CHAPTER VIII.
Max had a most pleasant surprise when the mail was distributed on thatfirst morning after his arrival at the Naval Academy. Till his name wascalled, he had hardly hoped there would be anything for him, and then asa letter was handed him, and he recognized upon it his father'swell-known writing, his cheek flushed and his eyes shone.
A hasty glance at his mates showed him that each seemed intent upon hisown affairs,--no one watching him,--so he broke the seal and read withswelling heart the few sentences of fatherly advice and affection thecaptain had found time to pen before the _Dolphin_ weighed anchor theprevious evening. He knew the homesickness that would assail his son onthat first day of separation from himself and all composing the dearhome circle, and was fain to relieve it so far as lay in his power.
Max read the letter twice, then, refolding, slipped it into his pocketto read again and ponder upon when he could find a moment of leisure andfreedom from observation.
More firmly convinced than ever, if that were possible, was the ladthat his was the best, kindest, and dearest of fathers.
"And if I don't do him credit and make him happy and proud of hisfirst-born, it shall not be for want of trying," was his mental resolve.
It was fortunate for Max that his father had been seen and admired bythe cadets, who one and all thought him a splendid specimen of navalofficer, and were therefore well disposed toward his son.
Then Max himself had such a bright, intelligent face and genial manner,was so ready to assist or oblige a comrade in any right and honorableway that lay in his power, so very conscientious about obeying rules anddoing his duty in everything, and brave in facing ridicule, insolence,and contempt, when the choice was between that and wrong-doing, that noone of them could help respecting him, whether willing to acknowledge itor not.
At first the "plebes," or boys in the same class (the fourth), who hadentered in June of the same year, showed a disposition to treat him, aswell as the other "Seps,"--as the lads entering in September arestyled,--with scorn, as knowing less than themselves; but that soonchanged under the exhibition Max was able to make of all he had learnedfrom his father during the weeks on board the _Dolphin_, showing himselfperfectly at home in "rigging-loft work," rowing, and swimming, and byno means slow in taking to great-gun exercise, infantry tactics, andfield artillery.
Nor was he less ready in the art of swinging a hammock. His father hadnot neglected that part of his education, and Hunt and others who hadhoped for some fun in watching his maiden effort had to own themselvesdefeated and disappointed. Max was as expert at that as the oldestmember of the class.
So the "plebes" soon dropped their air of conscious superiority andpresently began to treat him as an equal; a change which he reported tohis father with evident satisfaction. He wrote frequently and with muchopenness to that father, telling of his duties and pleasures and askingadvice in any perplexity as freely as he could have asked it of any onenear his own age, and with full confidence in the wisdom and theaffection for him which would dictate the reply.
Nor was he disappointed; almost every day a letter came from thecaptain, breathing strong fatherly affection, giving commendation,encouragement, and the best of advice; also telling everything about thedoings and happenings in the family that was not related by Mamma Vi orone of Max's sisters, who not unfrequently added a note to papa's largerletter.
All those letters, like the first, were highly prized by the recipientand read and reread in leisure moments till he could have repeated theircontents almost word for word; and every perusal increased the lad'sdesire and determination to be and do all those dear ones--especiallyhis father--could wish; also to please and honor him to whose servicehe had consecrated his life and all his powers.
Max was not perfect, but he was honest and true, and sincerely desirousto do right.
He was much interested in the accounts received of the visits ofhis father and the others to the scenes of revolutionary events inPennsylvania and New Jersey, and, though far from regretting his choiceof a profession, could not help wishing he could have made one of theparty.
One day, after he had spent some weeks in the Academy, he wasdisappointed in his expectation of receiving a letter; none came thenext day; but then it occurred to him that the _Dolphin_ was probably onher homeward way and he would soon get a letter from Woodburn, tellingof the arrival there of all belonging to the dear home circle.
And he was right; a package of letters came presently giving an accountof the events of the last days spent in Philadelphia, the return voyage,and the joy of the arrival at their own beautiful and happy home.
Ah, as Max read, how he longed to be with them! Yet the concludingsentences of his father's letter restored him to contentment with thingsas they were.
The captain had just received and read the report of his boy's conductand academic standing for his first month and was much pleased with it.He made that very clear to the lad, calling him his dear son, his joyand pride, and telling him that until he was a father himself he couldnever know the joy and happiness such a report of a son's behavior andimprovement of his opportunities could give.
"Ah," thought the boy, "I'll try harder than ever since it gives suchpleasure to my kindest and best of fathers. How glad I am to have thechance! How thankful I ought to be! I doubt if there was ever a morefortunate boy than myself."
Max and his room-mate, Hunt, liked each other from the first, and seldomhad the slightest disagreement.
According to the rules they took turns, week about, in keeping theirroom in order, each trying to outdo his mate in the thoroughness withwhich he attended to all the minutiae of the business.
