Part 6

6. Next comes a class in arithmetic. These boys are to be the merchants, shopkeepers, and mechanics of a future period. Hitherto they have traded only in marbles and apples. Others will upheave the blacksmith's hammer, or drive the plane over the carpenter's bench, or take the lapstone and the awl, and learn the trade of shoemaking. Many will follow the sea, and become bold, rough sea-captains. Wherefore, teach them their multiplication-table, good Master Cheever, and whip them well when they deserve it; for much of the country's welfare depends on these boys.

7. But, alas! Master Cheever's watchful eye has caught two boys at play. Now we shall see awful times. The malefactors are summoned before the master's chair. Master Cheever has taken down that terrible birch-rod! Short is the trial--the sentence quickly passed--and now the judge prepares to execute it in person. Thwack! thwack! thwack! In those good old times a schoolmaster's blows were well laid on. And thus the forenoon passes away. Now it is twelve o'clock. The master looks at his great silver watch, and then, with tiresome deliberation, puts the ferule into the desk. "You are dismissed," says Master Cheever.

8. The boys retire, treading softly until they have passed the threshold; but fairly out of the school-room lo, what a joyous shout! What a scampering and trampling of feet! What care they for the ferule and birch-rod now? Were boys created merely to study Latin and arithmetic? No; the better purposes of their being are to sport, to leap, to run, to shout, to slide upon the ice, to snow-ball. Happy boys! Enjoy your play-time now, and come again to study and to feel the birch-rod and the ferule to-morrow.

9. Now the master has set everything to rights, and is ready to go home to dinner. Yet he goes reluctantly. The old man has spent so much of his life in the smoky, noisy, buzzing school-room, that, when he has a holiday, he feels as if his place were lost, and himself a stranger in the World.

_Hawthorne._

_XXXV.--STORY OF FRANKLIN'S KITE._

1. It was in the spring of 1752 that Franklin thought of trying the experiment with a kite; and it was during one of the June thunder-storms of that year that the immortal kite was flown.

2. Who does not know the story? How he made his kite of a large silk handkerchief, and fastened to the top of the perpendicular stick a piece of sharpened iron wire. How he stole away, upon the approach of a storm, into the common not far from his own house, say about the corner of Race and Eighth Streets, near a spot where there was an old cow-shed. How, wishing to avoid the ridicule of possible failure, he told no one what he was going to do, except his son, who accompanied him, and who was then not the small boy he is represented in a hundred pictures, but a braw lad of twenty-two, one of the beaux of Philadelphia.

3. How the kite was raised in time for the coming gust, the string being hempen, except the part held in the hand, which was silk. How, at the termination of the hempen string, a common key was fastened; and in the shed was deposited a Leyden bottle, in which to collect from the clouds, if the clouds should contain it, the material requisite for an electric shock. How father and son stood for some time under the shed, presenting the spectacle, if there had been any one to behold it, of two escaped lunatics, flying a kite in the rain; the young gentleman, no doubt, feeling a little foolish. How, at last, when a thunder-cloud appeared to pass directly over the kite, and yet no sign of electricity appeared the hopes of the father, too, began to grow faint. How, when both were ready to despair of success, Franklin's heart stood still as he suddenly observed the fibers of the hempen string to rise, as a boy's hair rises when he stands on the insulating-stool. How, with eager, trembling hand, he applied his knuckle to the key, and drew therefrom an unmistakable spark, and another and another, and as many as he chose. How the Leyden vial was charged, and both received the most thrilling shock ever experienced by man; a shock that might have been figuratively styled electric, if electric it had not really been. How, the wet kite being drawn in, and the apparatus packed, the philosopher went home exulting, the happiest philosopher in Christendom.

4. And this was only the beginning of triumph. The next ships that arrived from the Old World brought him the news that the same experiment, in the mode originally suggested by him, of erecting an iron rod upon an eminence, had been successfully performed in France, so that his name had suddenly become one of the most famous in Europe.

