CHAPTER II.
Max was in his room at the Academy, busy with his tasks, tryingdeterminately to forget homesickness by giving his whole mind to them,and succeeding fairly well. Very desirous, very determined was the ladto acquit himself to the very best of his ability that he might pleaseand honor both his Heavenly Father and his earthly one.
By the time the welcome sound of gun-fire and tattoo announced that theday's work was over he felt fully prepared for the morrow's recitations.But he was in no mood for play. The quiet that had reigned through thebuilding for the last two hours was suddenly broken in upon by sounds ofmirth and jollity--merry boyish voices talking, singing, someaccompanying themselves with the twang of a banjo or the tinkle of aguitar; but Max, closing and putting his book aside, kept his seat, hiselbow on the desk, his head on his hand, while with a far-away look inhis dark eyes, he indulged in a waking dream.
He seemed to see the _Dolphin_ steaming down the bay, his father,perhaps, sitting in the saloon with the other grown folks (the youngerones would be pretty sure to have retired to their state-rooms), andthinking and speaking of his absent son. Or, it might be, pacing thedeck alone, his heart going up in prayer to God for his first-born--his"might and the beginning of his strength,"--that he might be kept fromsin and every danger and evil and enabled to prove himself a brave, truefollower of Christ, never ashamed or afraid to show his colors and letit be known to all with whom he had to do that he was a disciple, aservant of the dear Lord Jesus.
"Lord, help me; help me to be brave and faithful and true," was thesilent petition that went up from the boy's heart.
"Homesick, bub?" asked a boyish voice, in mocking tones. "I believe mostof the fellows are just at the first, but they get over it after a bitwithout much doctoring."
"I'm inclined to think it is not a dangerous kind of ailment," returnedMax, in a pleasant tone, lifting his head and turning toward hiscompanion with a smile that seemed rather forced. "However, I wasthinking not of home, exactly, but the homefolks who are just at presentaboard my father's yacht and steaming down the bay."
It was only by a great effort he repressed a sigh with the concludingwords.
"That's a handsome yacht and about the largest I ever saw," was the nextremark of his room-mate, a lad--Benjamin Hunt by name--of about the sameage as himself, not particularly handsome but with a good, honest face.
"Yes, and a splendid sailor," returned Max, with enthusiasm. "Papabought her this summer and we've had a jolly good time sailing orsteaming (sometimes one and again the other, the _Dolphin_ has bothsails and engines) along the coast and a short distance out to sea."
"Had a good, safe captain?" Hunt asked, with a quizzical smile.
"My father, a retired naval officer; there could be none better,"returned Max, straightening himself slightly, while the color deepenedon his cheek.
"Yes; I don't wonder you are proud of him," laughed Hunt. "I happenedto see him when he brought you here, and I must say I thought he had afine military bearing and was--well, I think I might say one of thehandsomest men I ever saw."
"Thank you," said Max heartily, glancing up at Hunt with a gratifiedsmile. "I suppose being so fond of him I may not be a competent judge,but to me my father seems the best, the noblest, and the handsomest manthat ever lived."
"Didn't force you to come here against your will, eh?" queried Huntjestingly.
"No, indeed! he only let me come because I wanted to. I think he wouldhave been glad if I had chosen the ministry, but you see I don't think Ihave any talent in that line, and I inherit a love for the sea, and papasays a man can do best in the profession or business that is most to histaste, so that perhaps I may be more useful as a naval officer than Icould be in the ministry."
"Especially in case of war, and if you turn out a good and capablecommander," returned Hunt, tossing up a ball and catching it as it fell."I sometimes think I'd like nothing better; a fellow would have a chanceto distinguish himself, such as he could never hope for in time ofpeace."
"Yes; and if such a thing should happen I hope it will be when I'm readyto take part in the defence of my country," said Max, his cheek flushingand his eyes kindling, "but war is an awful thing considering all thekilling and maiming, to say nothing of the destruction of property; andI hope our country will never be engaged in another. But excuse me," headded, opening his Bible, "I see we have scarcely fifteen minutes nowbefore taps will sound."
