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Joe Wayring at Home/Chapter 3

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2235474Joe Wayring at Home — Chapter 3Harry Castlemon

CHAPTER III.

SOMETHING ABOUT TOM BIGDEN AND HIS COUSINS.


MOUNT AIRY, the village in which Joe Wayring and Roy Sheldon lived, was situated a few miles away from a large city which, for want of a better name, we will call New London. It was so far distant from the city that it could not properly be spoken of as one of its suburbs, and yet the railroad brought the village so near to it that a good many men who did business in New London, Joe's father and Roy's among the number, had their homes there. It was a veritable "hide and seek town". Sometimes, as you were approaching it on the cars, you would see it very plainly, and then again you wouldn't. It was nestled in among high mountains, and in the woods which covered them from base to summit could be found an abundance of small game, such as hares, squirrels and grouse, that afforded sport to the local Nimrods, and even received attention from the New London gunners. It was surrounded by a perfect network of babbling trout brooks, and there were several lakes and ponds in the vicinity in which some of the finest fish in the world awaited the lure of the skillful angler. And it required skill to take them, too. They were shy of strangers, and it wasn't every body who could go out in the morning and come back at night with a full creel.

Nor was larger game wanting to tempt the hunter who plumed himself on being a good shot with the rifle. Visitors standing upon the veranda of the principal hotel in the village had often heard wolves howling in the mountains, and on more than one occasion a deer had been seen standing on the opposite shore of Mirror Lake (it was generally called Wayring's Lake, because Joe's father owned the land on all sides of it), regarding with much curiosity the evidences of civilization that had sprung up on the other side. More than that, a bear was expected to make his appearance at least once every season; and when word was passed that he was in sight, what a hubbub it created among the visiting sportsmen! How prompt they were to seize their guns and run out after him, and how sure they were to come back empty-handed! Uncle Joe used to say that he believed the managers of the hotels would close their doors against the man who was lucky enough to shoot that bear, for unless Bruin had a companion to take his place, his death would spoil their advertisements. For years the proprietor of the Mount Airy House had been accustomed to tell the public, through the New London papers, that bear could be seen from the piazza of his hotel, and the announcement had brought him many a dollar from sportsmen who came from all parts of the country to shoot that bear. Why didn't Uncle Joe shoot him? He owned the hotel.

We have said that Mount Airy was acquiring some fame as a watering-place; but that must not lead you to infer that it was like other places of resort—lively enough in summer, but very dull in winter, for such was by no means the case. The village was lively at all seasons of the year. Of course there were many more people there in summer than there were in winter, for during warm weather the hotels and all the boarding houses were crowded with visitors, and so were the cottages on the other side of the lake; but when these visitors went away, the citizens did not hibernate like so many woodchucks and wait for them to come back, because they were not dependent upon tourists either for their livelihood or for means of entertainment. Strangers were astonished when they found what a driving, go-ahead sort of people they were. They were proud of their village, of its churches, its hotels, its fine private residences, and its high-school was so well and favorably known that it attracted students from all parts of the country. It could boast of an efficient fire department, composed of all the leading men in town (the ministers and teachers, to a man, belonged to it), a military company which formed a part of the National Guard of the State, and a band of archers known as the Mount Airy Toxophilites. We ought, rather, to say that there were two bands of archers, one being composed of boys and girls, and the other of their fathers, mothers and older brothers and sisters. They were both uniformed, but the boy members of the Toxophilites were the only ones who ever paraded.

It was worth a long journey to see these forty young archers turn out and march through the streets to the music of the band. They looked as neat in their green and white suits, with short top boots, and black hats turned up at one side and fastened with a black feather, as the military company did in their blue uniforms and white helmets: and as for their marching, it was nearly perfect. They had a manual of arms which originated with Uncle Joe, who, for more than a year, acted as their instructor and drill-master. They were governed by a constitution and by-laws, and fines were imposed upon those who did not turn out regularly to the drills and parades. They had shooting matches at which prizes were distributed, also a grand annual hunt, followed by a dinner that was equally grand; and every year some of the boys spent a week or two camping in the mountains, taking bows and arrows with them instead of guns. A good many of the young archers were very fine shots with these novel weapons, and there were about half a dozen of them, of whom Joe and Roy made two, who stood ready at any time to meet an equal number of riflemen at the trap, the archers shooting at twelve yards rise and the riflemen at twenty.

