THE POWER OF A BELIEF.

Gisborne Times, Volume XXVII, Issue 2401, 16 January 1909, Page 12 (Supplement)

THE POWER OF A BELIEF.

(By Alta Brunt Sembower.)

Jack was unusually snail-like about going to school that morning. It was not, however, as the poets, have it, his feet that were reluctant. Indeed, if long habit bad not kept them steady in the direction of tlio school-Lv. use Jack’s spirit -would have run away with them a- dozen times into the wilderness. It was not that the wilderness—to wit, Pike’s Woods —was specially green and inviting, with the tips of its branches waving over the hill at the edge of the village. It was not that the list of problems on liis slate was long and unsolved, nor that today marked off only half of the week which ho was condemned to spend in exilo on the “front seat.” It was none of these inevitable anti everlasting trials would go to make up tho cynicism of boyhood that was troubling Jack. It was a matter more personal and more lively in interest. Jack was down for ail affair of honor at tho morning “recess,” and there were attendant circumstances which required pondering about. Jack, like the true soldier, was going to battle with a fear in his heart. He passed the little boys in the school yard without his usual signs of condescen-. sion, and only remembered his position as head of the second floor in time to perform a few gymnastics on the stairs for the benefit of one small -admirer who had followed him inside. He lmug up his cap in tho cloak-room with a precision vainly sought for by home training, and produced mainly bv tlie inducement of sorao other boy s hat on the highest nail, inviting disturbance. Finally, after some litt.e shuffling at the door and a loud “hem” or two to Billy Boyd on the back row, Jack walked in with a c»uo~ ful swagger designed to show his extreme indifference to his seat near the throne. Before reaching it he had time for a quick survey of the room. Among the apparently unnoted things there was a swift picture of Mirabel Gray’s black braids dangling in the .aisle, and the head attached to them very near another head, sleek, -well ■ combed, and boyish both bent together intently over a book. For the first time since his challenge of the day before Jack longed for the, hour to draw nigh. Jack’s appointment was the outgrowth of a sentiment, and as such was of interest to the whole community. It was not that the antngonist-to-bo was a new boy. That was a matter that couldn’t be helped, and after a few encounters with individual boys could be set right. But when the new boy came in with such heavy odds on his side, with a shield as it were, which protected him from even wordy blows—much less a contest to see whose fists were best then all Cloverly Village put on its thinkingcap. The new boy was an Orphan. Now, in Cloverly Village—perhaps m all the boy-world there is something of the feeling —the hoys had a superstition about orphans. D ie l a -" thought of the word with a big 0, and they spread the news the night of the. arrival with the anno preparations .:.t defence that would 'nave hailed the coming of a genuine Fiji-Islaudor with all his tribal tricks of war. The savage, Indeed, would have been more acceptable, for-at least one might lilt him back. But the law of the boyworld said that a fellow must endure all things —nearly—from an orphan. Perhaps the feeling was due to pii; vatc Biblical lectures given by big sisters or maiden aunts, or to the inheritance of the influence of many thousand such lectures given by big sisters or maiden aunts to generations of boys long gone-lectures pooh-pooh-ed at the time of their giving, but pondered upon secretly afterwards and handed down to the next generation of hoys in the form of a little stronger instinctive tendency to avoid laying hands on an orphan. At any rate, the feeling was there, and the boys stood aroof, sparing the rod, but taking out the wickedness of thennatures by hating the Orphan healthy for misdemeanors and misfortunes, alike. Such a hatred is uncomfortable for the victim of it, of combe, but it doesn’t actively interfere "dhbusiness. It doesn’t take the new hoy long to find out his advantage, and the result is easily seen Vhat boy stops to question whethei reign comes by the gift of Ins fellows or by force of arms? He simply caries things with a high hand and i he proves a good ruler and a good fellow, after all, he mny even come to keep his rule by common consent. Such things, however, happen laiely. Cloverly Village had been amouldeiing for some timeN An orphan is bad enough in being just that, hut when he has sleek light hair and meek blue eyes and is kept well brushed and supplied with apples by the deacon s wife, whom ho has come to live with, he adds a drop or two more of bitterness to. the boy’s cup of dislike. And when he shows himself capable of eating one apple with another in Ins hand 1n the midst of a hungry crowd, and kicks little Johnnie .Black for; trying to get a bite, it is time to interfere. And when his face comes to be notorious for the many shapes it can assume iu contompt of Jus subjects, it seems to be necessary to do something to change the expression of that face. When a hoy has Jill theso elements in duo proportions mixed up in him, then is he an orphan indeed. Jack in the midst of all this had rather ignored the new boy, and had

gone on despising'him in silence—the spirit of lii.s fathers being strong within him to keep his hand .from against tho tormentor. But on Tuesday afternoon —a particularly unfortunate day for Jack, and -the time of his humiliation by that incidental and temporal authority, the teacher—ho had chanced to see, by tho aid of tho little looking-glass which .enabled him to sec Mirabel Gray without looking round, the same fickle damsel accepting with thanks the .gift of a. new slate-pencil topped with the half of j chunk of candy. The other half had been carefully bitten off and the rest presented by the hand of the new boy Willie Perkins. That put a new light on things, and a few minutes later when ho saw the new boy throw a paper ball at the smallest boy in the room Jack’s soul rose in righteous indignation against such tyranny. It should hot go on. After some deliberation, in which he reflected bitterly that the teacher’s decree that he must “stay in after school” would prevent a speedy reckoning, lie wrote a-note saying:

“Will you pleas mete me on the other side of tlie church to-morrow at recess f “Yours truly, “JACK GRESHAM. “T.S. It is a fight.”

