothing, Uncle Ben."
"What do you stand there for, then? Arn't this the Fourth of July?"
"It is, Uncle Ben; and we were thinking what we should do withourselves. Can't you tell us?"
"That I can, boys; I am goin' across the lake in the boat, and Cap'nSedley told me I might take you over with me if you'd like to go."
"Hurrah!" cried Charles Hardy, throwing up his cap with delight.
"That we would, Uncle Ben; and right glad we are of the chance to go,"replied Frank.
"Tumble up to the boat-house, then," replied Uncle Ben, as he hobbledafter the boys, who, delighted with the prospect of a sail on the lake,bounded off like so many antelopes.
The boat was cast off from her moorings in the boat-house, and the boysjumped in.
"You will let me steer, won't you, Uncle Ben?" said Frank.
"Sartin, if you want to. Take the helm."
The old sailor hoisted the sails, and the boat stood out towards themiddle of the lake.
"Steady, there," said Uncle Ben; "keep the sails full."
Frank found it was not so easy a matter to steer a sailboat as he hadsupposed; for one moment he stopped the boat by "throwing her up intothe wind," and the next ran her almost on shore by "keeping away."
"Keep her away!" cried Uncle Ben. "That will do; steady as she is. No,no; you are six p'ints off the course now. Luff a little! Hard a port!"
"I don't know what you mean, Uncle Ben; I think you had better steeryourself," said Frank, resigning the helm.
"I think I had."
Under the old sailor's skilful management, the boat soon reached CentreIsle, where they decided to land.
"Now, boys, if you want to celebrate a little, here's half a dozenbunches of crackers," said Uncle Ben, as he took a little package fromthe locker in the stern of the boat.
"Bravo, Uncle Ben! We will have a nice time."
"Now, if you are of a mind to stay here and have a good time, while Isail over to the other shore to see a sick man, I will give you a goodsail when I return."
"Hurrah! we will, Uncle Ben. Have you got any matches?"
"There are matches and a slowmatch in the bundle," replied Uncle Ben,as he pushed off. "Now blaze away, and don't burn your fingers."
"Now for it!" exclaimed Charles, as he lighted the slowmatch. "Heregoes the first shot. Hurrah!"
The boys were in high glee. The crackers snapped admirably, and thelittle forest of Centre Isle reverberated with the reports of theirmimic guns. Various expedients were devised to vary the entertainment.Crackers were fired in the water, in the stumps, thrown in the air, orhalf buried in the wet sand of the beach.
"By gracious! the Bunkers are coming!" exclaimed Tony Weston, as hediscerned the raft, navigated by half a dozen boys, approaching theisland.
"Let them come," said Charles.
"I had rather they would not come," added Frank.
"What harm will they do?"
"They are quarrelsome and disagreeable."
"Well, they won't be here this half-hour yet; that is one consolation;and we can have a good time till they do get here," returned Charles,as he lighted a whole bunch of the crackers.
"Go it!" cried Tony. "Hurrah! Fourth of July comes but once a year."
"Don't fire them all at once, Charley," interposed Frank.
"That is all the fun of it."
"But the fun won't last long at that rate."
"We must fire them all before the Bunkers get here, or they will takethem away from us."
And before the half-hour which Charles had given them to reach theisland had expired, their stock was entirely gone, their ammunitionexhausted, their noisy patriotism evaporated, and they seatedthemselves on the grass to watch the approaching raft.
It had been a long and difficult passage, but at last the Bunkerslanded.
"Hello, Tony," said Tim, as he leaped ashore; "what are you doinghere?"
"Been firing crackers," replied Tony.
"Got any more?"
"I haven't."
"Who has?
"
"None of us," replied Frank. "We have fired them all."
"You haven't!" answered Tim with an oath.
"I tell you the truth; don't I, Charley?"
"We had but six bunches, and we have fired them all," added Charles.
"I don't believe it; you long-face fellers will lie twice as quick asone of us," said Tim, walking up to Frank.
"I have no more; I would not lie about it," protested Frank.
"Yes, yer would lie about it too. Now, just hand over some o' themcrackers, or I'll duck you in the lake."
Frank made no reply to this rude speech. He heartily wished himself offthe island, and out of the company of the newcomers.
