Little Victories by Miss E. T. Morgan

Seventh-day Adventist Missionary Society · Oakland, California · Jan 17, 1884

Little Victories.

By Miss E. T. Morgan

CHARLEY SAUDEK possessed far greater enthusiasm as a young naturalist than the average school-boy of fourteen. He had acquainted himself with the varied styles of bird-architecture in his neighborhood, from the little brown sparrow's lowly home in the grass-plot in the orchard, to that of the hanging-bird, ingeniously built on some branches overlapping a deep flowing brook on his father's farm; from the twittering swallow's dusky nest in the chimney, to the lordly eagle's crude aerie on a steep cliff five miles distant. He had watched the frog-spawn, had hailed the big-headed, flat-bodied tadpole, followed its development till it pushed out two legs on each side, and shed its hinder appendage, becoming a genuine young frog, taking on the life and habits of its acknowledged parents, and he wondered if the animal preserved a single recollection of its different metamorphoses. These pursuits gave zest to everything that Charley saw, and now he was, as he said, nearly on his head to buy a ten-dollar microscope; "None of your cheap affairs, because I shall want to use it all my life, father."

"Ten dollars is a good round sum, my boy, to pay for a mere microscope, and perhaps might be expended to a better advantage."

"Perhaps," returned Charley, doubtfully; "but, father, if you will only get me one, I'll take splendid care of my clothes, and you needn't get me a new suit this fall."

Mr. Saudek looked at his bright, promising son, and at length replied, "Your mother must decide that matter. She has the right to say whether she will be willing for one of her household to be clad less respectably than people about her."

Charlie appealed instantly to his mother, and she gravely answered, "My son is entirely too indifferent now to his personal appearance, and I cannot give my consent. He must seek some other plan to supply his want."

Perhaps the look upon her husband's face biased the decision of Mrs. Saudek, for they were a unit in family government. Charley was nonplussed for a moment; then lifting his clear, brave eyes to his father's, he said, "Mother goes against me, father. Let me take a hand's place in the harvest-field, then; I can do as good work as any boy of my age, and will work faithfully, and that shall save one hand. You are entitled to my work without pay; but you promised me a visit of two months at Uncle Ernest's, and if I stay at home and work ever so hard, won't you give me five dollars a month and my board?"

"Who will accompany your mother in that case? Besides, your cousins are all looking for you."

"That's what I hate about it, father; but I shall be more disappointed than they if Cousin Ben, who has been sick so long, cannot go with mother. The trip will be the making of him, and he is too poor to pay his own expenses. He yesterday said he'd give anything if he could go with us, and he is such a downright good fellow that cousins will be as glad to see him as me. It won't cost any more for him to go than me, and I can be earning my microscope; and, father, you won't be anything more out of pocket than if I went." Turning to his mother he laid his dear, boyish cheek to hers, and said, "If I go, mother dear, sick Ben will lose his chance of a pleasure-trip, while I shall be minus the coveted instrument. Of course, mother, it must and shall be just as you and father decide."

"If I leave my darling boy, Charley, with you, Mr. Saudek, will you hire him for two months, and let me take Ben with me?"

"I certainly will," replied the gentleman. "Furthermore, I must say, I am very much pleased with the entire arrangement. I am glad Charley has shown some consideration for Ben, and is independent enough to work for something that will be lasting benefit to him, even at the expense of a long-anticipated visit."

The two harvest months didn't seem a whit shorter to Charley because he expected his microscope at the end of them. The days were long and hot, not at all like the days he had looked for at the close of the school, to be spent in the cool woods and shady lawn of his uncle's beautiful home, according as he and his cousins should agree. And there were fifty-two such days to be passed under the broiling sun, unless some friendly clouds drifted along to temper its rays; and then mother was gone and he had to bear his little headaches and weariness all alone. His father was near at hand, which was a comfort; but then Charley had put himself on footing with the other laborers, and must manfully take their fare, and bravely bear his pain and fatigue. Twice a week there came a letter from his mother, which almost unsettled him; but Ben's, with its deep, grateful lines, telling how fast he was growing strong, and what long rambles he could take already, quieted his longings, and put him to rights again. There is no cloud so dark that it will not pass, no day so long that it will not close; and so the months of toil came to an end for Charley, and his father placed two new, crisp, five-dollar bills into his brown hand, and his mother, who had shortened her visit a few days to see him paid off, kissed his forehead, and said, "I am proud of my boy!"

Her kiss of approval thrilled him with joy, as he grasped the thought, "Father and mother have fully understood and appreciated my effort all along, and I am glad for their sakes, as well as for Ben's and my own, that I was able to carry it through."

