TARLTON.
Delightful task! to rear the tender thought,—
To teach the young idea how to shoot,—
To pour the fresh instruction o’er the mind,—
To breathe th’ enlivening spirit,—and to fix
The generous purpose in the glowing breast.Thomson.
Young Hardy was educated by Mr. Freeman, a very excellent master, at one of our rural Sunday schools. He was honest, obedient, active and good-natured, hence he was esteemed by his master; and being beloved by all his companions who were good, he did not desire to be loved by the bad; nor was he at all vexed or ashamed when idle, mischievous or dishonest boys attempted to plague or ridicule him. His friend Loveit, on the contrary, wished to be universally liked, and his highest ambition was to be thought the best natured boy in the school—and so he was. He usually went by the name of Poor Loveit, and everybody pitied him when he got into disgrace, which he frequently did, for though he had a good disposition, he was led to do things which he knew to be wrong merely because he could never have the courage to say “No,” because he was afraid to offend the ill-natured, and could not bear to be laughed at by fools.
One fine autumn evening, all the boys were permitted to go out to play in a pleasant green meadow near the school. Loveit and another boy, called Tarlton, began to play a game of battledore and shuttlecock, and a large party stood by to look on, for they were the best players at battledore and shuttlecock in the school, and this was a trial of skill between them. When they had got it up to three hundred and twenty, the game became very interesting. The arms of the combatants tired that they could scarcely wield the battledores. The shuttlecock began to waver in the air; now it almost touched the ground, and now, to the astonishment of the spectators, mounted again high over their heads: yet the strokes became feebler and feebler; and “Now, Loveit!” “Now, Tarlton!” resounded on all sides. For another minute the victory was doubtful; but at length the setting sun, shining full in Loveit’s face, so dazzled his eyes that he could no longer see the shuttlecock, and it fell at his feet.
After the first shout for Tarlton’s triumph was over, everybody exclaimed, “Poor Loveit! he’s the best natured fellow in the world! What a pity that he did not stand with his back to the sun!”
“Now, I dare you all to play another game with me,” cried Tarlton, vauntingly; and as he spoke, he tossed the shuttlecock up with all his force—with so much force that it went over the hedge and dropped into a lane, which went close beside the field. “Hey-day!” said Tarlton, “what shall we do now?”
The boys were strictly forbidden to go into the lane; and it was upon their promise not to break this command, that they were allowed to play in the adjoining field.
No other shuttlecock was to be had and their play was stopped. They stood on the top of the bank, peeping over the hedge. “I see it yonder,” said Tarlton; “I wish somebody would get it. One could get over the gate at the bottom of the field, and be back again in half a minute,” added he, looking at Loveit. “But you know we must not go into the lane,” said Loveit, hesitatingly. “Pugh!” said Tarlton, “why, now, what harm could it do?”
“I don’t know,” said Loveit, drumming upon his battledore; “but—”
“You don’t know, man! why, then, what are you afraid of, I ask you?” Loveit coloured, went on drumming, and again, in a lower voice, said “he didn’t know.” But upon Tarlton’s repeating, in a more insolent tone, “I ask you, man, what you’re afraid of?” he suddenly left off drumming, and looking round, said, “he was not afraid of anything that he knew of.”