The Talisman: A Tale for Boys

by Anonymous

'That I shan't,' said Frank, in the same emphatic manner, which she had observed the evening before, and which appeared quite unaccountable to her.

They then took leave, after promising to call again the next time they rode that way.

Though Frank knew that money was a poor compensation for the little girl's pain, and could not obliterate the recollection of the circumstance which occasioned it, from his mind, yet the consciousness of having made a personal sacrifice, was the most satisfactory feeling he had experienced since the unfortunate day of the balloon.

Frank looked at his talisman, with more pleasure than he had done, since that time, and he began to resume his cheerfulness, and to make greater improvements in his studies. The mysterious way, in which the little girl's foot was burned, was several times alluded to, and the boys who had shared in the balloon, felt in jeopardy, whenever this happened, but the balloon itself was never heard of. It had probably caught in the tops of some trees, in a distant and unfrequented wood.

Lawrence, Gardiner, and the other boys, who had joined in the plan, soon ceased to feel any compunction, for the deed, and engaged in new projects of diversion, some of them innocent, while in others, they betrayed the want of nice, moral feeling, so rarely found, in those whose early impressions have not been carefully watched.

Frank, however, never forgot the lesson. It was a long time before he could even look at his talisman, without recurring to it, painfully, and seeing a stain on his character, which before, had been unblemished.

We must pass over many weeks, and even months, of Frank's school life, during which time, he had become quite domesticated, in Mr. Reed's family, and felt as much at ease there, as he did at home. His attachment to Mrs. Reed, had increased as his father had predicted, and he acknowledged that he loved her, now, next to his mother, and not such a great distance between them, either. I shall only insert one or two letters, written by Frank, during this period.

'Dear Mother,

I do not wonder that you thought my last letter formal, for I wrote it on composition day, that is, on Thursday morning. All the scholars write something; either choose a theme, or write a letter to one of their friends. They show their composition to the master, who corrects it, and awards to each, so many merits. I got quite a high mark for that letter, though I believe it was for the hand writing. I knew it was not the least like such an one, as I should write, all by myself. I told Mrs. Reed what you said about it, and she advised me, to write to you in play hours, not show it to any one, and tell you every thing I could think of. So I have determined to write my play hour letters to you, mother, and my composition letters to father; and if you do not think this is treating you fair, I will now and then, write a composition letter to you; but I do not know as I shall ever venture to send one of the other kind, to father.

I suppose you will excuse me for telling you, that I am second of all the school, in arithmetic, as nobody else will tell you, and it will please you very much to know it. We had a trial of skill the other day; each took the same sum, it was a dreadful hard one, each began at the same moment. William Gardiner, who is fourteen years old, finished his first; I handed mine up second; when they were all done, Mr. Reed examined them, and only twelve were right, out of twenty; and mine was one of those which had 'correct' written on it. Mr. Reed praised me very much, and said I had paid great attention to his instructions, in cyphering, and that if the other boys had been as attentive, they might, at least, have equalled one so much younger than many of them. I was delighted when Mr. Reed spoke of my success at table, and praised me to Mrs. Reed, and after dinner, she came up to me, and took my hand, and said, in such a kind manner, 'I am glad you have gained so much credit, Frank.' I did feel elated, I must own, mother. When I went up to my room, at night, I took out my talisman: as soon as I put my eyes on it, I perceived the reason of my doing the sum right, and where the praise was due. It was to you, who took such pains, just before I left home, to make me perfect in the four first rules of arithmetic, so that let me cypher in what rule I may, I am sure to get right, because I never miss in adding, subtracting, multiplying or dividing; and the truth is, I have been less attentive to Mr. Reed's instructions in arithmetic, than most of the others, because I knew so well, for he takes great pains in this branch. After looking on my talisman a few moments, I was no longer at a loss what I ought to do, and though it was rather disagreeable, I resolved on it.

I had not the courage to apply to Mr. Reed, but I went to Mrs. Reed, and told her, I did not deserve the praise of being more attentive to arithmetic than the other boys; for in the whole, I had been less so, and that several of those who failed yesterday, had been very attentive; and then I explained how it happened, that I did the sum, and asked her to tell Mr. Reed, that although the boys did not succeed as well as myself, yet they deserved as much praise for attention. This was in the morning, and I believe she told Mr. Reed after school; for at dinner this day, he began and said—'young gentlemen, I owe you an apology. I find you have been quite as attentive in your arithmetic, as Frank Courtland has;' and then he repeated what I had said, but added he, this 'ingenuousness deserves still higher praise, than what I bestowed yesterday. If Frank Courtland is not the best arithmetician, is he not the most honest boy in the school?' 'Yes sir, yes sir,' they all called out, and clapped their hands loud enough to stun us. This is the happiest moment I have had, since I left home; and if you knew some things which I cannot tell you, then you would understand why it delighted me so exceedingly, to be called an honest boy.

