Books: Master Sunshine
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Mrs. C. F. Fraser >> Master Sunshine
Though there were many things about the service that he could not
understand, yet it always pleased him to think that so many people
had come together to do honor to God. It seemed so like the Old
Testament times, when the people went up to Jerusalem to worship
the Lord.
Sunday-school took up another hour of the day, and the lessons
there were always easy to understand. Miss Bell, his young
teacher, had always pictures to show them of the places they read
about; and there were texts and hymns to recite, and the class
missionary box to put pennies in.
But what Master Sunshine looked forward to most of all was the
Sunday afternoon walk with his father. Usually they would ramble
off to the woods or to some quiet by-road, and talk over all the
doings of the week. And if Master Sunshine had done anything that
was mean or selfish, he was sure to tell about it then.
"Any boy can be good on Sunday, when his father is with him,"
explained Master Sunshine; "it's on the week-days, when there
isn't a man round, that he is most apt to get into trouble. And I
tell you the worst about me, father, so you won't think I'm a
better boy than I really am."
It was always so comforting to talk things over, even if he had
been doing wrong; for he was always sure of understanding and
sympathy and good advice.
"I often wish every boy and his father were chums like us," he
said once. "Now, when Tommy Dane gets in trouble, he is always
afraid to go to his father, and his mother is too busy to be
bothered; so he just has to go to some of the school-boys. Of
course, they don't know much better than he does; and their advice
is just as apt as not to be wrong, and poor Tommy finds himself in
worse trouble than ever.
"Only last week he burst the class foot-ball by standing on it,
and the boys said he must buy another. He had no money; but they
told him to sell something of his own, and use the money to buy
another ball. So he sent the silver mug that his aunt gave him
when he was a baby, up to town, and it sold for enough to buy a
new ball. Then the teacher wanted to know how it was that the boys
happened to have so much money, and Mrs. Dane missed the silver
mug. Mr. Dane came to the school and took Tommy home, and he was,
oh, so angry with him! He said, 'he was disgraced because his son
was a thief,'" and Master Sunshine's tone grew very indignant.
"You see, father, that if Tommy had only gone to some one like you
at the first, there would have been no trouble at all."
"And what do you think I would have advised in such a case?" asked
Mr. Norton, much interested in the little tale.
Master Sunshine looked at him wonderingly.
"Why, father," he said, "don't you remember about me breaking the
great pane of glass in the schoolhouse window? You lent me the
money to pay for having it put in, and I had to give you my
allowance for ever so long until I made it all up."
"But would Tommy's father have done as much for him?" questioned
Mr. Norton.
"If they were chums like you and me I am sure he would," answered
Master Sunshine promptly.
"And do you think Tommy did right to sell his mug?" asked Mr.
Norton, much interested as to what his son would say.
"The mug was his own, so I don't think it was stealing to take
it," said Master Sunshine slowly; "but of course it was not right
for him to take it away without letting his people know. There are
lots of things in our house that were given to me, and are mine to
use and have; but they are not mine to sell and give away like my
toys and tops. You never told me so, but I always knew there were
two ways of owning things."
"We have no flowers for mother yet," said Mr. Norton, dismissing
the subject as he rose from the rock on which they had been
resting. "I wonder what we can find for her to-day."
How well they knew where to look, and how many happy exclamations
came from Master Sunshine as they discovered a clump of ferns just
unfolding from the green balls in which Dame Nature had securely
packed them.
In a marshy spot, a host of white violets sent up their dainty
perfume; and close by the bed of a tiny brook, a scarlet trilium
showed its velvety petals. A sunny hillside was covered with deep
purple violets, while under the roadside there were trails of
winter-berry vines still green and fresh in spite of the snows
that had lain on them; and here and there were the satiny blossoms
of the glossy-leaved pigeon-berry.
A pair of keel-tailed blackbirds were building in a tall tree
overhead; and the sweet, clear notes of one of them delighted
Master Sunshine until he heard the mate answering back with a
harsh, scraping noise not unlike a dull saw making its way through
a log of knotted wood. A robin gave a mellow chirp; and the
Peabody bird was filling the air with its sweet, sad strain.
It was always very hard to leave the woods and fields at such
times. They were so full of life and brightness, and there always
seemed a special Sunday calm about.