_XXXVI.--THE CASE OF JOHN HOOK._

1. Wirt, in his life of Patrick Henry, gives this specimen of the eloquence of the great orator. In Campbell County, Virginia, lived a Scotchman, named Hook, who was suspected of being a Tory. The American army was greatly distressed for food, and a commissary, named Venable, took two of Hook's steers, without his consent, to feed the starving soldiers. After the war, a lawyer, named Cowan, advised Hook to sue Venable for trespass. Venable employed Patrick Henry. The case was tried in the old court-house in New London.

2. Mr. Henry depicted the distress of the American army in the most gloomy colors, and then asked: "Where was the man with an American heart, who would not have thrown open his fields, his barns, his cellars, the doors of his house, the portals of his breast, to have received with open arms the meanest soldier of that little band of famished patriots? Where is the man? There he stands; but whether the heart of an American beats in his bosom, you, gentlemen, are to judge?" He then carried the jury, by the powers of his imagination, to the plains around York, the surrender of which had followed shortly after the act complained of.

3. He depicted the surrender in the most glowing and noble colors of his eloquence. The audience saw before their eyes the dejection of the British as they marched out of the trenches; they saw the triumph which lighted up every patriotic face, and heard the shouts of victory and the cry of "Washington and liberty!" as it rang through the American ranks and echoed back from hill and shore. "But hark! what notes of discord are these which disturb the general joy? They are notes of John Hook, hoarsely bawling through the American camp, '_Beef! beef! beef!_'"

4. The whole audience was convulsed. The clerk of the court, unable to contain himself, and unwilling to disturb the court, rushed out of the court-house and threw himself on the grass in the most violent paroxysm of laughter, where he was rolling when Hook, with very different feelings, came out into the yard for relief also. "Jemmy Steptoe," he said to the clerk, "what ails ye, mon?" Mr. Steptoe was only able to say that he could not help it. "Never mind ye," said Hook; "wait till Billy Cowan gets up; he'll show him the la'!" But Mr. Cowan could scarcely utter a word. The jury instantly returned a verdict against Hook. The people were highly excited, and Hook was obliged to leave the county to avoid a coat of tar and feathers.

_XXXVII.--THE FIRST STEAMBOAT IN THE WEST._

1. Many things combined to make the year 1811 the wonderful year of the West. During the earlier months, the waters of many of the great rivers overflowed their banks, so that the whole country was covered from bluff to bluff. Widespread sickness followed, such as had never before been known. A spirit of change and uneasiness seemed to seize the very inhabitants of the forest. A countless multitude of squirrels, obeying some great and universal impulse, left their joyous, gamboling life and their ancient retreats in the North, and were seen pressing forward by tens of thousands in a deep and sober phalanx to the South. No obstacles seemed to check this extraordinary and united movement. The word had been given them to go forth, and they obeyed it, though multitudes perished in the broad Ohio, which lay in their path.

2. The splendid comet of that year long continued to shed its twilight over the forests. As the autumn drew to a close, the whole Mississippi Valley, from the Missouri to the Gulf, was shaken to its center by continued earthquakes. It was at this very time, when so many extraordinary events of Nature combined to spread wonder and awe, that the first steamboat was seen descending the great rivers, and the awe-struck Indian on the banks beheld the Pinelore, or "fire-canoe," flying through the turbid waters.

3. The banks of the Ohio and its tributaries were covered with innumerable farms; and rafts, flat-boats, and barges of every description, laden with the produce, floated upon its wide surface, toward the general market of the West, New Orleans. Besides the barges and vessels of heavy burden, which made their long annual voyage to and from the city, the river was covered, particularly in time of flood, by thousands of queer machines, for boats they can hardly be called, most of which soon disappeared. From seventy to eighty days were consumed in thus effecting the long and monotonous voyage from Pittsburg to New Orleans.

