CHAPTER XXIII.
THE CHARITY SCHOOL.
As we have already stated, Mr. Byers was very fond of children, and in return, the children were greatly attached to him. In his walks over the hills and along the seashore, he was never without companions, first and foremost among whom, ranked the Greysons and Grimsbys. As the years passed on, his followers increased so rapidly in stature and wisdom, that the old man often contemplated them in silent astonishment, more particularly little Tommy, who, from a tender yearling, had progressed to a stout little fellow of some three or four years, and scorning longer to be a mere portable, used his powers of locomotion to great advantage.
As Mr. Byers was deeply impressed with a sense of his own moral responsibility, he endeavored at all times to instruct as well as amuse the children. He discoursed to them very learnedly upon the nature and habits of shell-fish—directed their young minds to the untiring industry of the wild-bees, and at one time occupied their attention a full half hour, with a lecture upon the rise and progress of mushrooms, which was occasioned by finding a mammoth specimen in a swampy hollow.
For these reasons, the appearance of Mr. Byers at nightfall, was a matter of no slight interest to the young people of the village, and he was seldom seen, at that time, without a large group of children about him, of all sizes and colors. The good old man received all, and rejected none, although there were several among his followers who were highly objectionable. Prominent among these was a big boy of fifteen, familiarly known among the children as “black Jake.” To the little ones, his very personal appearance rendered him an object of terror, but the older children had far more forcible reasons for their aversion to him. He had several times been in the House of Correction, and would have been there oftener, had he not managed to escape the vigilance of the law. He smoked and swore as freely as a much older person, and was always ready for any sort of desperate undertaking. There seemed, however, to be more of mischief than malice in his composition, for although he was constantly playing tricks upon his companions, yet he was very careful not to do them any personal injury, and if he robbed them of anything in sport, he was ready to restore fourfold the next moment. Only when his temper was fairly aroused, was black Jake perfectly formidable, and then he was a very lion. Few grown people dared oppose his wrath at such times, for he was entirely reckless as to what he did. For several weeks he had attended the village school, but after creating a general rebellion, and whipping the master, he turned his back with contempt upon the halls of learning, and took to the more congenial employment of hunting and fishing. In some unaccountable way he had become the possessor of a gun, and it was his constant companion night and day. He was continually prowling about the woods in search of game, and oftentimes the school girls, upon their berrying excursions, had been frightened half out of their wits by the sudden discharge of Jake’s fowling piece close to their ears, or equally alarmed by his springing from the bushes directly among them when they least thought him near.
At one time, a benevolent minister in the village had taken him under his especial protection, in the hopes of reforming and regenerating him; but he finally dismissed him in despair, declaring openly that he believed the boy was “totally depraved.” After this fall from favor, Jake’s last estate was worse than his first, and he was left by friends and foes to work out his own destiny.
Of course, therefore, it was with no slight regret that Mr. Byers beheld Jake among his little company, but he said nothing, for there were several others of the same stamp, and he could by no means reject them. His heart was drawn out with the tenderest sympathy towards the little group that surrounded him, and, to use the language of Scripture—“he had compassion on them, because they were as sheep without a shepherd.” Night and day he was continually revolving in his mind some benevolent purpose concerning them, and finally, a suggestion presented itself, which he readily accepted. Without delay he hastened to Hesper and laid his plan before her.
“Look here,” he said, as he came into the kitchen and found her alone, “I have an excellent project in view, but I want you to help me;—the fact is, I can’t do anything without your assistance. I will tell you what it is: As I was walking with the children to-night, I thought all at once that you, and I, and a few others, could open an evening charity school, so that all these poor children who couldn’t or wouldn’t go to school in the daytime, could have an opportunity to learn which otherwise they would not. Now what do you think of it? Isn’t it an excellent idea? Come, say yes, directly,” said the old man, with great animation.
“Well, yes,” replied Hesper, thoughtfully, “but, then, we shall want a hall and lights, and books and stationery.”