Little Men: Life at Plumfield With Jo's Boys
an ease that caused all the others to keep at a respectful distance from
his fists. Mr. Bhaer watched him silently, and did his best to tame the
“Wild Boy,” as they called him, but in private the worthy man shook his
head, and said soberly, “I hope the experiment will turn out well, but I
am a little afraid it may cost too much.”
Mrs. Bhaer lost her patience with him half a dozen times a day, yet
never gave him up, and always insisted that there was something good
in the lad, after all; for he was kinder to animals than to people, he
liked to rove about in the woods, and, best of all, little Ted was fond
of him. What the secret was no one could discover, but Baby took to him
at once gabbled and crowed whenever he saw him preferred his strong back
to ride on to any of the others and called him “My Danny” out of his
own little head. Teddy was the only creature to whom Dan showed an
affection, and this was only manifested when he thought no one
else would see it; but mothers' eyes are quick, and motherly hearts
instinctively divine who love their babies. So Mrs. Jo soon saw and felt
that there was a soft spot in rough Dan, and bided her time to touch and
win him.
But an unexpected and decidedly alarming event upset all their plans,
and banished Dan from Plumfield.
Tommy, Nat, and Demi began by patronizing Dan, because the other
lads rather slighted him; but soon they each felt there was a certain
fascination about the bad boy, and from looking down upon him they came
to looking up, each for a different reason. Tommy admired his skill and
courage; Nat was grateful for past kindness; and Demi regarded him as
a sort of animated story book, for when he chose Dan could tell his
adventures in a most interesting way. It pleased Dan to have the three
favorites like him, and he exerted himself to be agreeable, which was
the secret of his success.
The Bhaers were surprised, but hoped the lads would have a good
influence over Dan, and waited with some anxiety, trusting that no harm
would come of it.
Dan felt they did not quite trust him, and never showed them his best
side, but took a wilful pleasure in trying their patience and thwarting
their hopes as far as he dared.
Mr. Bhaer did not approve of fighting, and did not think it a proof of
either manliness or courage for two lads to pommel one another for
the amusement of the rest. All sorts of hardy games and exercises were
encouraged, and the boys were expected to take hard knocks and tumbles
without whining; but black eyes and bloody noses given for the fun of it
were forbidden as a foolish and a brutal play.
Dan laughed at this rule, and told such exciting tales of his own valor,
and the many frays that he had been in, that some of the lads were fired
with a desire to have a regular good “mill.”
“Don't tell, and I'll show you how,” said Dan; and, getting half a dozen
of the lads together behind the barn, he gave them a lesson in boxing,
which quite satisfied the ardor of most of them. Emil, however, could
not submit to be beaten by a fellow younger than himself, for Emil was
past fourteen and a plucky fellow, so he challenged Dan to a fight. Dan
accepted at once, and the others looked on with intense interest.
What little bird carried the news to head-quarters no one ever knew,
but, in the very hottest of the fray, when Dan and Emil were fighting
like a pair of young bulldogs, and the others with fierce, excited
faces were cheering them on, Mr. Bhaer walked into the ring, plucked the
combatants apart with a strong hand, and said, in the voice they seldom
heard,
“I can't allow this, boys! Stop it at once; and never let me see it
again. I keep a school for boys, not for wild beasts. Look at each other
and be ashamed of yourselves.”
“You let me go, and I'll knock him down again,” shouted Dan, sparring
away in spite of the grip on his collar.
“Come on, come on, I ain't thrashed yet!” cried Emil, who had been down
five times, but did not know when he was beaten.
“They are playing be gladdy what-you-call-'ems, like the Romans, Uncle
Fritz,” called out Demi, whose eyes were bigger than ever with the
excitement of this new pastime.
“They were a fine set of brutes; but we have learned something since
then, I hope, and I cannot have you make my barn a Colosseum. Who
proposed this?” asked Mr. Bhaer.
“Dan,” answered several voices.
“Don't you know that it is forbidden?”
“Yes,” growled Dan, sullenly.
“Then why break the rule?”
“They'll all be molly-coddles, if they don't know how to fight.”
“Have you found Emil a molly-coddle? He doesn't look much like one,”
and Mr. Bhaer brought the two face to face. Dan had a black eye, and his
jacket was torn to rags, but Emil's face was covered with blood from a
cut lip and a bruised nose, while a bump on his forehead was already as
purple as a plum. In spite of his wounds however, he still glared upon
his foe, and evidently panted to renew the fight.
“He'd make a first-rater if he was taught,” said Dan, unable to withhold
the praise from the boy who made it necessary for him to do his best.
“He'll be taught to fence and box by and by, and till then I think
he will do very well without any lessons in mauling. Go and wash your
faces; and remember, Dan, if you break any more of the rules again, you
will be sent away. That was the bargain; do your part and we will do
ours.”
The lads went off, and after a few more words to the spectators, Mr.
Bhaer followed to bind up the wounds of the young gladiators. Emil went
to bed sick, and Dan was an unpleasant spectacle for a week.
But the lawless lad had no thought of obeying, and soon transgressed
again.
One Saturday afternoon as a party of the boys went out to play, Tommy
said,
“Let's go down to the river, and cut a lot of new fish-poles.”
“Take Toby to drag them back, and one of us can ride him down,” proposed
Stuffy, who hated to walk.
