The boy did not reply to this question. The truth of the matter was, he had learned, as a good many of us have, that there is more pleasure in looking forward to the possession of a thing, than there is in possessing it. The pride he at first felt in having a horse of his own, very soon gave place to an unreasonable hostility toward the animal. It was not so easy to ride him as it looked to be, and he was so slow of foot that one of the Kirkwood boys offered to bet a six-bladed, pearl-handled knife against Tony's "Barlow," that he could find a fellow who could beat him in a fair race. Tony couldn't afford to study hard for a whole year to pay for such a pony as that.
"But whether you wake up or not," continued Mr. Richardson, "you can depend upon one thing: you are going to stay at school until you know more than you do now."
"We'll see about that," was Tony's mental rejoinder. "I have tried my best more than a dozen times to induce him to let me leave school—I'd rather saw wood than pore over these books day after day—but he is bound to disregard all my wishes, and now I will see how he'll feel when he finds that I have disregarded his. I never can do anything I want to do as long as I stay here, and I'm going to make a break. I am going out into the world to begin life in earnest. I am off for salt water!"
As Tony said this, he closed his lips tightly and looked very determined, indeed.
CHAPTER XI. DOWN THE RIVER ON A COAL-BARGE.
Tony Richardson had never held five minutes conversation with a sailor, he had never seen the ocean or a ship, and the inquiry will very naturally arise: What could have put it into his head to go to sea? The idea was suggested to him through the same hurtful influence that had made a thief of Bob Owens, and sent him out into the world to make himself famous as a hunter and Indian fighter. Perhaps you don't believe that so simple a thing as reading a story could affect a boy's whole life? If so, what do you think of the following, which recently appeared in a Rochester paper? We have copied it just as it was printed, with these exceptions: the names of the culprits have been changed, and another substituted for that of the paper in which the story referred to appeared:
"BOYS' PAPERS AND INCENDIARISM.
"The speedy arrest of the 'fire-bugs,' who amused themselves two or three evenings in this city by firing buildings, was highly gratifying to our citizens, many of whom began to feel a little nervous over the operations of the young rascals. We refer to them and their work in this place because they afford another illustration of the pernicious influence upon boyish minds of evil literature. Damon, the elder of the two, is eighteen, and his companion, Volbets, is twelve years old. The former, when captured, had in his pocket two copies of the Boys of the Nation, one of those abominable sheets filled with wild stories of crime and adventure so fascinating to ill-disciplined minds, and he said that he was inspired to his criminal work by reading the story of 'Rory of the Hills; or, the Outlaws of Tipperary.' These boys had already burned down a house on Orchard street and a stave factory, when they were arrested, and they had planed to fire three more Wednesday night, if the detectives had not spoiled their game."
That proves, beyond a doubt, that stories have an effect of some kind, does it not? Tony Richardson had imbibed some very ridiculous ideas through the same channel. The story that made the greatest impression upon him was the "Phantom Cruiser," which he had read and re-read until he knew it almost by heart. It described the adventures and exploits of a boy who, after passing through all sorts of perils, such as shipwrecks, and battles with pirates, was finally turned adrift by a mutinous crew because he would not join his fortunes with theirs, and blown upon an uninhabited island in mid ocean. There he accidentally stumbled upon a bed of pearl oysters, of wonderful richness, and after he had loaded himself down with the valuable gems, he escaped from the island, and set out for home to reward his friends and excite the envy of all his enemies. Tony's thoughts often wondered off to that island when they ought to have been fixed on his books. They wandered off there now, while he was walking toward the depot with his father, and he hoped, and sometimes he believed, that his sailor life would have an ending quite as romantic and glorious.