But there were the home people to consider. Lucy would be awake
now from her afternoon nap, and would be longing for her romp with
her "fazzer man;" and mother would be so delighted with her
flowers, and Master Sunshine would be needed to help arrange them;
while Almira Jane was sure to be wondering what was keeping "the
folks" so late. The Sunday tea would be ready for them too--and a
specially good tea it always was. There would be slices of cold
meat spread on a platter of parsley; and the thinnest slices of
bread-and-butter on the best bread-plates, and frosted cake; and,
most likely, peach or strawberry preserves from the jam-cupboard.
Almira Jane was sure to be in good humor too; for there was little
work to do on Sunday, and she seldom got a chance to be "nervous"
on the day of rest, and like as not Jacob would walk home with her
after evening church; while in the cosey sitting-room mother would
play on the piano, and Master Sunshine and his father would join
in singing their favorite hymns.
CHAPTER V.
BEING A HERO.
"There'll be no rain to-day," said Almira Jane as Master Sunshine
slipped off gayly to school next morning. "Your geese are sure to
be good weather-prophets, and I notice that they are dressing
their feathers and diving comfortably in the little duck-pond."
"And what would they be doing if it were going to rain?" inquired
Master Sunshine.
"Geese always get noisy and fidgety before storms," answered
Almira Jane. "That was partly what was the matter with the
Wanderer and his Wife the day you brought them here. They were
doing their best to tell you that there was trouble in the air."
"There is a great lot of sense, after all, even in creatures that
people think are foolish," thought Master Sunshine to himself as
he set off. Then he turned to wave his hand to his mother, who
threw a kiss at him from an upper window as he disappeared down
the road.
Tommy and he strolled along, swinging their school satchels as
they went. Presently a sound came to them on the still, morning
air, something like a frightened yet angry sob, then a noise as of
distant laughter.
"I wonder what the boys are up to to-day," said Tommy, with a
lively look of interest.
Master Sunshine said nothing, but broke from a walk into a smart
run. He was just a bit afraid that his friend, the half-witted
boy, was in trouble.
Sure enough! when they had turned the sharp bend in the road, they
came to the scene of the mischief. And then, somehow, all Master
Sunshine's smiles vanished, and a sad, troubled expression fell on
his face.
A group of schoolboys were teasing Billy Butler, by calling him
mocking names, and even by throwing balls of soft mud at him;
while poor Billy was growing white with rage and was gesticulating
wildly.
It was not the first time that the schoolboys had made a butt of
poor Billy; and Master Sunshine wished, oh, so much! that he were
not quite so young and small. He was sure that these big boys
would not stop their rude play for him.
Tommy was by his side now, and the boys were calling to them to
join the crowd. Tommy looked rather undecided. He knew well enough
that the boys were doing wrong, but he feared they would laugh at
him unless he took part too; but Master Sunshine could not stand
the sight.
"Come, Dick, make the boys stop teasing Billy," cried he, going up
to the big boy who was leading in the rude sport. "He has never
done you any harm."
Dick looked angrily around. "Listen to bow-legged Norton," he
answered rudely.
"Run along," jeered another; "you better go and play with the a-b-c
boys at the schoolhouse."
Master Sunshine could not bear to be teased; but neither had he
the heart to turn away when Billy's eyes were following him so
piteously. His mind was quite made up now, and his temper was
rising fast.
"If you can do without me, you can do without Billy too," he said
firmly, making his way through the group. "You can call me any
names you like, and throw mud if you want to; but I'm not going to
leave Billy till he can go safely home."
The boys looked at one another in amazement. Here was Fred Norton
dictating to them what they should and should not do,--a little
chap who had scarcely been a year at school.
For a moment they were too surprised to make any objection; and
Master Sunshine had actually elbowed his way through the crowd,
and, with Billy by the hand, was making his way back towards home
before they realized what was happening.
Then a rude lad threw a great handful of mud that spattered on
Master Sunshine's back, and another cried, "Look at his bow-legs."
Master Sunshine looked back at his tormentors, for the taunt was
harder to bear than the mud itself. The boys were quick to see
this, and a half dozen of them at once joined in the teasing
chorus: "Did you ever see such legs? Before I'd have crooked legs
like that?"
And then his first tormentor would set in with the taunt of "Bow-
legged Norton! bow-legged Norton!"
But somehow the fun was quite gone out of it now. A number of the
better-minded boys had left the group, and were walking quietly
along. Tommy was talking vigorously to them.