I have been three days, writing this letter, and yet I have not said half I want to say. I must beg you to excuse the writing, for I have written a good deal of it on the steps of the barn door, a shady place, where I often sit with my port-folio, you made me, and my little pocket inkstand. Love to Sam, I hope he has received my last letter; love to father, and a kiss to little Ann.

Your affectionate Son,

Frank.'

'Dear Sam,

I thank you for your long letter. I am glad you have written to me at last; for I began to think you never would. You need not have waited till you could write a better hand; for I am not obliged to show the letters I receive, unless I choose. I did show yours, because it was written so well. Mr. Reed said, that it did you great credit and also your instructor; so I thought I would tell him that it was mother who had taught you. He said he wished he could have another of mother's pupils in his school; and I wish to my heart you could come. There are many clever boys here. I like some of them very much; but they think differently from you and I in many respects. They get into scrapes and get out of them wonderfully. They used to lead me into them, when I first came; but they don't invite me now, for they know I will not join them, if I think it wrong. They are good boys on the whole; and William Gardiner and Albert Lawrence are so brave and droll, and kind, that I can't help liking them; and so do all the boys. Thomas Blanchard is an excellent fellow, though rather serious; he is three years older than I am. He helped me very much about my latin, when I first came, or I am sure, I never should have got along; for it is harder than any thing I ever learned; and you must not suppose that it is as easy to learn a thing at school, as with mother; for you know how much patience she has, and how clear she makes it before she has done. I am glad you continue your studies with mother, for I know you are very desirous of learning, and it must be a great amusement to her.

As Tom Blanchard was so kind in helping me to get my latin lessons, I have taught him to draw. You will wonder how I could do this, since I know so little myself. I remembered mother's instructions and repeated them to him, and lent him my pencils and all my patterns; he is such a genius, that he has got on far before me, and draws very prettily. He has taken a view of Mr. Reed's house and garden for me. As I know you would like to see what a pleasant place I live in, I am going to send it to you. Tom says, he shall not be affronted. Will you shew it to mother? and tell sister Ann, that if she can write as well as you tell of, I wish she would write me a letter. I should be proud to shew one from a little sister, six years old.

I had no chance to send this letter the day I wrote; therefore I will fill the sheet.

We had a grand time, the day before yesterday. It was the fourth of July; we wished very much to celebrate it, and asked Mr. Reed a month before it came, to let us have some music, and invite the young ladies of this village, and some from Boston, and have a dance. Mrs. Reed begged him to consent, and so he did. My cousins came, and a great many more; and William Gardiner thought my cousin Emily was the prettiest girl in the room. I had a share in planning a very pleasant part of the entertainment. I proposed to Gardiner, Lawrence, and some of our best fellows, that after we had danced some time, we should take the musicians out among the trees in the garden; and that while the company were sitting down to rest, they should strike up some fine tunes, which would attract them to the door, and into the garden; and then we would have a number of sky rockets sent up, all at once, from the bottom of the garden. We boys were to club and pay for the rockets, and no one else was to know a lisp of the plan. I insisted on asking Mr. Reed's leave; but we wanted to surprise Mrs. Reed, so she was not told of it.

Mr. Reed consented on condition that we would take our allowance of spending money, and not incur any further expense, to which we agreed. And then we thought of another thing, which made it very pretty. We formed an arbour of evergreen branches and flowers and hung in it some coloured lamps, which William Gardiner procured in town; for he is a capital fellow to do any thing that he sets about. Tom Blanchard made a transparency, and wrote on it, 'In honor of Mrs. Reed,' which was to be put over the entrance of the arbour. But Albert Lawrence and some others said this was not appropriate; as it was the fourth of July, we ought to have something about independence. I thought they were right, though I was sadly disappointed, that we could not pay the compliment to Mrs. Reed. Tom altered the motto, and put the word independence on it.

The sky rockets went off grandly, and the arbour looked beautifully when it was lighted. Mrs. Reed and some of the ladies sat in it, and we handed them some fruit and flowers, of both which we had a great variety and abundance from the garden. If you do not know what coloured lamps or transparencies are, I will tell you when I come home, or you can ask mother. I shall have enough to tell you; we are always having some pleasant thing on foot; but we are obliged to study very hard, to procure these indulgences; for they are all given as rewards. I found this studying very tiresome when I first came: yet now I am used to it, I can do more in an hour, than I could in a forenoon at home.

Please to give my respects to your father and mother and brothers. Your affectionate friend,

Frank.'

The summer months passed rapidly away.—Frank continued to meet with temptations, which as he usually had the strength to resist them, served to confirm his self-control. If, as was now and then the case, he was betrayed into vanity, peevishness or imprudence, the sight of his faithful talisman brought conviction of the error to his mind, and inspired him with resolution, to make all the reparation in his power. The boys all loved and respected him; and many, who from timidity used to join a party they disapproved, were now emboldened, by his example, to abide by their better judgment, and mischievous projects became gradually less popular in the school.