Whereupon the famous general, hero of many battles, held out his honored hand, and took Dirk's in a cordial grasp. I don't suppose I could explain to you what an effect this action had on a boy like Dirk.
There is this comfort: you may be a student of human nature, and therefore may understand it all without explanation.
This is only one of many so-called trifles which occurred during the weeks, to make their indelible impress on the characters of the boys.
Of course, the Monday Evenings prospered. Reading-lessons and writing-lessons, and, as time passed, lessons of all sorts made good progress.
Neatly-blackened boots, carefully-arranged hair, and fresh collars became the rule instead of the exception.
Other avenues for improvement opened. It became noised abroad in Christian circles that great transformations were being worked among a certain set of hard young fellows who had hitherto been best known to the police. Mr. Roberts was interviewed by one and another, and one outgrowth of the talks was that tickets for a course of expensive and valuable and attractive lectures on popular subjects were placed in large numbers in Mr. Roberts' hands for him to use at discretion. Moreover, seats were rented in the church towards which most of the boys gravitated—the one connected with their Mission; seats re-rented after Mr. Roberts' plan, so that as often as there appeared a young man who cared to have a spot in the church which belonged to him, it could be had for a very small sum; in fact, as pews rented in that church, a ridiculously small sum.
These are only hints of the channels which time and patience and thought opened for these young men, on whom, but a short time before, Satan believed himself to have so firm a grip.
One feature of the “Monday Evenings” had, in the course of time, to be changed. The young teacher of elocution went home.
“I want to go,” she said at last, in answer to her hostess' pleading. “I think it quite likely that papa would let me stay and attend school here; but I am in haste to get home. You need not look sober, Flossy. I have had a happier time than I have ever had in my life before; and I have found here a sort of happiness that will last. It almost breaks my heart to think of leaving those boys,—especially my dear Dick Bolton; but really, I need to go home and undo certain things that I left badly done. You don't half know me, Flossy Shipley. When I came here I was a regular goose. If you had known what a simpleton I was, and how hateful I had been about some things at home, you would never have invited me.
“Among other things that were hateful about me, I was a real horror to my mother. I thought I had reason to distrust and dislike her; when the truth is that I have cause to go down on my knees and thank her for keeping me from some things. I'm in a real hurry to get home, and show that young mother of mine what a perfectly angelic daughter I can be.”