“Choose your weapons” looked well on the paper, but he reflected tb.it some newly imported ideas of the newcomer might make the thing too literal, and lie wanted to use his fists. With some difficulty under the teacher’s eyes he started the note oil its backward course and waited for a reply. There was no formal one, but an astonished nod from tho challenged one was ;ntisfactory, and in five minutes the news had buzzed over tho room that Jack Gresham was “goin’ to lick the Orphan.” There was some rejoicing among the smaller hoys, but tlie older and conservative oi.es were oppressed by secret doubts. Their looks of admiration were genuine, but were tempered by hopeless shakings of the head which implied that there was no unqualified, sanction of tho one who had thus defied tho superstition.

The morning of the fight wore on slowly, and everybody watched the clock. Only to Jack, however, it seemed to tick faster than usual, and he tried to stay it by following the course of- the Yang-tse-Kiang River as laboriously as if lie wished it never to end. But the geography lesson, like most interesting things, ended all too soon, and the gong iii the hall sounded for “recess.” Everybody filed out, and the boys, more silent than usual at -such exciting times, made their way in lit tle groups to the ■fccne of interest. The school yard was large, but, the custom of the place being to let the children range as they liked over the neighborhood at recess, the boys, naturally enough, chose to make their playground any place but in the limits of the ioal one. Their favorite place mis in the shadow of an old church some little distance away, parallel with the schoolhouse, and easily seen from its windows. In top and marble seasons the hoys played on the side next the schoolhouse. In fouler weather, when such amicable sports were not in vogue. they took the other side . I hi; morning the crowd went round the church, and the girls nt the school--room windows decided suddenly that it would be nice to take a walk that way.

Jack was among the first on the field, and, a little heavy-hearted, but outwardly calm, listened to the advice of his friends and constituents. After a little waiting, around the corner appeared the likewise confident, bland face of Willie Perkins. Long immunity, from danger made the Orphan step boldly into the midst of the silent, frowning crowd, of boys. Hit very assurance seemed to radiate from him. Jack, somewhat to his dismay, when he turned to say something to Billy Boyd, found that the latter had moved back a little with tlie othei boys. Jack tried bard not to fee) deserted and prepared for fight. The two boys faced each other —Jack, dark, sturdy, and a little “chunky”— tho new boy, taller, slight, pale-faced, and rather agile-looking. Alter the fashion of the times, they prepared t* begin with a wrestle. “Yo oin have yer ‘holts,’ ” said Jack, contemptuously, and the new boy gripped him. A flash of joy burned up into Jack. Just as he had expected, his magnanimity was to do him no harm. He could manage three of-four boys like this. Ho felt the strength in his hands. The new boy was making some desperate and annoying wriggles, but they wouldn* t, last long. Jiack swung round leisurely and prepared to land his antagonist 'on tho ground in a way to be proud of. But in the moment in which lie waited to take a fiimei gup he had suddenly a queer little new sensation. It was of the silence about him. The boys always yelled when the favorite was winning. Now, however, though ho knew be was the lavoritc; yet there was no applause to show for it.' The silence was heavy. There was a wall of quiet figures round about. After all, tlie spirit ol tho boys was Against this fight. The moment it took Jack to think all this was the moment for his grip T.md throw,, and lie let it pass, llie next moment ho threw the new boy rather weakly to the ground and sat on him. In the order of things it was next for Jack to pummel -his victim till lie

cliod for mercy. Jack gave the Orphan one blow in the chest and then another. Then a kind of self-consci-ousness came over him, and to save his life ho couldn’t strike again. Ho look a moment to feel this, too, forgetting that, such a position is not conducive to thought, and that minute all was lost. For a lithe, light figure wriggled out of his grasp, and the next minute the tables were turned. The new boy had no qualms about pummelling, and his .clasp was like that of the Old Man of the Sea. Jack didn’t cry for mercy, but the boys dragged the victor'off at last. They were unfriendly as ever to him, but they took care not to be rough. Billy brushed Jack’s coat ruefully. “I kiiowed how it would be, Jack,” he murmured in a gloomy aside. “You can’t lick an Orphan.”

“I tell ye I could have licked him,” blazed Jack, pulling away. “If I hadn’t let him off.” Billy shook his head sadly. “It’s all the same thing,” he said.

The bell to “take up recess” rang sharply, and tho boys dived toward the schoolhouse. Jack lingered a minute to complete the brushing, and to ponder sadly upon the cause of his defeat. And suddenly round tho corner of the church was poked a head with black braids, and Mirabel’s brown eyes flashed at him. “Ain’t you ashamed, Jack Graham! Ain’t you now —to whip an orphan!” Jack stared uncertainly. He would fnin have posed'as a haughty victor, but he knew that she would find the truth out soon enough. Desperately he caught at the last straw, which was the truth.

“I didn’t .lick him, Mira,”\ he said, pleadingly. “I could have, but I let him lick mo ’cause lie is an orphan [ hope to die I did.” In the long moment that followed feminine inconsistency came to the top. Mira’s expression changed from reproach to disgust nml amazement.

“You let him lick you!” she said, with growing scorn at last. “Did he win? Well —1 never!” She turned away and ran toward the schoolhouse. Jack followed in a daze. Whichever way he took it, it seemed, the tradition of school life had won. Ton couldn’t lick an orphan.