Jack, showing his repentance in the most characteristic way.
“I think it would be better to give them away, and begin on a new
foundation. Take ‘Honesty is the best policy’ for your motto, and
live up to it in act, and word, and thought, and though you don’t
make a cent of money this summer, you will be a rich boy in the
autumn,” said Mr. Bhaer, earnestly.
It was hard, but Jack consented, for he really felt that cheating
didn’t pay, and wanted to win back the friendship of the boys. His
heart clung to his possessions, and he groaned inwardly at the
thought of actually giving away certain precious things. Asking
pardon publicly was easy compared to this; but then he began to
discover that certain other things, invisible, but most valuable,
were better property than knives, fish-hooks, or even money itself.
So he decided to buy up a little integrity, even at a high price, and
secure the respect of his playmates, though it was not a salable
article.
“Well, I’ll do it,” he said, with a sudden air of resolution, which
pleased Mr. Bhaer.
“Good! and I’ll stand by you. Now come and begin at once.”
And Father Bhaer led the bankrupt boy back into the little world,
which received him coldly at first, but slowly warmed to him,
when he showed that he had profited by the lesson, and was
sincerely anxious to go into a better business with a new
stock-in-trade.
CHAPTER XVI TAMING THE COLT
“What in the world is that boy doing?” said Mrs. Jo to herself, as
she watched Dan running round the half-mile triangle as if for a
wager. He was all alone, and seemed possessed by some strange
desire to run himself into a fever, or break his neck; for, after
several rounds, he tried leaping walls, and turning somersaults up
the avenue, and finally dropped down on the grass before the door
as if exhausted.
“Are you training for a race, Dan?” asked Mrs. Jo, from the
window where she sat.
He looked up quickly, and stopped panting to answer, with a
laugh,
“No; I’m only working off my steam.”
“Can’t you find a cooler way of doing it? You will be ill if you tear
about so in such warm weather,” said Mrs. Jo, laughing also, as she
threw him out a great palm-leaf fan.
“Can’t help it. I must run somewhere,” answered Dan, with such an
odd expression in his restless eyes, that Mrs. Jo was troubled, and
asked, quickly,
“Is Plumfield getting too narrow for you?”
“I wouldn’t mind if it was a little bigger. I like it though; only the
fact is the devil gets into me sometimes, and then I do want to
bolt.”
The words seemed to come against his will, for he looked sorry the
minute they were spoken, and seemed to think he deserved a
reproof for his ingratitude. But Mrs. Jo understood the feeling, and
though sorry to see it, she could not blame the boy for confessing
it. She looked at him anxiously, seeing how tall and strong he had
grown, how full of energy his face was, with its eager eyes and
resolute mouth; and remembering the utter freedom he had known
for years before, she felt how even the gentle restraint of this home
would weigh upon him at times when the old lawless spirit stirred
in him. “Yes,” she said to herself, “my wild hawk needs a larger
cage; and yet, if I let him go, I am afraid he will be lost. I must try
and find some lure strong enough to keep him safe.”
“I know all about it,” she added, aloud. “It is not ‘the devil,’ as you
call it, but the very natural desire of all young people for liberty. I
used to feel just so, and once, I really did think for a minute that I
would bolt.”
“Why didn’t you?” said Dan, coming to lean on the low
window-ledge, with an evident desire to continue the subject.
“I knew it was foolish, and love for my mother kept me at home.”
“I haven’t got any mother,” began Dan.
“I thought you had now,” said Mrs. Jo, gently stroking the rough