have to be up early and get back in time for school, can you do
that?”
“I’m always an early bird, so I don’t mind,” and Dan slung on his
jacket with despatch.
“The early bird got the worm this time, I’m sure,” said Mrs. Jo,
merrily.
“And a jolly good worm it is,” answered Dan, as he went laughing
away to put a new lash to the whip, wash the wagon, and order
Silas about with all the importance of a young express-man.
“Before he is tired of this I will find something else and have it
ready when the next restless fit comes on,” said Mrs. Jo to herself,
as she wrote her list with a deep sense of gratitude that all her boys
were not Dans.
Mr. Bhaer did not entirely approve of the new plan, but agreed to
give it a trial, which put Dan on his mettle, and caused him to give
up certain wild plans of his own, in which the new lash and the
long hill were to have borne a part. He was up and away very early
the next morning, heroically resisting the temptation to race with
the milkmen going into town. Once there, he did his errands
carefully, to Mr. Bhaer’s surprise and Mrs. Jo’s great satisfaction.
The Commodore did growl at Dan’s promotion, but was pacified
by a superior padlock to his new boat-house, and the thought that
seamen were meant for higher honors than driving market-wagons
and doing family errands. So Dan filled his new office well and
contentedly for weeks, and said no more about bolting. But one
day Mr. Bhaer found him pummelling Jack, who was roaring for
mercy under his knee.
“Why, Dan, I thought you had given up fighting,” he said, as he
went to the rescue.
“We ain’t fighting, we are only wrestling,” answered Dan, leaving
off reluctantly.
“It looks very much like it, and feels like it, hey, Jack?” said Mr.
Bhaer, as the defeated gentleman got upon his legs with difficulty.
“Catch me wrestling with him again. He’s most knocked my head
off,” snarled Jack, holding on to that portion of his frame as if it
really was loose upon his shoulders.
“The fact is, we began in fun, but when I got him down I couldn’t
help pounding him. Sorry I hurt you, old fellow,” explained Dan,
looking rather ashamed of himself.
“I understand. The longing to pitch into somebody was so strong
you couldn’t resist. You are a sort of Berserker, Dan, and
something to tussle with is as necessary to you as music is to Nat,”
said Mr. Bhaer, who knew all about the conversation between the
boy and Mrs. Jo.
“Can’t help it. So if you don’t want to be pounded you’d better keep
out of the way,” answered Dan, with a warning look in his black
eyes that made Jack sheer off in haste.
“If you want something to wrestle with, I will give you a tougher
specimen than Jack,” said Mr. Bhaer; and, leading the way to the
wood-yard, he pointed out certain roots of trees that had been
grubbed up in the spring, and had been lying there waiting to be
split.
“There, when you feel inclined to maltreat the boys, just come and
work off your energies here, and I’ll thank you for it.”
“So I will;” and, seizing the axe that lay near Dan hauled out a
tough root, and went at it so vigorously, that the chips flew far and
wide, and Mr. Bhaer fled for his life.
To his great amusement, Dan took him at his word, and was often
seen wrestling with the ungainly knots, hat and jacket off, red face,
and wrathful eyes; for he got into royal rages over some of his
adversaries, and swore at them under his breath till he had
conquered them, when he exulted, and marched off to the shed
with an armful of gnarled oak-wood in triumph. He blistered his
hands, tired his back, and dulled the axe, but it did him good, and
he got more comfort out of the ugly roots than any one dreamed,
for with each blow he worked off some of the pent-up power that