The Eagles Heart | Page 2

his was a singularly attractive nature
when not enraged. He was a hearty, buoyant playmate, and a good
scholar five days out of six, but he demanded a certain consideration at
all times. An accidental harm he bore easily, but an intentional
injury--that was flame to powder.
The teachers in the public school each had him in turn, as he ran rapidly
up the grades. They all admired him unreservedly, but most of them
were afraid of him, so that he received no more decisive check than at
home. He was subject to no will but his own.
The principal was a kind and scholarly old man, who could make a boy
cry with remorse and shame by his Christlike gentleness, and Harold
also wept in his presence, but that did not prevent him from fairly
knocking out the brains of the next boy who annoyed him. In his
furious, fickle way he often defended his chums or smaller boys, so that
it was not easy to condemn him entirely.
There were rumors from the first Monday after Harold's pin-sticking
exploit that the minister had "lively sessions" with his boy. The old
sexton privately declared that he heard muffled curses and shrieks and
the sound of blows rising from the cellar of the parsonage--but this
story was hushed on his lips. The boy admittedly needed thrashing, but
the deacons of the church would rather not have it known that the
minister used the rod himself.
The rumors of the preacher's stern measures softened the judgment of
some of the townspeople, who shifted some of the blame of the son to
the shoulders of the sire. Harry called his father "the minister," and
seemed to have no regard for him beyond a certain respect for his
physical strength. When boys came by and raised the swimming sign
he replied, "Wait till I ask 'the minister.'" This was considered "queer"
in him.
He ignored his stepmother completely, but tormented his sister Maud in
a thousand impish ways. He disarranged her neatly combed hair. He
threw mud on her dress and put carriage grease on her white stockings
on picnic day. He called her "chiny-thing," in allusion to her pretty

round cheeks and clear complexion, and yet he loved her and would
instantly fight for her, and no one else dared tease her or utter a word to
annoy her. She was fourteen years of age when Mr. Excell came to
town, and at sixteen considered herself a young lady. As suitors began
to gather about her, they each had a vigorous trial to undergo with
Harold; it was indeed equivalent to running the gantlet. Maud was
always in terror of him on the evenings when she had callers.
One day he threw a handful of small garter snakes into the parlor where
his sister sat with young Mr. Norton. Maud sprang to a chair screaming
wildly, while her suitor caught the snakes and threw them from the
window just as the minister's tall form darkened the doorway.
"What is the matter?" he asked.
Maud, eager to shield Harry, said: "Oh, nothing much, papa--only one
of Harry's jokes."
"Tell me," said the minister to the young man, who, with a painful
smile on his face, stammeringly replied:
"Harry thought he'd scare me, that's all. It didn't amount to much."
"I insist on knowing the truth, Mr. Norton," the minister sternly
insisted.
As Norton described the boy's action, Mr. Excell's face paled and his
lips set close. His eyes became terrible to meet, and the beaded sweat of
his furious anger stood thick on his face. "Thank you," he said with
ominous calmness, and turning without another word, went to his
study.
His wife, stealing up, found the door locked and her husband walking
the floor like a roused tiger. White and shaking with a sort of awe, Mrs.
Excell ran down to the kitchen where Harold crouched and said:
"Harold, dear, you'd better go out to Mr. Burns' right away."

Harold understood perfectly what she meant and fled. For hours neither
Mrs. Excell nor Maud spoke above a whisper. When the minister came
down to tea he made no comment on Harry's absence. He had worn out
his white-hot rage, but was not yet in full control of himself.
He remained silent, and kept his eyes on his plate during the meal.
The last time he had punished Harold the scene narrowly escaped a
tragic ending. When the struggle ended Harold lay on the floor, choked
into insensibility.
When he had become calm and Harold was sleeping naturally in his
own bed, the father knelt at his wife's knee and prayed God for grace to
bear his burden, and said:
"Mary, keep us apart when we are angry. He is like me: he has my