On the morning of July 4, 18—, a large party of newly-arrived visitors were seated on the wide veranda of the Mount Airy House, enjoying the refreshing breeze that came to them from over the lake, and congratulating themselves on having left the city, with all its dust, heat and noise, behind them for one good long month at least. Some of these visitors had never been there before, and consequently they knew little or nothing about the village and its inhabitants. Among these were Tom Bigden and his two cousins, Ralph and Loren Farnsworth, who were leaning over the railing, fanning their flushed faces with their hats, and wondering how in the world they were going to put in four weeks' time in that desolate town. They were city boys, any body could see that, and they were disappointed, and angry as well, because their parents had not decided to spend a portion of the summer at some place convenient to salt water, so that they could enjoy a dip in the surf now and then.

"I see a boat down there," observed Loren. "I wonder if we could hire it for an hour or two I think I should like to take a sail on that lake, it looks so cool and inviting."

"Humph!" exclaimed Tom. "I'd much rather take a run up to Newport or over to Greenbush in my father's yacht."

"I wouldn't," answered Loren. "I can go down to the Sound any day, but a gem of a lake like this is something I haven't feasted my eyes upon in a long time. I am going to see if I can hire a boat; and after I get tired of sailing around in her, I'm going to lie to under the shade of some tree that hangs over the water, and be as lazy as I know how. That's what I came up here for."

"Boom!" said a field-piece, from some distant part of the village.

"What was that?" exclaimed Ralph. "A cannon?"

"Naw," replied Tom, in a tone which implied that he had no patience with any one who could ask such a question. "What would a cannon be doing up here in the woods? Do you think these greenhorns are going to try to get up a celebration for our benefit?"

"No, I don't; but they've got up one for their own. Do you hear that?" answered Ralph, as the warning roll of a drum, followed by the music of a band, rang out on the air. "The procession, or whatever it is, is coming this way, too. Now I shall expect to see something that will eclipse any thing New London ever thought of getting up."

It wasn't a celebration; it was only the annual review of the Mount Airy fire department, which was always held on the Fourth of July. Ralph and his cousins were fully prepared to make all sorts of fun of it, but when the head of the procession came into view around the corner of the street below, they were so surprised at the size of it that they had not a word to say. It took up the whole width of the street, and that it was determined to have all the room it wanted, was made plain by the actions of a couple of mounted policemen who rode in front to clear the way.

"That's good marching, boys," said Loren, who had seen so much of it in New London that he thought himself qualified to judge. "It is a very creditable display for so small a place as this."

"Every body seems to think it's going to be something grand," sneered Tom, who was really amazed at the rapidity with which the spacious veranda was filled by the guests, who came pouring out of the wide doors in a steady stream.

"Why, there's a military company in line with the firemen—two of them," exclaimed Ralph.

"Visiting companies, no doubt," said Tom, "and that's what makes every one so anxious to see them."

"There's where you are wrong, Tom," said Mr. Farnsworth, who, approaching them unobserved, had heard every word of their conversation. "You never saw a parade just like this, and I don't believe you will ever see another unless your father and I carry out some plans we have been talking about, and come up here to live."

"To live?" echoed Tom.

"Up here in the woods?" cried Ralph.

"Among all these country greenhorns!" chimed in Loren.

"You will find very few country greenhorns in Mount Airy," said Mr. Farnsworth, with a laugh. "Why, boys, those fire companies represent millions of New London's business capital."

"Oh!" said Tom.

"Ah!" said Ralph.

"That makes the thing look different," added Loren. "I supposed that they were made up of the same material we used to find in the old volunteer organizations."

"By no means. They are all rich and intelligent men. They own valuable property here, and by taking an interest in their fire department, they get their insurance at much lower rates than we do in the city."

