After a few minutes’ absence they again returned, and Mr. Davenport had commenced reading it anew.
“He’s reading it over again,—you may know he doesn’t like it,” whispered Clinton, when they were beyond his hearing; and the hearts of both sank within them.
The next time they approached the doorway, Mr. Davenport had finished reading the paper, but seemed to be so absorbed in thought that he did not notice the boys. They turned to go away again, when he suddenly called to them, and they went back, feeling like a couple of culprits.
“I was thinking,” he said, “of deferring my judgment of this dialogue for an hour or so, until I could collect my thoughts a little better; but, as I see you are in considerable suspense, I won’t ask you to wait any longer. And, to begin, I think you have executed your task very well indeed, in a literary point of view. The dialogue is natural and sprightly, and the whole arrangement is very good, and does you much credit. And yet, I can’t say I am wholly pleased with the piece. Like many other authors, I think you have been unfortunate in the choice of a subject. Whose idea was it,—who suggested the plot?”
“It was my idea,” replied Clinton; “Willie told me the story, and I thought it would make a good subject for a dialogue.”
“Ah! it is founded on fact, is it?” inquired Mr. Davenport.
“Yes, sir; it is almost word for word what happened in our school, once,” replied Whistler.
“Well, I will tell you plainly what my objections are,” continued Mr. Davenport. “They are of a purely moral nature, and perhaps you will not feel their force so much as I do. In the first place, I don’t like the fighting scene. I think it is so brutal and wicked for boys to maul each other in that way, that I would not encourage it, even by imitating it in sport. Besides, children are great imitators, and it wouldn’t be strange if some little fellows, after seeing your dialogue represented, should try to play off a fight on their own hook; and perhaps they might get in earnest before they were through with it. And then, again, seeing a sham fight, like yours, might strengthen a taste which too many boys have for witnessing real battles, in which bloody noses and torn clothing are the prizes. I presume you didn’t think of these things; but don’t you see there is some force in them?”
“Yes, sir,” replied Clinton.
“But they represent such things at the theatres,” suggested Whistler.