"Fred Norton is all right," he exclaimed; "he's as manly and
honest as he can be. He can't bear to see anything ill-treated,
not even a dog; and it is just like him to take Billy's part."
"He made me feel small somehow," said Ralph, the largest boy of
all. "I suppose I could have stopped the row if I'd thought, but I
was afraid the fellows would be angry at me for spoiling their
sport. I'll not let them tease him any more, though;" and at a
sharp word from him the boys ceased their rude fun.
Master Sunshine was quite late for school that morning, and when
he did arrive he was so flushed in the face, and so muddy in his
dress, that Mr. Sinclair the teacher guessed that something was
amiss; and a few quiet questions at recess brought out part of the
story from Tommy, who was but too delighted to sing his friend's
praises.
That afternoon when lessons were over, Mr. Sinclair gathered his
pupils about him. "Boys," he said, "something that happened to-day
makes me afraid that some of you do not know what manliness means;
and, if there is a boy among you who does not wish to grow into a
manly man, I would like him to leave the schoolroom now."
Tommy Dane turned around and looked very hard at Dick, who had
been the chief of Billy's persecutors; but the boy, though looking
very shame-faced, made no effort to move.
"Some of you," continued the master, "have been making Billy
Butler very unhappy. Do you think the boy has too much pleasure in
his life?"
Every boy there made a picture to himself of Billy's life, and
wondered what the master could mean. Billy's home was the worst in
the village, his parents were often unkind to him, his clothes
were always in rags, he had no friends to play with, no one ever
thought of asking him to a party or a picnic or even to play
quietly in the back yard. He had never even had a chum.
The teacher read their thoughts very easily. "Then," said he, "if
he has no pleasures, why do you not try giving him a few instead
of making his life a burden. A manly boy tries to do what good he
can to his fellow-creatures, and it seems that the manliest boy
among you is one of the youngest pupils."
The boys looked at Master Sunshine as he spoke, for they knew that
his words could have but one meaning. Some of them smiled as they
did so; but Dick looked away again quickly, as if there was
something in the sight that he could not bear.
Master Sunshine was sound asleep. His head, all a glitter with its
yellow curls, was cradled on his arm. There were bits of the dried
mud still clinging to the back of his coat. Even the boys who
smiled were deeply touched. They remembered then what a very
little boy he was, and they did not wonder that the excitement of
the morning and the work of the day had quite exhausted him.
There was something like a tear in Dick's hard gray eyes.
"Boys," continued the teacher, "tell me what is your idea of a
hero."
"A man who does what is right whether he likes to or not," said
Ralph, who was feeling much ashamed of his share in the morning's
doings.
"A man who defends the weak," said Tommy proudly. The teacher
nodded.
"You are both right," said he; "and I hope from this out to have
not one, but a whole roomful of heroes."
When the breaking-up of school aroused Master Sunshine, he rubbed
his eyes open and stared about wonderingly. He could not think
what had made him do such a silly thing as to go to sleep in
school.
The boys crowded around him as he said good-by to Mr. Sinclair and
started for home. Tommy grabbed his books, another lad gave him a
little penknife with a tortoise-shell handle, and a third offered
him a great, shiny, winter apple.
These delicate attentions were so unexpected that Master Sunshine
was quite bewildered, and he was even more puzzled and perhaps a
little frightened, when Dick caught him up upon his shoulder, and
carried him home in state.
It was all so new and so unexpected, and he was so tired, that he
did not ask why it was that the boys, led by Mr. Sinclair, gave
three rousing cheers for the "hero of Hill-top school" just as he
and his bearer went out of the school gate.
He half dozed again, even on his high perch; and it was not until
the shrill voices of the Wanderer and his Wife warned him, that he
realized that he was home at last and that another rainstorm was
drawing near.
CHAPTER VI.
KIND DEEDS.
On Friday afternoons Mr. Sinclair usually gave his pupils a very
pleasant hour just before closing. Of late he had been reading
aloud "Beautiful Joe," and all had been interested in the story of
the intelligent dog.
Tommy Dane listened intently to every word, and was quick to put
in practice every kind suggestion; while Master Sunshine smiled
his approval of the familiar tale, for his own copy of the book
was much thumbed from constant reading. He felt very happy to
think that so many boys who had pets were learning how to take
care of them properly. But he was quite as surprised as the rest
of the lads when, at the close of the reading that week, Mr.
Sinclair leaned over his desk and said, "Boys, I am not going to
read to you next Friday afternoon."