The near approach of the column put a stop to the conversation. First came the drum-major, a big six-footer, with a high bear-skin cap, which made him look a great deal taller than he really was, and behind him the band, which discoursed as fine music as any body wanted to hear. Then came the hook and ladder company, two hundred strong, marching four abreast and drawing their heavy truck after them without the least apparent exertion. Next came a steam fire engine, drawn by men instead of horses, after that a hose cart, followed by a small company of about twenty young fellows in black dress-coats and white trowsers and caps, who pulled along something that looked like a skeleton road wagon, loaded with Babcock fire extinguishers.

"That's a little the queerest looking turn-out I ever saw," Tom remarked. "They couldn't do any thing toward putting out a fire. I suppose they are more for show than any thing else."

"Wrong again," said Mr. Farnsworth. "They have done good work, and the citizens, in recognition of their services, presented them with money enough to build an engine house for themselves, and furnish it in fine style."

Next came the soldiers, veterans, every one of them, and behind them a company of oddly uniformed youngsters, whose movements were governed by the blast of a bugle instead of the word of command. They must have been the ones the guests were waiting for, for when they came in sight, and, following the movements of the military company, executed the maneuver: "Platoons right front into line," which they did with as much soldier-like precision as the veterans themselves, the gentlemen on the veranda cheered them lustily, while the ladies waved their handkerchiefs and bombarded the ranks with bouquets, which were deftly caught by the boys, and impaled upon the ends of their long bows.

"Now, then, can any body tell me who and what those fellows are?" exclaimed Ralph.

"They are the Mount Airy Toxophilites," replied Mr. Farnsworth.

"Lovers of a bow or arrow," said Ralph, who was well up in his Greek. "What do they do?"

"Oh, they have regular shooting-matches, drills and parades, and now and then a hunt and a camp in the woods."

"They can't hit any thing with those bows, of course."

"Yes, I believe they can," replied Mr. Farnsworth. "I am told that when they go on a hunt, they are as sure of coming back full-handed as those who use guns. After passing in review before the trustees, they are to have a drill in the park. I see that a good many of the guests are getting ready to go down, and if you would like to see it, we will go also."

Tom and his cousins 'had found reason to change some of their opinions during the last few minutes, and that was just what Mr. Farnsworth desired. He had talked with that very end in view—to make them see that New London was not the only place in the world in which boys could enjoy themselves, and to prepare them for the change which he and his brother-in-law, Tom's father, intended to make that very summer. They were anxious to get their boys away from New London, for it was full of temptations which Tom and his cousins found it hard to resist. They were learning to think more of billiards than they did of their books, and they had even been known to roll ten-pins for soda water. Soda water wasn't hurtful, and neither were ten-pins nor billiards; but the conditions under which the one was imbibed and the others played certainly were. In Mount Airy there was none of that sort of thing. Of course there were billiard rooms and ten-pin alleys there, but they belonged to the hotels, and were kept for the exclusive use of the guests. The men who had just marched up the street owned all the land for miles around, and they would not sell a foot of it. They were willing to lease it for a term of years, but before they did so, they wanted to know all about the man who applied for the lease, and the business he intended to follow while he remained in town. In that way they made the society of the village just what they wanted it to be. It is true that some objectionable characters now and then secured a temporary foothold there, but as soon as they were detected, they were "bounced" without ceremony.

Mr. Farnsworth and Mr. Bigden thought Mount Airy would be just the place for their boys, but the latter would have raised the most decided objections if the subject of a change of residence had been broached to them before they witnessed that parade, and learned something about the men and boys who composed it.

"I'll tell you what's a fact!" said Tom, as he and his cousins walked with Mr. Farnsworth toward the park where the drill was to be held. "Uncle Alfred was right when he said that we would not find many country bumpkins here. Those bowmen must have lots of fun. Do you and father really intend to come here to live?" he added, turning to Mr. Farnsworth.

"We have been thinking and talking about it for a long time," was the answer.