4. The experiments in steam navigation made on the Hudson River and adjoining waters, previous to the year 1809, were attended with complete success. Attention was now paid to the Western rivers, and Mr. Roosevelt, of New York, accompanied by Mr. Fulton, visited these rivers to see whether they would admit of steam navigation. At this time two boats, the North River and the Clermont, were running on the Hudson. Mr. Roosevelt surveyed the rivers from Pittsburg to New Orleans, and made a favorable report, and it was decided to build a boat at the former town.

5. Accordingly, during the year 1811 the first boat was launched on the waters of the Ohio. It was called the Orleans, and was intended to ply between Natchez, in the State of Mississippi, and the city whose name it bore. In October it left Pittsburg for a trial voyage. No freight or passengers were taken. Mr. Roosevelt with his family; Mr. Baker, the engineer; Andrew Jack, the pilot; and six hands, with a few domestics, formed her whole burden. There were no wood-yards at that time, and constant delays were unavoidable.

6. Late at night on the fourth day after quitting Pittsburg, they arrived safely at Louisville, having been but seventy hours descending upward of seven hundred miles. The novel appearance of the vessel, and the fearful rapidity with which it made its passage over the broad reaches of the river, excited both terror and surprise among many of the settlers along the banks, whom the rumor of such an invention had never reached.

7. The unexpected arrival of the boat at Louisville, in the course of a fine, still, moonlight night, created a great stir. The extraordinary sound which filled the air as the pent-up steam was suffered to escape on rounding to, produced a general alarm, and multitudes in the town rose from their beds to see what was the matter. It was related that an impression widely prevailed that the comet had fallen into the Ohio.

8. The low stage of water caused a detention at Louisville until the last week in November, when the voyage was resumed. When the boat arrived at a point five miles above the Yellow Banks, she was moored to take in wood. While thus engaged, our voyagers were accosted in great alarm by the squatters of the neighborhood, who inquired if they had heard strange noises on the river and in the woods on the preceding day, or had seen the shores shake.

9. Hitherto nothing extraordinary had been perceived. The following day they pursued their monotonous voyage in those vast solitudes. The air was misty, still, and dull. Though the sun was visible, like a glowing ball of copper, his rays hardly shed more than a mournful twilight on the surface of the water. Evening drew nigh, and with it some indications of what was passing around them became evident. And as they sat on deck, they ever and anon heard a rushing sound and violent splash, and saw large portions of the shore tearing away from the land and falling into the river.

10. It was, as my informant said, "an awful day, so still that you could have heard a pin drop on the deck." They spoke little, for every one on board appeared thunderstruck. The comet had disappeared about this time, which circumstance was noticed with awe by the crew. The trees were seen waving and nodding on the bank without a wind. Toward evening of the second day they found themselves at a loss for a place of shelter. The pilot said that he was lost; that the channel was everywhere altered. A large island in mid-channel familiar to the pilot was sought in vain, having entirely disappeared.

11. Thus in doubt and terror, they proceeded hour after hour till dark, when they found a small island and rounded-to. Here they lay, keeping watch on deck during the long autumnal night, and listening to the sound of the roaring waters. Several times in the course of the night earthquake-shocks were felt. It was a long night, but morning dawned and showed them that they were near the mouth of the Ohio.

12. About noon that day they reached the small town of New Madrid, on the right bank of the Mississippi. Here they found the inhabitants in the greatest distress and consternation. Part of the population had fled in terror to the higher grounds; others prayed to be taken on board, as the earth was opening in fissures on every side, and their houses hourly falling around them.

13. At that time you floated for three or four hundred miles on the rivers without seeing a human habitation. Proceeding from New Madrid, after many days of great danger, they reached their destination at Natchez in January, 1812, to the great astonishment of all, the escape of the boat having been considered an impossibility.