A little murmur of disappointment ran around the room. "Instead,"
he continued, smiling down at their troubled faces, "I want you to
entertain me. The book we have been reading teaches us kindness to
animals, and I should like to hear from each one of you of some
thoughtful act that has made the lives of the dependent creatures
about you a little happier."
"I know plenty of people who drive their horses too hard, and half
starve them into the bargain," interrupted one of the boys.
Mr. Sinclair raised his hand. "I am sorry to say that I know of a
few such people myself," he answered; "but we are not talking
about them now. There are many people who are kind to their four-
legged servants and pets, and I want you to learn by their
example. Each one is to tell in his own words of some kind deed
that he has a personal knowledge of, and after that we will see
what is to be done."
You can imagine how busy the boys were all that week. They asked
questions by the thousands of all their friends. They prowled
about barns and henneries and rabbit hutches until the people in
the village woke up to the idea that the boys of Hill-top school
were taking a lively interest in the welfare of all animals.
"Give my horses an extra ration of oats and rub them down well,
Jacob," said Banker Patterson, with a twinkle in his eye. "I
wouldn't like to be reported for cruelty to animals, and I notice
that young Tommy Dane and that yellow-headed Norton are eying my
turnout very curiously." Jacob chuckled over the joke, for he well
knew that the banker's horses were the best attended to in the
village.
"They say," said Jacob, "that Master Sunshine, as they call that
Norton boy, is at the bottom of the whole business;" and thereupon
he told the story to his employer of how the brave little fellow
had protected Billy Butler.
"A fine boy that and a promising one," said Mr. Patterson
cordially; "but surely," he added, with a slight frown, "he did
not tell you of it himself?"
"Not he," laughed Jacob; "but Tommy Dane has been full of it ever
since; and Almira Jane, the help over at the cottage, has told me
too. I guess it is owing to her good sense as much as anything
else that he's turned out so well."
And perhaps it was as well that Jacob did not see the merry
twinkle in the banker's eye at his words. It was surprising how
much Mr. Patterson knew of what went on in the village.
One thing was sure. None of the boys' pets suffered during that
week. They had never thought so much of them before; and presently
Friday afternoon came, and Mr. Sinclair, leaning back comfortably
in his chair, was asking for their stories.
He began with Master Sunshine, because he was the youngest of all;
and the little fellow explained how he had learned during the week
that heavy hens like his Cochin Chinas should be given low roosts
because it was such an effort for them to lift their unwieldy
bodies.
"Mine have all been made low now," he added eagerly; "and Almira
Jane says that it is a good common sense-ical idea."
They all smiled a little over the way he brought in Almira Jane's
name and her funny word. But they had come to have such respect
for the manly little fellow that no one laughed aloud.
Then Tommy told how Jacob had taught him to be kind to a pretty
colt which his father was bringing up.
"I always thought it was fun to play with it. I often teased it
just to make it kick out with its front feet," he said; "but I
know now that that sort of teasing, though it does not hurt the
colt at the time, teaches it the habit of kicking. A kicking horse
is almost worse than no horse at all."
"The thing I know about happened last winter," said his seat-mate.
"There was plenty of snow and ice about, but nothing for the birds
to drink; so my sister used to put a saucer of water on the
window-ledge each morning. The birds would come from a long way
off to get a sip from it, and they were always glad to pick up a
few crumbs she strewed for them."
"Mine is a bird story too," said an observant-looking boy; "but
the kindness was done by birds, instead of by people. Last week
when a bill-poster was pasting up some advertisements on our barn,
a sparrow perched on the edge of the bucket, and got his feet and
the tips of his wing-feathers all covered with paste."
"I meant to catch him and try to tame him, but the bill-poster
said to wait and see what happened next; and sure enough, two
other sparrows came and flew in circles above his head, and
chirped to him as if they were talking over what could be done. At
last he managed to loosen his claws from the paste, and to move
his wings ever so little. The birds, one on each side of him,
helped him to the trough by the side of the road, and he splashed
in the water until the paste was quite washed off."
"And what did this very curious sight make you think of?" said Mr.
Sinclair, suddenly leaning over his desk, and looking at the lad.
The boy colored deeply as he said, "It made me think of my string
of birds' eggs at home, and my collection of birds' nests. I
promised myself then that I would never, never do anything to
injure birds again. I thought that if they knew enough to be kind
to each other I ought to know enough to be kind to them."
