Now or Never | Page 9

you go to work?"
"I do work."
"No, you don't; you waste your time paddling in the river."
"I don't."
"You had better teach this boy manners too, marm," said the creditor, who, like all men of small souls, was willing to take advantage of the power which the widow's indebtedness gave him. "He is saucy."
"I should like to know who taught you manners, Mr. Hardhand," replied Bobby, whose indignation was rapidly getting the better of his discretion.
"What!" growled Mr. Hardhand, aghast at this unwonted boldness.
"I heard what you said before I came in; and no decent man would go to the house of a poor woman to insult her."
"Humph! Mighty fine," snarled the little old man, his gray eyes twinkling with malice.
"Don't, Bobby; don't be saucy to the gentleman," interposed his mother.
"Saucy, marm? You ought to horsewhip him for it. If you don't, I will."
"No, you won't!" replied Bobby, shaking his head significantly. "I can take care of myself."
"Did any one ever hear such impudence!" gasped Mr. Hardhand.
"Don't, Bobby, don't," pleaded the anxious mother.
"I should like to know what right you have to come here and abuse my mother," continued Bobby, who could not restrain his anger.
"Your mother owes me money, and she doesn't pay it, you young scoundrel!" answered Mr. Hardhand, foaming with rage.
"That is no reason why you should insult her. You can call me what you please, but you shall not insult my mother while I'm round."
"Your mother is a miserable woman, and----"
"Say that again, and though you are an old man, I'll hit you for it. I'm big enough to protect my mother, and I'll do it."
Bobby doubled up his fists and edged up to Mr. Hardhand, fully determined to execute his threat if he repeated the offensive expression, or any other of a similar import. He was roused to the highest pitch of anger, and felt as though he had just as lief die as live in defence of his mother's good name.
I am not sure that I could excuse Bobby's violence under any other circumstances. He loved his mother--as the novelists would say, he idolized her; and Mr. Hardhand had certainly applied some very offensive epithets to her--epithets which no good son could calmly hear applied to a mother. Besides, Bobby, though his heart was a large one, and was in the right place, had never been educated into those nice distinctions of moral right and wrong which control the judgment of wise and learned men. He had an idea that violence, resistance with blows, was allowable in certain extreme cases; and he could conceive of no greater provocation than an insult to his mother.
"Be calm, Bobby; you are in a passion," said Mrs. Bright.
"I am surprised, marm," began Mr. Hardhand, who prudently refrained from repeating the offensive language--and I have no doubt he was surprised; for he looked both astonished and alarmed. "This boy has a most ungovernable temper."
"Don't you worry about my temper, Mr. Hardhand; I'll take care of myself. All I want of you is not to insult my mother. You may say what you like to me; but don't you call her hard names."
Mr. Hardhand, like all mean, little men, was a coward; and he was effectually intimidated by the bold and manly conduct of the boy. He changed his tone and manner at once.
"You have no money for me, marm?" said he, edging towards the door.
"No, sir; I am sorry to say that I have been able to save only five dollars since I paid you last; but I hope----"
"Never mind, marm, never mind; I shall not trouble myself to come here again, where I am liable to be kicked by this ill-bred cub. No, marm, I shall not come again. Let the law take its course."
"O, mercy! See what you have brought upon us, Bobby," exclaimed Mrs. Bright, bursting into tears.
"Yes, marm, let the law take its course."
"O, Bobby! Stop a moment, Mr. Hardhand; do stop a moment."
"Not a moment, marm. We'll see;" and Mr. Hardhand placed his hand upon the latch string.
Bobby felt very uneasy and very unhappy at that moment. His passion had subsided, and he realized that he had done a great deal of mischief by his impetuous conduct.
Then the remembrance of his morning adventure on the bridge came like a flash of sunshine to his mind, and he eagerly drew from his pocket the handkerchief in which he had deposited the precious gold,--doubly precious now, because it would enable him to retrieve the error into which he had fallen, and do something towards relieving his mother's embarrassment. With a trembling hand he untied the knot which secured the money.
"Here, mother, here is thirty-five dollars;" and he placed it in her hand.
"Why, Bobby!" exclaimed Mrs. Bright.
"Pay him, mother, pay him, and I will tell you all about it