_XXXVIII.--THE POWER OF KINDNESS._

1. William Savery was a Quaker, living near Philadelphia, during the Revolutionary War. He was a kindly-disposed man, and many were his charitable deeds that the public knew nothing about. He was a tanner by trade, and one night a number of hides were stolen from his yard. While he suspected a neighbor of his, a worthless sort of fellow, he had no proof against him. He said nothing about his loss, but the next day the following advertisement appeared in the papers:

2. "Whoever stole a lot of hides on the 5th of the present month, is hereby informed that the owner has a sincere wish to be his friend. If poverty tempted him to this false step, the owner will keep the whole matter secret, and will gladly put him in the way of obtaining a living by means more likely to bring him peace of mind."

3. This odd notice attracted a good deal of attention; but the thief alone knew from whom the kind offer came. When he read it, his heart was filled with sorrow for what he had done. A few nights afterward, as the tanner's family were about going to bed, they heard a timid knock; and, when the door opened, there stood Smith, with the hides on his shoulder. Without looking up, he said: "I have brought these back, Mr. Savery. Where shall I put them?"

4. "Wait till I can light a lantern, and I will go to the barn with thee," replied Mr. Savery. "Then, perhaps, thou wilt come in and tell me how this thing happened, and we will see what can be done for thee."

5. As soon as they were gone out, his wife prepared some hot coffee, and placed pies and meat on the table. When they returned from the barn, she said, "Neighbor Smith, I thought some hot supper would do thee good." Smith turned his back toward her, and did not speak. After a moment, he said in a choked voice: "It is the first time I ever stole anything, and I feel very bad about it. I don't know how it is. I am sure I didn't think once that I should ever come to be what I am. But I took to drinking, and then to quarreling. And since I began to go down-hill, everybody gives me a kick. You are the first man, Mr. Savery, that has ever offered me a helping hand. God bless you! I stole the hides from you, meaning to sell them. But I tell you the truth, when I say it is the first time I was ever a thief."

6. "Let it be the last time, my friend," replied William Savery. "The secret shall be between me and thee. Thou art still young. Promise me that thou will not drink any more liquor for a year, and I will employ thee to-morrow at good wages. Perhaps we may find some work for thy family also. The little boy can at least pick up stones. But eat a bit now, and drink some hot coffee, to keep thee from craving anything stronger. Keep up a brave heart for the sake of thy wife and children. When thou hast need of coffee, tell Mary, and she will always give it to thee."

7. The poor fellow tried hard to eat and drink, but the food seemed to choke him. He could not smother his feelings, and he bowed his head on the table and wept like a child. By-and-by he ate and drank with good heart; and his host parted with him for the night with this kindly word, "Try to do well, John, and thou wilt always find a friend in me."

8. Smith began to work for him the next day, and remained with him many years, a sober, honest, and faithful man. The secret of the theft was kept between them; but, after John's death, William Savery told the story, to show that evil may be overcome with good.

_XXXIX.--OLD IRONSIDES._

1. When war was declared between the United States and Great Britain in 1812, the British power was dominant upon the ocean. Since the times of Sir Francis Drake and the Spanish Armada, the British navy had retained the supremacy then gained. In three hundred years no British fleet had ever surrendered to an enemy. Such continued success made the British arrogant, and they looked down with contempt upon the naval power of any other people. At the beginning of the war, the American navy was small and weak. It consisted of about twenty vessels, the largest of which were frigates.

2. But the few vessels of the American navy were strongly built, and were manned by officers who had gained their fighting experience in the war with the Barbary states. Neither the officers nor men were in any fear of the great power of Britain, and they particularly hated the British for their habit of impressing American seamen. Thus it happened that all the American commanders had made up their minds to fight whenever the force against them was any where nearly equal, and to fight for victory.

3. Among the vessels of our little navy was the frigate Constitution, better known, from the strength of her build, as "Old Ironsides." At the breaking out of the war she was commanded by Captain Isaac Hull, one of our most experienced naval officers. In August, 1812, Hull sailed on a cruise, looking for an enemy, and in a short time he fell in with the British frigate Guerriere, a vessel about equal in size to the Constitution. Both parties advanced eagerly to the conflict, but in thirty minutes the Guerriere was reduced to a mere wreck, and the British flag was hauled down.