"All right. I am in favor of it," said Tom. "I wonder if we could get into that company of archers!"

"Of course we could," said Loren.

"There's no 'of course' about it," answered his father. "You would be balloted for the same as the rest; and I have been told that one black-ball would keep you out for a year."

"Humph!" exclaimed Tom. "They wouldn't black-ball us. I guess our folks have just as much money as any body here."

"No, they haven't; and even if they had, it would make no sort of difference. Money doesn't rule the world up here as it does down in New London. I am informed that some of the boys in that company are so poor that the others had to help them buy their uniforms."

"Humph!" said Tom. "Well, if that's the sort of trash they take into their company, I don't know that I care to belong to it, do you, boys? We don't have any thing to do with such fellows in the city."

"Couldn't we gradually weed them out?" asked Loren. "That's the way we did with our ball club, you know."

"Yes, and what was the consequence?" demanded his father. "You 'weeded out' your very best players, and you have been beaten by every club you have met since. Served you right, too."

"Well, I would rather be beaten than be chums with fellows who were too mean to chip in two or three dollars when we wanted to get up a dinner," observed Loren.

"They were not too mean; they couldn't do it. The two or three dollars that you speak of so lightly, were a large sum in the eyes of boys whose fathers gain a livelihood by working by the day, and you ought to have exercised a little common sense in your dealings with them. If it were necessary that you should have the dinner or starve, why did you not pay for it yourselves, and not ask those poor boys to 'chip in', as you term it? There's the high school," said Mr. Farnsworth, pointing with his cane to an imposing building, standing in the midst of extensive and well-kept grounds which occupied one whole block of the village property.

"That's my great objection to Mount Airy," said Ralph, shaking his fist at the school house. "Our teacher told us one day last term that the binomial theorem is just the same in China and Brazil that it is in New London, so I suppose it must be the same up here. Fine scenery around a school house doesn't make the lessons inside any easier."

"You're right there," growled Tom, who was thinking of those Orations of Cicero to which he would have to devote his attention next term, "I'd much rather go fishing."

The boys reached the park long before the procession did, and took up a position near the pagoda in which the president of the village and the trustees were to stand while the line passed in review. When it arrived, the band led the way around the park until it met the advancing column; then it turned inside of it and went around again, and thus the whole line, with the exception of the Toxophilites, was wound up like a coil. The archers kept straight ahead, the boys in the ranks carrying arms, and the captain saluting by bringing his bow to a position that somewhat resembled the "secure arms" of the tactics, until they reached a clear space at the other end of the park which had been reserved on purpose for them. There they halted, and, when the firemen had broken ranks, and the soldiers had been brought to parade rest, their commanding officer put them through the manual of arms and some intricate evolutions in the school of the company, giving his orders to the bugler who stood beside him, and not to the company itself. Ralph and Loren were delighted with every thing they saw, and had many words of praise to bestow upon the young bowmen; but Tom was silent and sullen. He didn't like to hear so much cheering when none of it was intended for him. When he was engaged in a game of ball he always flew into a passion if he made an error, or if any of the other side made a play that called forth applause from the spectators. He was angry now; but it would have puzzled a sensible boy to tell what reason he had for it.

"That captain, or whatever you call him—" began Loren.

"Master bowman," said his father.

"Well, he is a nobby fellow, and that bugler looks gorgeous in his green uniform with its white facings," continued Loren. "I wonder who they are, any way?"

"Why don't you go and inquire?" asked Mr. Farnsworth.

"They wouldn't speak to you," snarled Tom. "They're little upstarts; I can tell that from here by the frills they throw on."

Loren and his brother didn't care if they were. The signs seemed to indicate that they were coming to Mount Airy to live, and if that was the case, they wanted to know something about the boys they would have for their associates. So as soon as the drill was brought to an end and the ranks were broken, they set out to scrape an acquaintance with the master bowman and bugler, Tom following them with rather a listless, indifferent air. But in reality he was as eager as his cousins were. Would he not be willing to give something handsome if he could make himself the leader of a select band like that?