The Story of Dago | Page 9

my head close to
his as he squatted there in the tent, talking as he worked. "Come on,
Dago," he said, when it was ready, "I'll light this at the camp-fire and
hold the bottle straight out in the air, so it won't hurt anything. It'll go
off like a pistol--bim!--and make the boys jump out of their boots." I
thought it would be better for me to get out of the way if a racket like
that was coming, so I scuttled up to the top of the tent-pole.
Phil stooped down by the bonfire, held the rag to the coals until it
began to smoulder, and swung around to point it at the fence. There
was no sound. Evidently the bottle did not make as good a pistol as he
thought it would. "The light's gone out," he muttered, bringing the
bottle cautiously around to look at it. Then he blew it, either to see if he
could rekindle it, or to make sure that the last spark was out,--I could
not tell. The next instant there was a puff, a flash, and then, jungles of
my ancestors! such a noise and such screams and such a smell of
burning powder! After that I could see nothing but a tangled mass of
boys, all legs and elbows, crowding around poor little Phil to see what
had happened. If war is like that, then my voice and vote are henceforth
for peace, and peace alone. It's awful!
They carried him up-stairs, and his father was sent for, and the
neighbours came running in as soon as the boys had scampered home
with the news. For awhile it seemed to me that the whole world was
topsy-turvy. Miss Patricia was so frightened she couldn't do a thing. I
really pitied her, for her hands trembled and her voice shook, and even
the little bunches of gray curls bobbed up and down against her pale
cheeks. I have had the shivers so often that I can sympathise with any
one whose nerves are unstrung from fright.
The doctor turned us all out of the room, and I waited with the boys out
by the alley-gate until he came down-stairs and told us how badly Phil
was burned. His front hair and eyebrows and beautiful long curly lashes
were singed off, and his face was so full of powder that it was as
speckled as a turkey egg. The grains would have to be picked out one

by one,--a slow and painful proceeding. The doctor could not tell how
badly his eyes were hurt until next day, but thought he would have to
lie in a dark room for a week at least, with his eyelids covered with
cotton that had been dipped in some soothing kind of medicine.
But that week went by, and many a long tiresome day besides, before
Phil could use his eyes again. They would not let me go into the room
that first day, but after Phil had gone to sleep I hid under a chair in the
upper hall, where Miss Patricia and the doctor were talking. "Tom,"
said Miss Patricia, "what do you suppose made that child do such a
reckless thing? Sometimes I think that boys are like monkeys, and are
possessed by the same spirit of mischief. Neither seem satisfied unless
they are playing tricks or making some kind of a disturbance. They are
always getting into trouble."
"Yes, it does seem so," answered the doctor, "but if we could look
down to the bottom of a boy's heart, we would find that very little of
the mischief that he gets into is planned for the purpose of making
trouble. He does things from a pure love of fun, or from some sudden
impulse, and because he never stops to think of what it may lead to.
Phil never stopped to think any more than Dago would have done, what
would be the result of setting fire to the powder. You must remember
that he is a very little fellow, Aunt Patricia. He is only eight. We
shouldn't expect him to have the reasoning powers of a man, and the
caution and judgment that come with age."
Now I thought that that was a very sensible speech. It seemed to excuse
some of my own past mistakes. But Miss Patricia put on her old
war-eagle look.
"Really, Tom," she said, "that sounds very well, but it is not what was
taught in my day. A wholesome use of the rod after the first act of
disobedience helps boys to stop and think before committing the
second. It is a great developer of judgment, in my opinion. If you had
punished Phil the first time he took down his grandfather's powder-horn
after you had