The rabbits had enjoyed their liberty but three or four days, when one morning James discovered, to his astonishment, that they had completely stripped the bark, as high up as they could reach, from about thirty young apple and pear trees, which Mr. Preston had set out two or three years previous. The excitement which this discovery produced in the family was so great as almost to make even Jerry tremble for a while. The trees thus destroyed were choice varieties, and it would require several years’ time, as well as much care and money, to make good the loss. The blame was, of course, thrown entirely upon Jerry, to whom it belonged; and it was many days before he heard the last of the scolding and fretting in consequence of this mishap. As to the rabbits, he never saw them again; and, as he made no inquiries, he never knew what fate befel them. James, in the heat of his wrath, had despatched them both, without jury or trial, on the morning when their depredations were first discovered.
It was natural that Jerry should greatly miss Oscar, with whom he had associated continually, day and night, for several months. Indeed, he began to think seriously of running away from home, and going to Boston, that he might be with his cousin again, and participate with him in some of the marvellous scenes and adventures which Oscar had so often described. In his lonesomeness, Jerry now began to seek the company of Clinton more than ever. The district school soon commenced for the season, and as both boys attended it, they were thrown together much oftener than in the summer months. In going to and from school, Clinton had to pass Jerry’s house, and they usually kept each other company by the way. For some reason or other,—probably a suspicion that Clinton’s parents did not like him very well,—Jerry seldom went to Mr. Davenport’s house. Of course, Mr. Davenport did not know that any particular intimacy existed between his son and Jerry. He occasionally spoke of the latter as a boy whose end, he feared, would not be good; and more than once he expressed a wish that Clinton would avoid him as much as possible. But this, Clinton found it rather difficult to do. Jerry sought his company, and he could not bear to say no. He knew Jerry was a bad boy, and that he did wrong to put himself under his influence; but he had not sufficient decision of character to terminate an acquaintance which had been so long continued. So the intimacy was kept up, to the great injury of Clinton.
At school, Jerry was not only a dull scholar, but a very troublesome one. Having never been taught to obey at home, he was rude and ungovernable in the school-room, and was more frequently punished for disobedience and inattention to his duties than any other boy in the school. After the novelty had worn off, Jerry began to grow tired of attending, and occasionally played truant, always contriving, however, to escape detection, by representing that he was detained at home by his mother. But after a while these absences grew so frequent, that the master began to suspect all might not be right; and one morning, on calling Jerry to account for his absence the preceding afternoon, he told him he should not excuse him unless he brought a note from his mother in the afternoon, certifying that he was kept at home.
Jerry was put to his wit’s end, by this new and unexpected demand. He had been off on a skating frolic the afternoon previous, while his mother supposed him to be at school, and he could not, therefore, ask her for a note of excuse. What could he do? If he did not bring an excuse in the afternoon, he was afraid the matter would be investigated, and lead to the discovery of his other frequent truancies; and in this case, he knew he would not escape a severe punishment. At first he thought of writing a note himself, and signing his mother’s name to it; but then he wrote such an awkward hand, and was such a poor speller, that he was afraid he could not deceive the teacher. After thinking the matter over, all the forenoon, he at last resolved to do one of two things,—either to persuade some one to write the excuse for him, or else never to enter the school-room again.
When school was dismissed, Jerry walked home with Clinton, as usual. After they had got beyond the hearing of the other scholars, Jerry said:—
“Clinty, I’ve got into a bad scrape, and I don’t know how to get out of it, unless you help me.”
“How can I?” inquired Clinton, who at once comprehended the situation of affairs.
“I’ll tell you of a plan I’ve thought of,” continued Jerry; “and if you’ll only say yes, I guess we can fix it easy enough. You see it wont do for me to ask the old woman for a note,”—the old woman was the disrespectful title by which he usually spoke of his mother,—“and if I go to school without one, I’m afraid that old Eaton will find out that I’ve been playing truant all along, and he’ll give me a regular trouncing. Now if you will write the note, nobody will ever know the difference, for you can write just like a woman. I would do it myself, if I could write as well as you can.”
“What!” said Clinton, with some signs of astonishment; “you don’t mean that you want me to write an excuse, and sign your mother’s name to it, do you?”
“Yes, that’s it, exactly; unless you can tell me of a better way to get out of my trouble.”