Who Are Happiest? and Other Stories Part 2

"I would then," replied d.i.c.k, from whose mind the promised reward had, for the time, completely dispelled every tender impression received both from his mother, who had been very careful of her child, and his teacher at the Sunday-school. "But come," he added, "you'll go with me, anyhow."

"Not, if you are going to rob a bird's nest," firmly responded Henry.

"It is wicked to do so."

"Wicked! I don't see any thing so very wicked about it. Mr. Acres is a good man, so everybody says, and I know he wouldn't tell me to do a wicked thing."

"I'm sure it is wicked," persevered Henry Jones, "for isn't it taking the poor little birds from their mother? Don't you think it would be wicked for some great giant to come and carry your little sister away off where you could never find her, and shut her up in a cage, and keep her there all her life?"

"No, but birds are not little children. It's a very different thing. But you needn't talk, Harry; for it's no use. If you'll go along, you shall have half the money I get for the bird--if not, why, I'll go myself and keep the whole of it."

"I wouldn't go with you for a hundred dollars," said Harry half-indignantly, turning away.

"Then I'll go myself," was d.i.c.k Lawson's sneering reply, as he sprang forward and hurried off to the woods.

He did not, however, feel very easy in mind, although he attempted first to whistle gayly, and then to sing. The remonstrance of Henry Jones had its effect in calling back previous better feelings, awakened by the precepts of a good mother and the instructions of a judicious Sabbath-school teacher. To oppose these, however, were the direct sanction of Mr. Acres, towards whom he had always been taught to look with respect, and the stimulating hope of a liberal reward. These were powerful incentives--but they could not hush the inward voice of disapprobation, that seemed to speak in a louder and sterner tone with every advancing step. Still, this voice, loud as it was, could not make him pause or hesitate. Onward he pursued his way, and soon entered the woods and old fields he had fixed in his mind as the scene of his operations.

An hour's diligent search ended in the discovery of a nest, in which were two young ones, with the mother bird feeding them. This sight softened d.i.c.k's heart for a moment, but the strong desire, instantly awakened, to possess the prize for which he had been seeking, caused him to drive off the old bird, who commenced fluttering about the spot, uttering cries and showing signs of deep distress. These, although he could not help feeling them, did not cause him to desist. In a few moments he had one of the birds safely in his possession, with which he bounded off in great delight.

"Well, d.i.c.k, have you got my bird?" said Mr. Acres, as d.i.c.k came puffing and blowing into his presence.

"Yes, indeed!" returned d.i.c.k with a broad smile of pleasure, presenting the bird he had abstracted from its warm, soft nest.

"You are a fine smart boy, d.i.c.k, and will make a man one of these days!"

said Mr. Acres, patting d.i.c.k on the head encouragingly. Then, taking the bird, he toyed with it for a while fondly--fed it, and finally placed it in a cage. The promised half-dollar, which was promptly paid to the lad, made him feel rich. As he was about leaving the house of Mr. Acres, the latter called to him:

"Look here, d.i.c.k, my fine fellow, don't you want a dog? Here's Rover, the very chap for you."

"May I have Rover?" eagerly asked d.i.c.k, his eyes glistening with delight.

"Yes. I've more dogs now than I want."

"He fights well!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed d.i.c.k, surveying the dog proudly. As he did so, the animal, seeing himself noticed, walked up to d.i.c.k, and rubbed himself against the lad familiarly.

"He'll whip any dog in the neighbourhood," said Mr. Acres.

"And you'll give him to me?"

"Oh, yes. I've got too many dogs now."

"Here, Rover! Here, Rover! Here! Here! Here!" cried d.i.c.k in an animated tone, starting off. The dog followed quickly, and in a few moments both were out of sight.

"A smart chap that," remarked Mr. Acres to himself, as d.i.c.k bounded away. "He'll make something before he dies, I'll warrant."

The possession of the dog and half-dollar, especially the latter, were strongly objected to by d.i.c.k's mother.

"How could you, my son, think of robbing a poor bird of her little young ones?" said she seriously and reprovingly.

"But, mother, Mr. Acres wanted me to get him a bird, and of course I could not say 'no.' What would he have thought of me?"

"You never should do wrong for any one."

"But if it had been so very wrong, Mr. Acres never would have asked me to do it, I know," urged d.i.c.k.

Mrs. Lawson would have compelled her son to take back the money he had received, if almost any other person in the village but Mr. Acres had been concerned. But he was well off, and influential; and, moreover, was her landlord; and, though she was behindhand with her rent, he never took the trouble to ask for it. The dog, too, would have been sent back if any one but Mr. Acres had given it to her son. As it was, she contented herself with merely reprimanding d.i.c.k for robbing the bird's nest, and enjoining on him not to be guilty of so cruel an act again.

About three days after this event, d.i.c.k, accompanied by Rover--now his inseparable companion--met his young friend, Henry Jones, who had with him his father's large house-dog, Bose.

"Whose dog is that?" asked Henry.

"He's mine," replied d.i.c.k.

"Yours!"

"Be sure he is."

"Why that is Mr. Acres's Rover."

"Not now he isn't. Mr. Acres gave him to me."

"What did he give him to you for?"

"For getting him a young mocking-bird."

"I thought he promised you half-a-dollar?"

"So he did; and what is more, gave it to me, and Rover into the bargain."

"Well, I wouldn't have robbed a bird's nest for a dozen Rovers," said Henry Jones, warmly.

"Wouldn't you, indeed?" returned d.i.c.k, with a sneer.

"No, I would not. It's wicked."

"Oh, you're very pious! But Rover can whip your Bose, anyhow."

"No, he can't, though," replied Henry quickly, who could not bear to hear his father's faithful and favourite old dog's courage called in question.

"Yes, but he can, ten times a day. There, Rover! There, _sck!--sck!--sketch him_!" At the same time pus.h.i.+ng Rover against Bose.

Both dogs growled low, and showed their teeth, but that was all.

"Rover's afraid to touch him!" said Henry, a good deal excited.

"No, he is not, though!" returned d.i.c.k, his face glowing with interest; and, lifting up the forefeet of Rover, he threw him full against old Bose, who received the onset with a deep growl and a strong impression of his teeth on Rover.

This brought on the battle. Bose was nine or ten years old, and somewhat worn down by age and hard service, while Rover had numbered but two years, and was full of fire and vigor. Still the victory was not soon decided. During the fight, each of the boys entered into the spirit of the contest almost as much as the dogs. First one would interfere to secure for his favourite the victory, and then the other, until, at last, d.i.c.k struck Henry; and then they went at it likewise, and fought nearly as long, and certainly with as much desire to injure each other, as did the dogs themselves. The result was that both Henry and Bose had to yield, and then the parties separated, indulging against each other bitter and angry feelings. But with d.i.c.k there was an emotion of cruel delight at having triumphed over his friend. As he was crossing a field, on his way home, he met Mr. Acres.

"Why, what's the matter with you and Rover?" the farmer asked.