Oscar | Page 9

he certainly had no need to be; for it was not
applied to him in derision, but playfully and good-naturedly.
Whistler and Ralph were good friends. There was a difference of
between two and three years in their ages, Whistler being about twelve
years old; but their dispositions harmonized together well, and quite a
strong friendship had grown up between them. A very different feeling,
however, had for some time existed between Oscar and Whistler. They
were in the same class at school; but Whistler studied hard, and thus,
though much younger than Oscar, he stood far before him as a scholar.
This awakened some feeling of resentment in Oscar, and he never let
slip any opportunity for annoying or mortifying his more industrious
and successful class-mate.
On their way to school, on the morning in question, Ralph told Whistler
of Oscar's threat, and advised him to avoid his brother as much as
possible, for a day or two, until the affair of the blackboard should pass
from his mind. Whistler heeded this caution, and was careful not to put
himself in the way of his enemy. He succeeded in eluding him through
the day, and was on his way home from school in the afternoon, when
Oscar, who he thought had gone off in another direction, suddenly
appeared at his side.
"You little tell-tale, you," cried Oscar, "what did you tell Ralph about
the blackboard for! I 'll learn you to mind your own business, next time,
you mean, sneaking meddler. Take that--and that," he continued, giving
Whistler several hard blows with his fist. The latter attempted to dodge
the blows, but did not return them, for this he knew would only
increase the anger of Oscar, who was so much his superior in size and
strength, as well as in the art of fisticuffs, that he could do just about as
he pleased with him. The affray, however, was soon brought to an
unexpected end, by a gentleman who happened to witness it. Seizing
Oscar by the collar of his jacket, he exclaimed:
"Here, here, sir! what are you doing to that little fellow? Don't you
know enough, you great lubber, to take a boy of your own size, if you
want to fight? Now run, my little man, and get out of his way,"
continued the stranger, turning to Whistler, and still holding Oscar by

the collar.
[Illustration: The Assault.]
Whistler hesitated for a moment between the contending impulses of
obedience and manliness; and then, drawing himself up to his full
stature, he said, with a respectful but decided air:
"No, sir, I have n't injured him, and I won't run away from him."
"Well said, well said--you are a brave little fellow," continued the
gentleman, somewhat surprised at the turn the affair was taking. "What
is your name, sir?"
"William Davenport."
"And what is this boy's name?"
"Oscar," replied Willie, and there he stopped, as if unwilling to expose
further the name of his abuser.
"Well you may go now, Oscar," said the gentleman, relinquishing his
hold; "but if you lay your hands on William again, I shall complain of
you."
The two boys walked off in opposite directions, the gentleman keeping
an eye upon Oscar until Whistler was out of his reach.
A little knot of boys was drawn together by the circumstance just
related, among whom was George, Oscar's youngest brother. He
witnessed the attack, but knew nothing of its cause. As he went directly
home, while Oscar did not, he had an opportunity to report to his
mother and Ralph the scene he had just beheld. Ralph now related to
his mother the incident of the preceding day, which led to the assault;
for, seeing Oscar's unwillingness to have anything said about it, he had
not mentioned the matter to any one at home. Ralph was a
generous-hearted boy, and in this case was actuated by a regard for
Oscar's feelings, rather than by fear.

Oscar did not come home that night until after dark. As he entered the
sitting-room, Alice, who was seated at the piano-forte, broke short off
the piece she was playing, and said, looking at him as sternly as she
could,
"You great ugly boy!"
"Why, what's the matter now?" inquired Oscar, who hardly knew
whether this rough salutation was designed to be in fun or in earnest;
"don't I look as well as usual?"
"You looked well beating little Willie Davenport, don't you think you
did?" continued his sister, with the same stern look. "I 'm perfectly
ashamed of you--I declare, I did n't know you could do such a mean
thing as that."
"I don't care," replied Oscar, "I 'll lick him again, if he does n't mind his
own business."
As Oscar did not know that George witnessed