“That means you, I suppose; well, hurry up, lazy-bones,” said Dan.
Away they went, and having got the poles were about to go home, when
Demi unluckily said to Tommy, who was on Toby with a long rod in his
hand,
“You look like the picture of the man in the bull-fight, only you
haven't got a red cloth, or pretty clothes on.”
“I'd like to see one; there's old Buttercup in the big meadow, ride at
her, Tom, and see her run,” proposed Dan, bent on mischief.
“No, you mustn't,” began Demi, who was learning to distrust Dan's
propositions.
“Why not, little fuss-button?” demanded Dan.
“I don't think Uncle Fritz would like it.”
“Did he ever say we must not have a bull-fight?”
“No, I don't think he ever did,” admitted Demi.
“Then hold your tongue. Drive on, Tom, and here's a red rag to flap at
the old thing. I'll help you to stir her up,” and over the wall went
Dan, full of the new game, and the rest followed like a flock of sheep;
even Demi, who sat upon the bars, and watched the fun with interest.
Poor Buttercup was not in a very good mood, for she had been lately
bereft of her calf, and mourned for the little thing most dismally. Just
now she regarded all mankind as her enemies (and I do not blame her),
so when the matadore came prancing towards her with the red handkerchief
flying at the end of his long lance, she threw up her head, and gave
a most appropriate “Moo!” Tommy rode gallantly at her, and Toby
recognizing an old friend, was quite willing to approach; but when the
lance came down on her back with a loud whack, both cow and donkey were
surprised and disgusted. Toby back with a bray of remonstrance, and
Buttercup lowered her horns angrily.
“At her again, Tom; she's jolly cross, and will do it capitally!” called
Dan, coming up behind with another rod, while Jack and Ned followed his
example.
Seeing herself thus beset, and treated with such disrespect, Buttercup
trotted round the field, getting more and more bewildered and excited
every moment, for whichever way she turned, there was a dreadful boy,
yelling and brandishing a new and very disagreeable sort of whip. It was
great fun for them, but real misery for her, till she lost patience and
turned the tables in the most unexpected manner. All at once she wheeled
short round, and charged full at her old friend Toby, whose conduct cut
her to the heart. Poor slow Toby backed so precipitately that he tripped
over a stone, and down went horse, matadore, and all, in one ignominious
heap, while distracted Buttercup took a surprising leap over the wall,
and galloped wildly out of sight down the road.
“Catch her, stop her, head her off! run, boys, run!” shouted Dan,
tearing after her at his best pace, for she was Mr. Bhaer's pet
Alderney, and if anything happened to her, Dan feared it would be all
over with him. Such a running and racing and bawling and puffing as
there was before she was caught! The fish-poles were left behind; Toby
was trotted nearly off his legs in the chase; and every boy was red,
breathless, and scared. They found poor Buttercup at last in a flower
garden, where she had taken refuge, worn out with the long run.
Borrowing a rope for a halter, Dan led her home, followed by a party
of very sober young gentlemen, for the cow was in a sad state, having
strained her shoulder jumping, so that she limped, her eyes looked wild,
and her glossy coat was wet and muddy.
“You'll catch it this time, Dan,” said Tommy, as he led the wheezing
donkey beside the maltreated cow.
“So will you, for you helped.”
“We all did, but Demi,” added Jack.
“He put it into our heads,” said Ned.
“I told you not to do it,” cried Demi, who was most broken-hearted at
poor Buttercup's state.
“Old Bhaer will send me off, I guess. Don't care if he does,” muttered
Dan, looking worried in spite of his words.
“We'll ask him not to, all of us,” said Demi, and the others assented
with the exception of Stuffy, who cherished the hope that all the
punishment might fall on one guilty head. Dan only said, “Don't bother
about me;” but he never forgot it, even though he led the lads astray
again, as soon as the temptation came.
When Mr. Bhaer saw the animal, and heard the story, he said very little,
evidently fearing that he should say too much in the first moments of
impatience. Buttercup was made comfortable in her stall, and the boys
sent to their rooms till supper-time. This brief respite gave them time
to think the matter over, to wonder what the penalty would be, and to
try to imagine where Dan would be sent. He whistled briskly in his room,
so that no one should think he cared a bit; but while he waited to know
his fate, the longing to stay grew stronger and stronger, the more he
recalled the comfort and kindness he had known here, the hardship and
neglect he had felt elsewhere. He knew they tried to help him, and at
the bottom of his heart he was grateful, but his rough life had made
him hard and careless, suspicious and wilful. He hated restraint of any
sort, and fought against it like an untamed creature, even while he knew
it was kindly meant, and dimly felt that he would be the better for it.
He made up his mind to be turned adrift again, to knock about the city
as he had done nearly all his life; a prospect that made him knit
his black brows, and look about the cosy little room with a wistful
expression that would have touched a much harder heart than Mr. Bhaer's
if he had seen it. It vanished instantly, however, when the good man
came in, and said in his accustomed grave way,
“I have heard all about it, Dan, and though you have broken the rules
again, I am going to give you one more trial, to please Mother Bhaer.”
Dan flushed up to his forehead at this unexpected reprieve, but he only
said in his gruff way,
“I didn't know there was any rule about bull-fighting.”