At that Hunt moved away to his own side of the room, from whence hewatched Max furtively, a mocking smile on his lips.
Max was uncomfortably conscious of it, but tried to ignore it and givehis thoughts to what he was reading. Presently, closing his book heknelt and silently offered up his evening prayer, asking forgiveness ofall his sins, strength to resist temptation, and never be afraid orashamed to own himself a follower of Jesus, his loving disciple, hisservant, whose greatest desire was to know and do the Master's will; andvery earnestly he prayed that no evil might befall his dearly loved andhonored father, his sisters or brother, Mamma Vi, or any of those heloved; that they might be taken safely through all their journeying, andhe permitted to see them all again when the right time should come; andhaving committed both them and himself to the watchful care of hisHeavenly Father, he rose from his knees and began his preparations forbed.
"Well, sonny, I hope you will sleep soundly and well after saying yourprayers like the goodest of little boys," sneered Hunt.
"I shall sleep none the worse," returned Max pleasantly.
"I'll bet not a bit better than I shall without going through any suchbaby-like performance."
"God is very good and often takes care of those who don't ask him to,"said Max; "but I don't think they have any right to expect it; also I amsure I should be shamefully ungrateful if I were to lie down for mynight's rest without a word of thanks to him for his protecting careover me and mine through the day that is just past. As to its being ababy-like performance, it is one in which some of the greatest, as wellas best men, have indulged. Washington was a man of prayer. So wasGeneral Daniel Morgan--that grand revolutionary officer who whippedTarleton so completely at the battle of the Cowpens. There wasMacdonough also, who gained that splendid victory over the British onLake Champlain in the war of 1812-14. Have you forgotten that justbefore the fight began, after he had put springs on his cables, had thedecks cleared, and everything was ready for action, with his officersand men around him, he knelt down near one of his heaviest guns and in afew words asked God to help him in the coming struggle? He might well dothat, because, as you know of course, we were in the right, fightingagainst oppression and wrongs fit to rouse the indignation of the mostpatient and forbearing of mortals."
"That's a fact!" interrupted Hunt. "Americans have always beenforbearing at the start; but let them get once thoroughly roused andthey make things hot enough for the aggressors."
"So they do," said Max, "and so I think they always will; I hope so,anyhow; for I don't believe it's right for any nation to allow any ofits people to be so dreadfully wronged and ill-treated as thousands ofour poor sailors were, by the English, before the war of 1812 taughtthem better. I don't believe the mass of the English people approved,but they couldn't keep their aristocracy--who hated republicanism, andwanted always to continue superior in station and power to the mass oftheir countrymen and ours--from oppressing and abusing our poor sailors,impressing, flogging, and ill-treating them in various ways, and to sucha degree that it makes one's blood boil in reading or thinking of it.And I think it's right enough for one to be angry and indignant at suchwrongs to others."
"Of course it is," said Hunt; "and Americans always will resistoppression--of themselves or their weaker brethren--and I glory in thefact. What a fight that was of Macdonough's! Do you remember theincident of the gamecock?"
"No; what was it?"
"It seems that one of the shots from the British vessel _Linnet_demolished a hencoop on the deck of the _Saratoga_, releasing thisgamecock, and that he flew to a gun-sli
de, where he alighted, thenclapped his wings and crowed lustily.
"That delighted our sailors, who accepted the incident as an omen of thevictory that crowned their arms before the fight was over. They cheeredand felt their courage strengthened."
"Good!" said Max, "that cock was at better business than the fighting hehad doubtless been brought up to."
"Yes; so say I:
"O Johnny Bull, my joe John, Behold on Lake Champlain, With more than equal force, John, You tried your fist again; But the cock saw how 'twas going. And cried 'Cock-a-doodle-doo,' And Macdonough was victorious, Johnny Bull, my joe!"
"Pretty good," laughed Max. "But there are the taps; so good-night."