It seemed as if there were no end to the good deeds of which the
lads had taken note.
One had seen an old man digging burdock-roots from the corner of a
sheep-field; and, when he offered his help, had learned how
troublesome the burdock-burrs were to all woolly or hairy animals.
Another had much to say of a lamb-creep that had been arranged so
as to give the young lambs a fair share of food. The older sheep
too often pushed the young ones aside when feeding-time came, and
their owner had built a little fold, into which only the small
lambs could enter, where a portion of the food was always placed.
All the lambs in his flock were plump and thriving, while in his
neighbor's pastures, where the lambs were left to fight for
themselves, they were thin, miserable-looking creatures.
Some told of how thoughtful people kept water always where the pet
dogs could get it; and others of the care that should be given to
canaries and to goldfish; and the happy hour was nearly over when
Mr. Norton said, "Now, Dick, you have told us nothing. Before we
break up school for to-day I would like to hear what you have to
say."
Dick shook his head but his teacher knew that he had been
listening intently to all that went on, and was very hopeful that
at last he had found a way to the heart of his scholar.
"Let me tell for him, please," interrupted Master Sunshine. "He's
been doing kind things all the week for poor Billy Butler. He dug
him a garden last Saturday night, and has filled it with plants
from his own garden."
"Ah!" said the teacher, well pleased at the report. "Dick, I think
you have done best of all;" and the boys thumped on the floor with
their heavy boots, and banged the covers of the desks, to show
their appreciation of the good deed.
CHAPTER VII.
A HAPPY ENDING.
Just as Mr. Sinclair laid his hand on the bell to give the signal
for dismissal, a handsome carriage drove to the door. The boys all
stared out of the window at the unusual sight. Banker Patterson
was helping a lady to alight, and the lady was none other than
Almira Jane. Jacob was smiling down from the driver's seat at the
queer couple.
Master Sunshine rubbed his eyes in bewilderment. What could Almira
Jane be doing there? and what could be in that great basket that
Jacob was handing down to her? It looked very much like the great
picnic-basket that hung in the kitchen pantry!
And now it was the banker's turn to be loaded up. Jacob gave him
several heavy parcels, and finally jumped from his perch and
carrying very carefully an odd-shaped package, led the way to the
school door. Billy Butler was standing not far off. He had no fear
of the schoolboys now, and sometimes came to the gate when school
was dismissed to nod to each one he knew, and to say the names
over in his hoarse voice. Jacob called out to him in a friendly
tone, and the boy followed him to the school steps.
Mr. Sinclair was as much surprised as his pupils at the arrival of
his visitors; but he hastily gave them seats, and was about to
call for classes again, when Mr. Patterson said in his big round
voice,--
"Young people, I have not come here to examine your progress in
your studies, but to tell you how delighted I am with the work you
have been at this week. I have never felt so proud of the Hill-top
schoolboys before, and I want to ask you to keep on as you have
begun.
"I'm afraid I have not always been as thoughtful for my animal
friends as I could wish; but, watching a little neighbor of mine
whose pets require a great deal of care, and whose master is
devoted to them, has made me think a little more of the matter."
Master Sunshine smiled over at Tommy as much as to say, "Do you
hear him praising you?" for the little fellow did not even dream
that it was his love for his pets and his brave conduct towards
Billy Butler which had brought about this visit.
"If you boys," continued the banker, "will study the needs of all
the animals about us, and keep on talking about all the kind deeds
you learn of, we shall soon have a model village, where every
horse and cow, and lamb and dog and cat, will be comfortably
looked after.
"I have heard that your good teacher, Mr. Sinclair, has been
wishing for a school library for you," he continued, "so I have
to-day brought my contribution towards it." And as the banker
spoke he untied the great bundles of handsomely bound natural
history books enriched with many beautiful colored pictures, and a
number of volumes of stories of animals.
"I am sure," he added, "that the more you know about our animal
friends the more interested you will be in their welfare. I have
learned with a great deal of interest that one of you is planning
to erect a drinking-fountain in the village when he is a man. Now,
suppose, instead of waiting till that somewhat distant day, that
we make a bargain. If you will endeavor for a whole year to make
the lives of all helpless creatures happy, I will for my part
promise to put up a fountain where men and horses and dogs and
birds may have a refreshing drink. But remember, I will not do
this until I am sure that you have done your part faithfully. This
is a miniature copy of the fountain I am willing to erect."