Jack went home that night very sore on his back and in his feelings. He felt humiliated to be beaten like a dog, and even a dog feels degraded in being beaten. He told his mother about it—the tall, dignified, sweet-faced mother, patient in trouble and full of a goodness that did not talk much about goodness. She always took it for granted that her boy would not do anything mean, and thus made a healthy atmosphere for a brave boy to grow in. Jack told her of his whipping, with some heat, while he sat at supper. She did not say much then, but after Jack’s evening chores were all finished, she sat down by the candle where he was trying to get out some sums, and questioned him carefully.
“Why didn’t you tell who did it?” she asked.
“Because it makes a boy mean to tell, and all the boys would have thought me a sneak.”
“It is a little hard to face a general opinion like that,” she said.
“But,” said Jack, “if I had told, the master would have whipped Columbus all the same, and the boys would probably have pounded him, too. I ought to have told beforehand,” said Jack, after a pause. “But I thought it was only some coffee-nuts that they had put in. The mean fellows, to let Columbus take a whipping for them! But the way Mr. Ball beats us is enough to make a boy mean and cowardly.”
After a long silence, the mother said: “I think we shall have to give it up, Jack.”
“What, mother?”
“The schooling for this winter. I don’t want you to go where boys are beaten in that way. In the morning, go and get your books and see what you can do at home.”
Then, after a long pause, in which neither liked to speak, Mrs. Dudley said:
“I want you to be an educated man. You learn quickly; you have a taste for books, and you will be happier if you get knowledge. If I could collect the money that Gray owes your father’s estate, or even a part of it, I should be able to keep you in school one winter after this. But there seems to be no hope for that.”