4. Captain Hull sailed into Boston Harbor, where the Old Ironsides was repaired and made ready for sea. Captain Hull generously resigned, so as to permit others to have a share of glory, and Captain Bainbridge was appointed to the command of the Constitution.

5. On December 29th, Captain Bainbridge, while cruising off the coast of Brazil, encountered the British frigate Java, one of the best-appointed ships in the British navy. A running battle ensued, which lasted four hours, and so well did Captain Bainbridge manage his ship that he reduced the Java to a wreck, while the damage to the Constitution was so slight that it was ready for another fight the next day.

6. Peace between the two countries was arranged at Ghent, between commissioners appointed by both powers, in December, 1814, but the news was not received in this country for several weeks. The Constitution, under the command of Captain Stewart, sailed from Boston on a cruise in December, and, on the 20th of February, 1815, she encountered two British vessels--the Cyane and Levant--the combined force of which was equal to that of the Constitution, if not greater. The action commenced at six in the evening, and continued for four hours in the moonlight night. At ten o'clock, both British vessels were prizes to the Constitution, while she was so little damaged that complete repairs were made without making a port.

7. After the war great improvements were made in ship-building, and soon the old frigate became too old-fashioned for active service at sea, and for a time she was employed as a receiving-ship. At last it was proposed to withdraw her entirely from service, and break her up. This proposition roused the indignation of the poet Holmes, then a boy, and his hot wrath broke up the project and saved the ship. She is now used as a school-ship for the training of seamen. Here follows the poem:

8. Ay! tear her tattered ensign down! Long has it waved on high; And many an eye has danced to see That banner in the sky. Beneath it rang the battle-shout, And burst the cannon's roar; The meteor of the ocean-air Shall sweep the clouds no more!

9. Her deck, once red with hero's blood, Where knelt the vanquished foe, When winds were hurrying o'er the flood, And waves were white below, No more shall feel the victor's tread Or know the conquered knee; The harpies of the shore shall pluck The eagle of the sea.

10. Oh! better that her shattered hulk Should sink beneath the wave; Her home was on the mighty deep, And there should be her grave. Nail to the mast her holy flag, Set every threadbare sail, And give her to the god of storms, The lightning and the gale!

_XL.--CHICAGO._

1. It is the evening of October 9, 1871. The great city of the West is settling down into the quiet of the night. The Sabbath has ended. The churches have closed, and citizens of all ranks and kinds are peacefully resting in their homes. The guardians of the night are all out, faithful to watch, quick to detect, and prompt to act. Three hundred thousand people throw off the cares of the day, and seek their needed repose. No cause of alarm, save the wind, which since noon has risen from a gentle breeze to a fierce gale at sunset. Even now it increases, and in the morning papers we may expect a catalogue of chimneys blown down, and of houses unroofed. Beyond this there is nothing to fear, and all is well.

2. A little way out from what is now the heart of the town was a section covered with piles of lumber and rows of wooden tenements ready for the torch. The lights are flickering through the dark alleys as a poor woman takes a lamp and goes into a hovel to milk the cow. The blustering wind bids her be careful. An uneasy movement of the cow, and the lamp is overturned into the straw and litter of the stable. A flame shoots up, and the milker has scarcely time to reach the door when the whole building is on fire. She, with her children, rush into the street, as the flame comes in through roof, window, and doorway of her dwelling. Then the roar of the wind-swept flame and the appalling cry of fire!

3. But the city is prepared for these accidents. The fire-bells ring out their alarm. Trained horses take their places by the steam fire-engines, and the heart has scarcely time to beat before they are on a mad gallop down the streets. In a moment a thousand jets of water will subdue the fire, and the city will again sink to quiet rest.