William, baptized William, but always called Will, was a boy who had a habit of committing blunders—a habit which, as will be seen, occasionally led him into deep disgrace. When a mere boy, his blunders were of little consequence; but when older they assumed a more serious form. Most of them arose from want of care, as he did everything without considering what the end might be. Doubtless, he ought to have been reproved for this; but as he was only a boy, and as many of his blunders partook of the ludicrous, his parents laughed at him, but seldom took pains to correct him.

Will’s father owned a highly cultivated farm, near one of the great lakes, and was a man of means. He indulged freely in dignified language, in illustrated magazines and weeklies, in frequent pleasure trips by land and water, and in gilded agricultural machines, fragile and complicated, but quite as useful as ornamental.

Will’s mother was an amiable lady, who accompanied her husband on every alternate pleasure trip, and who, by the help of an able housekeeper and a fire-proof cook, spread a table that excited the admiration or envy of all who knew her, the housekeeper, or the cook.

Such were Will’s father and mother, who generally, as he was their only child, suffered him to have his own way, took notice of all his sayings and doings, and occasionally jotted them down in a disused diary. But he was not the kind of boy to be spoiled by such usage; on the contrary he was a very good boy.

[18]

He was an athletic little fellow, able to undergo great fatigue, and endowed with so much perseverance and hope that he would fish all day for trout, and return at dusk with nothing but a few expiring mud-pouts and two or three forlorn fish worms. He was known to all the villagers, respected by all his school fellows, and was involved in all their troubles. But his school fellows did not regard him as a hero; in their expeditions he was seldom chosen leader; in their “trials by jury” he was frequently a juryman—in time of need the entire jury—but only occasionally the judge.

Will attended school regularly and learned his lessons carefully, whether he understood them or not. His appetite for learning was keen, but his appetite for sport was insatiable; no boy, on being set loose from school, was more demonstrative than he.

When old enough to be out with his father, he followed him constantly. About the whole farm there was not a hole into which he had not fallen, not a stone of any size over which he had not stumbled, and no danger of any kind, from animals or machines, from which he had not narrowly escaped. He was often carried bruised, wet and tearful into the presence of his terrified mother, who vowed that he should never again leave her sight. But as soon as his wounds were dressed and his wet, muddy, and sometimes blood-stained garments were changed, he would slip away, to invite new dangers and contend with old ones. Even when sitting quiet in the house, learning his lessons, his ink-bottle would unaccountably pour its contents over his books, his papers, or on the carpet. Yet Will’s father declared that the boy was neither awkward nor stupid, but only “inconsiderate” and “headlong.” In proportion as he grew older, Mr. Lawrence hoped that he would grow wiser, and less “headlong.”

Having thus touched upon Will’s characteristics, it is now in order to begin at the beginning, when he was a small boy.

One day, when the boy had arrived at the age of seven years, a strolling and struggling newspaper genius was invited to spend the afternoon and evening at the farm-house.[19] At the supper table this gentleman interested himself particularly in the boy, and the mother, pleased with this attention, began to enlarge upon her darling’s talents and cleverness, till, warming with maternal pride, she became quite eloquent.

“What do you suppose he did the other day?” she asked.

Will’s face suddenly became red. His mother did not notice this, but the newspaper genius did; and while he answered politely, he muttered to himself, “Hanged somebody’s cat, I should infer from his looks.”

“Why, he—” began the mother, when she was suddenly interrupted by Will’s saying, “Please don’t tell, mother!”

This remark, of course, drew the attention of all three to the boy, and they saw that he appeared ill at ease, and that his face was painfully flushed.

Mrs. Lawrence looked surprised. “Why, Will,” she said, “I’m sure its greatly to your credit.” Then turning to the guest: “Mr. Sargent, the other day he gave his papa the boundaries of every country and continent on the globe; and he did it all from memory, not looking once at a map!” Mr. Sargent was a polite man; he now expressed the liveliest astonishment.

“Oh!” burst from Will’s lips, followed by a sigh of relief, “Is that what you wanted to tell?”

“What did you suppose your mamma intended to tell me?” basely inquired the newspaper man, quickly recovering from his astonishment.

Will hesitated, but finally answered, “I thought it was about the fire-crackers.”

The guest’s curiosity was awakened. “What about the fire-crackers?” he inquired, so courteously that no one could take offence.

“Oh, he had a bad time with them; that’s all;” said Mrs. Lawrence, coming to the rescue.

But Will, who was plainly dissatisfied with his mother’s version of the affair, explained, with an effort that proved him to be a hero, “I had some fire-crackers, and they set the chip yard on fire, and nearly burnt up a cow in the cow-house!”

[20]

Having thus eased his conscience, he relapsed into silence. But it was evident that his nerves were quite unstrung; the visitor was therefore not taken wholly unawares when Will, in passing him the “preserves,” spilt them on his pants.

With a sigh of resignation the unfortunate took the mishap as a joke, and asked, as they rose from the table, if Will would bring out some of his toys.

“Get out the gun you made yourself,” Mr. Lawrence suggested.

The boy left the room but soon came in with a rude weapon—which boys would call a squirt-gun, but which Mr. and Mrs. Lawrence, from ignorance or flattery, called a gun. But time is precious to some people; perhaps they called it a gun to save breath.