Every day Charley, like the very boy that he was, took a good look at his two bills, looking proudly upon them as a pledge of surety for the microscope. One more day and night must pass before he could place them in the hands of his Uncle Ernest, who would call on his route to New York, and who would gladly make the purchase for him.

"Father, here is Tom Harris. Mr. Saunders has turned him off without paying him, or letting him even have his clothes, and what is the boy to do? Can't you find some work on the farm for him to do? He was saving up his money to go to school this winter at the Old Academy; but now his money and clothes are gone," continued indignant Charley, growing more and more excited as he went on; "and you know, father, that that is precisely the way that 'stingy old hunks' serves every boy he gets into his clutches."

"To whom are you speaking, and of whom are you speaking?" asked the father quietly.

"Excuse me, father, but I feel so vexed at the way old Saunders always acts towards poor boys, and there is not a man in the neighborhood that dares say nay to his beggarly acts."

"I shall be much obliged if Master Charles Saudek will not forget himself in the presence of his superiors, or apply disrespectful epithets to people older than himself. It is neither sensible, manly, nor polite. If Mr. Saunders does wrong, it does not help the cause in the least for you to call him vile names. It simply brings you to a level with him. You have a right, and it is your duty, to dissent from his conduct. As to Tom, he can stay here till he can do better, and in that way he can get some clothes for winter; but with regard to his schooling and books, I promise nothing. It is a great thing to feel sure of food, shelter, and clothing. If your mother and I look after most of his temporal wants, you must make some sacrifice, and let him room with you."

That was the one thing of all others that touched Charley on a tender spot. He had stored up so many specimens and queer things, which he could not bear to have meddled with, that he scarcely ever invited a school associate to share his room for a single night. How, then, could he stand it to have a constant roommate? It seemed out of the question.

Father and son eyed each other steadily, and Charley, convinced that his father was in "dead earnest," knew that Tom's chance depended on him.

"Very well, sir, Tom must not leave because I am selfish; he may room with me."

"Give me your hand, my boy, for you have achieved a great victory. I acknowledge it is hard for an only son not to grow up a little selfish, but your father is not afraid of his Charley. Perhaps you can help Tom in his studies as well."

"I might if he were not so close on my heels now," answered Charley, laughing; "but I'll look after them in some way."

Next morning he showed his parents a note he held on Tom for ten dollars he had loaned to pay Tom's way to the academy, and to buy his books. "Tom didn't want to do it one bit, but I insisted. My microscope can wait a spell longer, and don't let us say one word to Uncle Ernest about it."

The mother mutely kissed her child, and the father smiled his approval. Their approbation, with the pleasant consciousness of having obeyed the "Golden Rule," was worth more than a dozen microscopes. He had come unexpectedly upon a deep spring of joy, new and exquisitely sweet. His parents did not disturb his serenity by questioning the value of the bit of paper he held, and which bore Tom Harris' name. It was a boyish transaction, and, if held inviolate, would prove of incalculable value to both lads.

The academy opened with an unusual flush of pupils, and our lads, eager and ambitious, were enrolled among the number. Charley found Tom, as time went on, a help rather than a hindrance in arranging his old curiosities, and in gathering new ones for his cabinet.

After awhile the time for sleet and snow came, and many a person, as one darkey in town said, "tumbled down promiscuous like." One man had fallen on the outskirts of town, whom young Harris, who was hurrying on as fast as the ice would let him, found to be Mr. Saunders. He had fallen and badly sprained his ankle, and lay there helpless and in pain. By a prodigious effort, Tom succeeded in getting his enemy home. Next evening Charley and Tom walked over to Mr. Saunders' to inquire after him, and make themselves generally useful. When the boys were about to leave, Mr. Saunders asked, "Tom will you come back and try me once more? I have no child, and need some boy about. I will settle with you for the past, and do better by you for the future;" and he paid him on the spot.

"Indeed, sir, I would try you awhile again under the circumstances; but, sir, Mr. Saudek advanced money to get my clothes, and I must work out my time as I agreed."

"That is right, Tom; but you send Mr. Saudek to me. Tell him what a fix I am in, and he'll come."

The result was Tom lifted his note and went back to live at Mr. Saunders', that gentleman having paid Mr. Saudek for the clothes; and by Christmas Charley had in his possession a first-class microscope.

"My darling boy," said his mother as she fondly stroked his hair, "you can see now how many good influences have flowed from your one unselfish act towards your cousin Ben, and your manly effort to buy what you most desired. Your cheerful loan to Tom, and your sharing your room with him, kept him here, and ended in changing parsimonious Mr. Saunders into Tom's kind benefactor."

"Yet, mother, lump it all, and it was but a little thing for me to do," replied the happy boy.—Miss. E. T. Morgan, in Christian Union.