"Hit him, Tim!" cried one of the Bunkers.
"Hit him!" repeated the others.
"Want to fight?" said Tim, doubling up his fists, and assuming apugilistic attitude.
"No, I don't want to fight; I will not fight," replied Frank,retreating backward from the quarrelsome boy.
I don't want to fight. _P._ 71.]
"Oh, you won't fight, eh? Then, you'll git licked," replied Tim,following him.
"I have not injured you; I don't see why you should wish to fight withme."
"You lie! yer have. Didn't yer tell me yer hadn't got no morecrackers?"
"I have not."
"Yes, yer have;" and Tim struck Frank a severe blow which made his lipbleed.
"Don't do that again!" cried Tony Weston, his face flushed withindignation.
"What are you going to do about it?" said Tim, turning to Tony.
"I don't want to fight, but I won't see him abused in that shape."
"Never mind him, Tony," interposed Frank. "He didn't hurt me much. Letus go over to the other side of the island."
"No, yer won't!" said Tim Bunker, approaching Frank again, and givinghim another blow in the face.
Tony Weston could bear no more; and springing upon the leader of theBunkers, he struck him several times in rapid succession.
"Don't, Tony, don't," said Frank, trying to separate the combatants.
"Fair play!" cried the Bunkers.
Tony, though younger and lighter than his antagonist, pressed him soseverely that he brought him to the ground before Frank and Charlescould draw him off. Tim instantly leaped to his feet again.
"Come on!" said he.
"Don't, Tony."
"Mind your own business!" said Tim to Frank as he renewed the assaultupon him.
Frank tried to get away; and when Tony and Charles came to hisassistance the other Bunkers attacked them, and the fight becamegeneral.
"Give it to 'em," shouted Tim, as he struck his opponent several timeson the head.
Frank saw that he had nothing to hope for unless he defended himself.He had done his best to prevent the fight, and now he felt justified inresorting to necessary violence to save himself from further injury.
Suddenly springing upon his assailant, he bore him to the ground, andheld him there. In the meantime Tony and Charles were getting the worstof it, when a loud shout arrested the attention of the combatants. Theyall suspended the strife.
"It is Uncle Ben," said Charles.
The Bunkers seemed to understand the character of the old sailor; andtaking to their heels, they fled precipitately towards the other end ofthe island.
"What are you about, boys?" said Uncle Ben sternly, as he landed.
"We could not help it, Uncle Ben; indeed we could not," replied Frank,wiping his bleeding lip, and proceeding to tell the particulars of thewhole affair.
"It was my fault; I ought not to have left you here alone. What willyour father say?" said Uncle Ben, looking much troubled.
"He will not say anything; I am sure you are not to blame, Uncle Ben."
"Jump into the boat, and let us be off. These boys must be attendedto."
Uncle Ben, instead of immediately following the boys into the boat,pushed off the raft from the shore, and attaching a line to it, madefast the other end to the boat.
"What are you going to do, Uncle Ben?" asked Frank.
"I am going to keep them ruffians prisoners for a while," replied he,as the boat shot away from the island with the raft in tow.
"You don't mean to keep them there?"
"I sartinly do, till your father comes home, and he may do what hepleases with 'em. If I had my way, I'd tie 'em up to the grating, andgive 'em a dozen apiece. 'Twould sarve 'em right, the meddlesomerascals! I like good boys, but such boys as them is worse nor marines."
"But, Uncle Ben, we can't sail with this raft dragging after us."
"We will make the shore with it, then."
The raft was towed ashore, and the boys had a fine sail the entirelength of the lake. As they passed Centre Isle, they could see theBunkers gathered in a ring, apparently discussing their prospects; andon their return, Tim hailed them, begging to be taken ashore.
"What do you say, boys? Shall we forgive 'em?" asked Uncle Ben.
"Yes!" exclaimed all three.
Uncle Ben landed at the island, and took them in, and during thepassage read them a severe lecture on the error of their ways. Theygave good attention to him, and seemed very penitent. But no sooner hadthey got ashore, and out of reach of the old sailor, than they insultedhim by hooting his name, coupled with the most opprobrious epithets.
"No use to be easy with 'em. The better you use 'em the worse theysarve you," said Uncle Ben, as he hauled the boat into its house.