Dewey and Other Naval Commanders | Page 3

more than once to
interpose his authority in a way that no lad is likely to forget.
Dr. Dewey was a man of deep religious convictions. In middle life he
gave up the practice of medicine and founded the National Life
Insurance Company, to whose interests he devoted his time and ability,
and met with a good degree of success. George was gifted by nature
with rugged health, high spirits and indomitable pluck and fearlessness.
None could surpass him in running, leaping, swimming and in boyish
sports. He was fond of fishing and of rough games, and as a fighter few
of his years could stand in front of him. In numerous athletic trials he
was invariably the victor, and it must be admitted that he loved fighting
as well as he liked playing ball or fishing. He gave and received hard
knocks, and even at that early age showed evidence of the combative,
aggressive courage that became so marked a feature of his manhood.
An incident is related by Z.K. Pangborn, the well known editor of New
Jersey, who took charge of the Montpelier school, in which George
Dewey was a pupil. The school was notorious for the roughness of a
number of its pupils, who had ousted more than one instructor and
welcomed the chance to tackle a new one. Master Dewey was the
ringleader of these young rebels, and chuckled with delight when the

quiet-looking, ordinary-sized teacher sauntered down the highway to
begin his duties in the schoolroom.
At the time of the gentleman's appearance George was sitting astride of
a big limb in a tree at the side of the road, his pockets bulging with
stones, which he was hurling with unpleasant accuracy at every one
who came within range. Several youngsters were howling from having
served as targets to the urchin up the tree, and as soon as Mr. Pangborn
saw how things were going he shouted to Dewey to stop his sport. The
boy replied by advising the teacher to go to the hottest region named in
works on theology, and, descending the tree, led several young scamps
in an attack upon the instructor. There was a lively brush, in which it
cannot be said that either party was the victor.
A drawn battle is always unsatisfactory to two armies, and George
determined to have it out in the schoolroom with the teacher, who,
expecting the struggle, had prepared for it and was as eager as the boys
for the fight. As before, Dewey was the leader in the attack on the
pedagogue, who was wiry, active, and strong. He swung his rawhide
with a vigor that made Dewey and the others dance, but they pluckily
kept up the assault, until the instructor seized a big stick, intended to
serve as fuel for the old-fashioned stove, and laid about him with an
energy that soon stretched the rebels on the floor.
Then how he belabored them! As fast as one attempted to climb to his
feet he was thumped back again by the club that continually whizzed
through the air, and if a boy tried to stay the storm by remaining prone,
the instructor thumped him none the less viciously. Indeed, matters had
got to that point that he enjoyed the fun and was loath to let up, as he
felt obliged to do, when the howling rebels slunk to their seats,
thoroughly cowed and conquered.
George Dewey was the most battered of the lot and made a sorry sight.
In fact, he was so bruised that his teacher thought it prudent to
accompany him to his home and explain to his father the particulars of
the affray in school. Mr. Pangborn gave a detailed history of the
occurrence, to which Dr. Dewey listened gravely. When he understood
everything, he showed his good sense by thanking the teacher for

having administered the punishment, asking him to repeat it whenever
the conduct of his son made it necessary.
This chastisement marked a turning point in the boy's career. He did a
good deal of serious thinking throughout the day, and saw and felt his
wrongdoing. He became an attentive, obedient pupil, and years after,
when grown to manhood, he warmly thanked Mr. Pangborn for having
punished him with such severity, frankly adding: "I believe if you
hadn't done so I should have ended my career in the penitentiary."
Dr. Dewey wished to give George a career in the army, and he sent him
to Norwich University, a military training school, in order to fit him for
the Military Academy at West Point. George's tastes, however, were for
the navy, and after much pleading with his father he brought him to his
way of thinking. The utmost that Dr. Dewey could do was to secure the
appointment of