They were good-natured rivals too in other matters connected with thecourse of instruction they were going through: gymnastic exercises,fencing and boxing, and the drill called fire-quarters, in which thewhole battalion is formed into a fire-brigade, and when the fire-bell issounded each cadet hastens to his proper place in the troop, and thesteam fire-engine and hose-carriages belonging to the Academy arebrought out and used as they would be in case some building were inflames and the cadets were called upon to assist in extinguishing theblaze.
Max and his chum had become quite expert at that exercise, when onenight they were roused from sleep by the sound of the fire-bell, andspringing up and running to their window saw that a dwelling severalsquares from the Academy was in flames.
"It's a real fire this time!" cried Hunt, snatching up a garment andbeginning a very hurried toilet, Max doing the same, "and now we'll havea chance to show how well we understand the business of putting it out."
"And we must try to do credit to our training here in the Academy,"added Max.
An hour or more of great excitement and exertion followed, then, thefire extinguished, the brigade returned to the Academy, and the lads totheir sleeping-room, so weary with their exertions that they were verysoon sound asleep again.
The experiences of that night furnished Max with material for aninteresting letter to his father and the rest of the home folks.
"I didn't know the cadets were taught how to put out fires," remarkedGrace, when her father had finished reading aloud, to his wife andchildren, Max's story of the doings of the cadets on that night.
"Yes," the captain said, "that is an important part of their education.There are a great many things a cadet needs to know."
"I suppose so, papa," said Lulu, "and though Maxie doesn't say muchabout his own share in the work, I feel very sure he did his part. Andaren't you proud of him--your eldest son?"
"I am afraid I am," replied her father, with a smile in his eyes. "Itmay be all parental partiality, but my boy seems to me one of whom anyfather might well be proud."
"And I am quite of your opinion, my dear," said Violet. "I am very proudof my husband's son--the dear, good, brave fellow."
But the captain's eyes were again upon the letter, his face expressingboth interest and amusement.
"What is it, Levis?" she asked; "somet
hing more that you can share withthe rest of us?"
"Yes," he returned; then read aloud:
"That was Friday night, and this is Saturday evening. This afternoonHunt and I were allowed to go into the city. We were walking along oneof the side streets, and came upon a man who was beating his horse mostunmercifully.
"The poor thing was just a bag of bones, that seemed to have nothing butskin over them, and was hitched to a cart heavily loaded with earth andstones; its head was down, and it looked ready to drop, while the savagewretch (not worthy to be called a man) was beating it furiously, andcursing and swearing in a towering passion; men and boys gatheringaround, and some calling him to stop.
"But he didn't pay the smallest attention, till the poor beast spoke--atleast the voice seemed to come from its mouth--'Aren't you ashamed to bebeating me so, and swearing at me, too, when you've starved me till Ihaven't strength to drag even myself another step?'
"At that the man stopped both his beating and swearing, and stoodlooking half scared out of his wits. The crowd, too, lookedthunderstruck; and presently one fellow said, 'It's the story of Balaamand his ass over again. There must be an angel somewhere round,'glancing from side to side as he spoke, in a way that almost made melaugh, angry as I was at the human brute, or rather the inhumanscoundrel, who had been treating the poor creature so cruelly.
"Others looked too, but didn't seem to be able to see the angel.
"Hunt, standing close at my side, gave a low whistle. 'What, uponearth?' he said. 'Oh, there must be a ventriloquist somewhere in thecrowd. I'd like to know who he is. Wouldn't you, Max?'
"Do you really think that's the explanation?' I asked. 'Certainly,' heanswered, in a tone as if he was rather disgusted at my stupidity. 'Howelse could you account for the seeming ability of that wretched animalto talk?'
"'I can't think of any other explanation,' I answered, 'but I hope thatinhuman wretch of a driver doesn't know anything about ventriloquists,and so will be afraid to ill-use the poor creature any more.' 'I hopeso, indeed,' he said. 'See, the crowd are stroking and patting it, andyonder comes a man with a bucket of water, and another with a panful ofoats. The ventriloquist has done some good.'
"'I'm glad of it,' I replied. Then, looking at my watch, I saw that itwas time for us to go back to the Academy.
"Hunt told the story to some of the other fellows that evening, andthere was great wonderment about the ventriloquist, and a good manywished they could have a chance to see him and some of his tricks. Someof them remarked, in a wondering way, that I seemed very indifferentabout it, and then I told them of Cousin Ronald and his doings at Ion,which interested them very much, and several said they would likegreatly to make his acquaintance and see and hear what he could do.Isn't it good, papa, that they have never once suspected me?"
"Well," exclaimed Lulu, "Max used his talent to do good that time.Didn't he, papa?"
"He did, indeed," replied the captain. "I hope that poor horse will, asa consequence, receive better treatment in future."
"I'm so glad Maxie could frighten the man so and make him stop treatingit so dreadfully," remarked Grace, with a sigh of relief. "I neverthought before that that talent of his was good for anything but to makefun for folks."
"The ability to afford amusement to others is a talent not to bedespised," said her father; "for innocent mirth often does good like amedicine; but power to rescue even a dumb beast from ill-treatment isstill more to be coveted, and I shall be glad indeed if Max will use hisgift in that way whenever opportunity offers."