Tom Newcombe; Or, the Boy of Bad Habits

by Harry Castlemon

“I wish father didn’t take any newspapers,” growled Tom, as he seated himself on the portico; “for then I might have a chance to talk to him. He wants me to go to school. I can see that plain enough; but I won’t do it if I can help it. I don’t like to be kept in at recess, or be told to remain after school every time I miss a hard arithmetic lesson. I must do something, however, and what shall it be? that’s the question.”

As Tom said this, he settled back on his elbow, took a rapid survey of his situation, and tried hard to think of some easy, pleasant business in which he could engage, that would bring him pleasure and profit at the same time.

In thus allowing his son to have full swing for awhile, Mr. Newcombe considered that he was taking the easiest and shortest course to convince Tom that he was making a great mistake. If the latter was compelled to attend school, he would still cling obstinately to the idea that every moment he devoted to his studies was time wasted. The merchant had tried every plan he could think of to convince him to the contrary, but without success; and his last idea promised to be as complete a failure as the others. Some of Tom’s playmates called him a “bull-headed boy,” and his father thought that, by his conduct, he was establishing a perfect claim to the title. He had his own opinions concerning men and things; and, although his failures would sometimes bring tears to his eyes, they never served to convince him that he was in the wrong. On the contrary, he always tried to lay the blame upon somebody else, all the while endeavoring to console himself with the hope that some fine day something would “turn up” in his favor, and that after that he would get along through the world smoothly and easily. He had waited for it long and patiently; but now his patience was severely tried, for he knew that if that something did not “turn up” very soon, he would find himself in school again; for he was well aware that that was what his father meant by “taking the matter into his own hands.”

Tom was sadly troubled with the “blues” again, and the only way he could think of to drive them off was to go down to the common and join the Night-hawks, who, judging by the shouts that now and then came to his ears, were out in full force. He was still considerably confused by the shock he had experienced when he discovered that another of his air castles had tumbled down about his ears—that his grand idea of farming was not exactly what he had imagined it to be—and thought an evening spent with the Night-hawks would serve to relieve his mind, so that on the morrow he would be better able to think over his troubles, and determine upon some course of action.

The law against going outside of the gate after dark was still in operation; but this did not turn Tom from his purpose, for he had evaded it so often without being detected, that the regulation had no terrors for him. If his father did not happen to want him, (and it was not at all probable he would, for, looking through the window, Tom could see that the merchant was still deeply interested in his papers,) his absence would not be discovered. But, in order to make himself secure, Tom walked slowly into the library, threw down his cap, yawned several times, stretching his arms, and acting altogether as though he was very sleepy, and finally went up stairs to his room. After locking the door to prevent surprise, he went into his closet after another cap; the one he generally wore he had purposely left in the library. As his room had been put in order soon after he left for the country, the cap was soon found; when, noiselessly opening his window, Tom crawled out upon the porch, and, after satisfying himself that the coast was clear, slid down one of the posts and reached the ground in safety. Here he paused and listened for a moment, to ascertain if the noise he made had attracted the attention of any one in the house; but all was quiet, and Tom, congratulating himself upon the skillful manner in which his escape had been accomplished, and which, he thought, ought to entitle him to especial praise from his boon companions, the Night-hawks, moved silently down the lawn, and presently found himself in the street. There was now no need of concealment; and Tom, anxious to join his friends as soon as possible, broke into a run, and, in a few moments, reached the common. It had become too dark to continue the games, and the Night-hawks were gathered in a group, in the middle of the common, engaged in a whispered conversation. At short distances on each side of the main body were four boys, who walked back and forth, like sentinels on guard; and, in fact, they were sentries, whose business it was to notify the Night-hawks of the approach of any “outsiders.” This made it evident that the boys were debating upon some question which they did not want every one to know. As the Night-hawks are now about to assume a somewhat important part in our story, they merit a more extended description than we have thus far given them.

