TOM'S VICTORY by Angel of Peace

Pacific Press Publishing Company · Oakland, California · Feb 12, 1894

FromSigns of the Times, Vol. 20, No. 15.

TOM'S VICTORY.

By Angel of Peace

"THAT Ned Lane," said Tom Bixby, doubling up his fist and stamping his feet, "is a mean, spiteful, wicked boy. I wish he was dead, I do."

Then Tom broke down and fairly burst into tears. His mother, who had heard his angry words, came out into the garden to see what had caused them. She too was indignant at what she saw. There was Tom's pet doggie, Fawn, stretched out stiff and cold on the grass. Around his neck a string was tied, from which dangled a card. On it these words were written, in a scraggly, blotted hand:—

"He'll never chase my chickens no more. NED LANE."

"O mother," cried Tom, "look at poor Fawn! See what that cruel Ned has done. Oh, how I hate him! I'll be revenged."

Fawn had been a favorite with all the Bixby family, and, in spite of the fact that he would pursue chickens and tear the dresses of passing ladies, or catch and hide away stockings and handkerchiefs when they were laid upon the grass to bleach, Mrs. Bixby had borne with him. She had hoped that his youthful faults would be cured in time. She knew that Ned Lane had been made very angry because of the loss of two rare fowls which Fawn had shaken and torn to pieces, and she felt that Fawn had been a great annoyance to the neighbors,—a great transgressor. But what to do with Ned was a question, for Tom's heart was almost broken.

"Tom," she said, "you say you hate Ned. Do you wish what I heard you say just now,—to be really revenged?"

"Yes, mother; I want to see him suffer. I wish all his chickens were gone."

"Ned has done a cruel deed, and I do not wonder that you are very deeply grieved; but, my son, 'he that hateth his brother is a murderer.'"

"He's not my brother."

"In one sense he is. Yet I am sure you do not mean that you would really like to see him dead and cold like your dog. If you think of the meaning of your words, I am sure you wish him no such ill. I think there is a way by which you can make him very sorry for this, and yet keep your own self-respect."

The gentle words won their way to Tom's heart. He sat down by his mother, and she passed her soft hand over his hot brow and soothed him tenderly. Then she gave her plan for being "quits," as he called it, with Ned, and getting the victory.

The next day when Ned Lane met Tom Bixby on his way to school, he was rather mortified to hear nothing about Fawn. He was prepared to defend himself if attacked, but Tom passed on in silence. He tried to say, "Hello, Ned!" but failed in the attempt. All the morning, however, when the boys were in their classes together, Tom looked and acted as usual, and at recess he engaged heartily in games with the other boys.

When Ned, feeling more and more uncomfortable, went home to dinner, a surprise awaited him. A superb pair of Brahmapootra fowls had arrived, with a string and a card attached:—

"For those my poor Fawn chased. TOM BIXBY."