The excitement in the village was appeased at last; but great indignation was felt towards Stephen when it became known that he was the author of it all.
The poor boy who had been bitten was in great terror, and his parents sent for the doctor in hot haste. That worthy—who had a theory of his own about hydrophobia, and was only waiting and longing for an opportunity to put it into practice—chipperly trod his way to the rescue with a case of surgical instruments, and was about to perform some horrible operation on the hapless youth, when the news came that the dog was not mad. Then he applied a soothing poultice to the bite, and wearily plodded his way back to his office, full of bitterness because he had not been able to try his little experiment.
The bitten boy, however, was of a malicious disposition, and he vowed to take dire revenge for the indignities heaped upon him.
Stephen’s position was not one to be envied. He was so thoroughly ashamed of himself that he latibulized in the house for four livelong days; and, for a boy of his restless disposition, that was unheard-of penance. What passed between him and his scandalized parents would not benefit or interest the reader, consequently it is not recorded here. He mustered his resolution and took to reading his sisters’ “little books,” which he had always abhorred and eschewed with the unreasonable and implacable hatred of boyhood, and gladdened his mother’s heart with his staidness and meekness. For one whole month he refrained from playing off or studying up any trick, and those most interested in him began to hope that his reformation in that respect was sincere.
Alas! such hopes were built on quicksands! His father, taking pity on the dogless boy, had bought him a frisky Newfoundland pup, which he cared for lovingly and almost idolized; and as the memory of poor Tip gradually faded from his mind, he forgot the many morals and precepts that had been held up to him by his well-meaning parents. In a merry moment Steve named this pup “Thomas Henry;” but as this provoked the laughter of his school-fellows, in sheer desperation he nicknamed it “Carlo.”
At the end of that one month, the street urchins got tired of teasing him about mad dogs, and he recovered his spirits and his love of mischief, and returned to his former pursuits with gusto. In a word, Stephen became himself again.
Chapter XIII.
The Six go to a Picnic.
About this time a picnic was planned by the villagers, to be held in a grove beside the river. Everything was arranged beforehand, so that no hitch might occur; but, for all that, a hitch did occur, since seventeen plum-cakes and five hundred and nine tarts were baked. A fire was to be lighted on an “island” in the river, and another on the shore; and over those fires, something, no one could have told exactly what, was to be boiled. Boats were to be provided to ferry the picnickers to and from the said island. By the way, this pigmy island was prettily clothed with grass and flowers, and presented a fine appearance from the river; therefore, by the poetical, it was appropriately named “The Conservatory.” It was also roundish in shape, and therefore, from the vulgar, it received the unique nickname of “The Saucer.” Our heroes generally gave it the latter name.