The society (for it was a society, and a secret one, at that) had its origin in the fertile brain of Tom Newcombe, and was certainly an institution. It was customary for the boys in the village to assemble on the common after school hours, and amuse themselves with various games; and some of the boys remained until bed-time. After dark, the game of ball gave way to “Hounds and Deers,” and “Every Man to his Own Base;” and when these games had been played until all were tired of them, then came the question, “What shall we do next?” Among so many boys, of course there were some who were ready to propose plans for mischief, and others who were just as ready to assist them. At first, ringing door-bells, throwing down wood-piles, and removing gates, had been the favorite exploits; but these soon became “played out,” and something more exciting was demanded, such as robbing orchards and melon patches, and the like. They did not care a cent for the fruit, they said, but it was “such fun.” On several occasions the young rogues had been discovered, and some of their number fell into the hands of the enemy. The captured ones proved themselves to be utterly unworthy of the confidence of their fellows, by revealing the names of all those who were engaged in the mischief. This made all the boys, and especially Tom, very angry; but it never occurred to him to consider what he would have done had he been in the same predicament. It suggested an idea to him, and gave him something upon which to think and plan when he should have been studying his lessons. But if his geography and arithmetic suffered, the interests of his companions did not; for one day, after he had got his plans all matured, he startled some of his particular friends by proposing that a secret society be organized, under the name of the “Gentlemen’s Club,” of which he (Tom) was to be president. The idea was hailed with delight by the boys, who, having been given an insight into the objects of the society, set about hunting up recruits. None but those who were deemed trustworthy were admitted to membership, and the secret was closely guarded from all “Spooneys,” who, for a long time, were not aware that there was such a thing as a Gentlemen’s Club in existence.

In a few days the society was ready to begin work, and, the way it went about it, proved that Tom had not chosen a very appropriate name for his organization, for the conduct of its members bespoke them any thing but gentlemen. They commenced operations by marching, one night, in a body, to the residence of the doctor, where they proceeded to amuse themselves by carrying off the wood which was piled in front of his office. When their work was about half done, they were surprised, and their ranks thrown into confusion, by the sudden appearance of the owner of the wood, who flourished a heavy cane above his head, and, collaring one of the boys, pulled him into his office a prisoner. The doctor then demanded the names of all the boys who had engaged in the mischief but, for a long time, the discomfited member of the Gentlemen’s Club refused to comply. But when the physician threatened to lock him up in the cellar, and keep him there all night, the culprit changed his tactics, and even endeavored to convince his captor that he alone was to blame for all that had happened—that it was merely a “little joke” which he wished to play upon the doctor, and that no one had assisted him in carrying off the wood. The doctor, however, declared that he “couldn’t swallow any such nonsense as that;” and, striking his cane upon the table, fiercely repeated the demand, when the prisoner, to save himself from bodily harm, astonished the physician with a complete description of the society, its signs and pass-words, and the object for which it had been organized. After a good deal of cross-questioning, in a very savage tone of voice, the doctor released his captive; not, however, without obliging him to promise, over and over again, that he would always endeavor to be a good boy, and that he would be particularly careful to let people’s wood-piles alone in future.

The doctor was highly amused at what he had heard, and, although, while in the presence of his prisoner, he had appeared to be very much enraged, shaking his gray head, and thumping his cane violently on the floor, the moment the boy had gone, he threw himself into a chair and laughed until his fat sides ached. Considering the joke as too good to be kept, he repeated it to every one he met, and the Gentlemen’s Club was “knocked higher than a kite.” Tom, especially, had cause to regret that his companion had forgotten the solemn promises he had made, for almost every boy that passed him on the street would touch his cap and salute him with, “How are you, President Newcombe?” But Tom, and several other prominent members of the club, were not discouraged. They soon organized another society—from which the faithless member of the Gentlemen’s Club was, of course, excluded—with a new name, and different signs and pass-words. But this was also broken up by a member, who exposed the whole thing to revenge himself on Tom for something the latter had done. From the ruins of this society sprang the Night-hawks, which, being composed of those who, on more than one occasion, had proved themselves to be entirely reliable, had been in existence nearly a year, and, in spite of the efforts of “outsiders,” its secrets had been faithfully kept.

It was understood by the Night-hawks, that the society had been organized for “mutual protection;” and a clause in their constitution declared, that when any member was known to be in trouble, it was the duty of all to hasten to his assistance. This clause had been introduced by Tom, who, at the time, could not have told exactly what he meant by it; but, perhaps, we shall see how the law, which was framed by accident, proved to be of great use to some of the Night-hawks.

The operations of the society were conducted with great skill; but it had not been long in existence, before some of the village people began to believe that the boys were bent on mischief, and nothing else; and when the knowledge of this fact got abroad, it threatened, for a time, to annihilate the society. Many of its members received orders to remain at home after dark, which some of them did; while others found means to evade the law. Disobedience was considered an honor rather than a disgrace; and when a boy performed a feat like that which Tom had just accomplished, he was held up to his companions as an object worthy of emulation. This created a spirit of rivalry among the members, and, when any one performed an exploit worthy of especial notice, some one else always tried to outdo him.