The errant newspaper man took up the squirt-gun, to examine it at his convenience, but lo! another mishap! The infernal machine, or whatever one may call it, had discharged a black and muddy fluid over his spotless shirt front.

Another involuntary “Oh!” broke from poor Will’s lips. “It must be the poison we had for the red currant bugs!” he groaned. “I thought I had squirted every drop out of the gun, but—”

“This is an extraordinary little gun, I’ve no doubt,” said the unhappy man, in a pet, “but I don’t wish to experiment with it at present. I should prefer to see some harmless toy, such as a wooden top or a horse-hair watch-chain. It is always dangerous for me to meddle with guns, anyway.”

For once, the newspaper man’s suavity had failed him.

But Mrs. Lawrence, in her heart, thought that a judgment had overtaken him for ferreting out Will’s secret.

The owner of the gun took it and gladly left the room. He did not return with his wooden tops, but climbed up on the roof of the stable, where he whiled away the rest of the evening with his new jack-knife and a piece of cedar. He did not cut his fingers very badly, however.

The distressed parents were placed in a very embarrassing situation, but the sufferer’s equanimity soon returned, and the conversation again flowed on smoothly.

[21]

When the visitor took leave, it is to be hoped that he took with him a due appreciation of Will’s talents and cleverness.

Next morning Mr. Lawrence called his son and addressed him thus: “My son, you are a very heedless boy. Reflect on the sad results of your heedlessness, and endeavor to use the faculty of reason before you act in any matter. Think of the annoyance you gave us last night! You ought never to interrupt your mother, for you may be sure that she would never tell a stranger anything to your discredit. Will you bear this in mind?”

“Yes, sir,” muttered the boy, trying to understand the meaning of the big words. “But,” anxiously, “will he be scolded and whipped, as Jim was when he got his clothes spoiled?”

“Are you speaking of the gentleman who passed the evening with us?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Then don’t grieve about that, for his parents will not harm him,” Mr. Lawrence replied with a smile.

A short time after this occurrence, Will informed his father that a muskrat had built itself a home by a stream which ran through their farm.

“Should you like to catch it in a trap?” Mr. Lawrence asked.

The boy, of course, said yes. Immediately the fond father bought a strong little trap and presented it to the would-be trapper. The trap cost ninety cents; a wandering tin-peddler might perhaps be generous enough to give Will fifteen cents for the pelt of the muskrat. In that event everybody would be satisfied. But the home of the muskrat would be made desolate.

Mrs. Lawrence beheld this trap with horror, and not without reason, for, within the next two hours, Will contrived to imprison in it several of his fingers.

After repeated warnings from his parents, the young hero set out for the stream, trap in hand. Having successfully achieved the feat of setting it, he returned and gave his father the particulars.

“I fear that some more historical animal than a muskrat[22] will come to an untimely end in that trap,” Mr. Lawrence said dolorously.

His words were prophetic.

In the morning, full of hope, Will hurried to the home of the muskrat. Beyond a doubt, the trap held an animal. But it was neither a musk nor any other kind of rat; it was a beautiful little greyhound, fast in the jaws of the trap, and stone dead.

Will’s tears flowed freely at this pitiable sight, and fear was added to his grief, when, in the greyhound, he recognized the constant companion of Senator Murdock.

“Poor little Pet! How often you have played with me!” the trapper said, in the interval of his sobs. “Oh, what shall I do, and what will Mr. Murdock say to me!”

Just as the boy spoke, the Senator was approaching in his search of the dog.

“Ah, my little man,” he said, as he drew near the sorrowing trapper, “can you tell me where to look for Pet? I’ve lost him this morning, and I thought you could help me to find him, if any one could. We live so near that you and Pet are always together. Why, what is the matter?” he asked, seeing that the boy was crying bitterly.

“Oh, sir!” was all Will could say.

But the Senator was now beside him, and, taking in the matter at a glance, he exclaimed angrily, “What is this I see? Have you, whom I always considered a moral little boy, have you entrapped my dog! I am amazed! Poor Pet! Poor little dog!”

“I didn’t mean to catch him,” Will pleaded, “and I am very sorry.”

“Well, I shall not blame you,” the Senator said slowly. “Your father ought not to let you set traps so recklessly, and I lay the blame upon him.”

“Don’t blame my father, for it is my own fault,” Will replied, ready, at all times, to defend his father. “I will never do it again, Mr. Murdock; indeed I won’t.”

“Hardly, seeing that the poor beast is dead. But help me to get it out of trap, and I shall take it home and bury it.”

[23]

Then the two, man and boy, legislator and trapper, fell to work, and soon liberated the dog from his prison.

If the Senator could have known what danger his white and dainty fingers were incurring, that is, how narrowly they escaped being pinched, he would have kept them away from that trap. In fact, considering the state of excitement into which any mishap threw Will, it is strange that they were not cruelly mangled. But they escaped without a scratch.

Mr. Lawrence was deeply grieved when he heard the ignominious fate of the Senator’s dog. Probably he felt that he himself was blamable.

But the affair was soon all but forgotten by Will, because, at his age, such misdemeanors are generally forgotten as soon as the offender repents of them and is pardoned by the sufferers.

This chapter, like all the others, is intended to serve a purpose; yet, lest the reader should fancy that we are writing for the entertainment of juveniles, we shall relate but two more incidents of Will’s childhood.