said Jack Roberts, "but we 're not up to the mark, out all night every night in the year, and must, just now." "Peaceful as a sheep, but there's a little blue around his eyes yet. He and Tom staid away from the Festival." There was a strong and manly sentiment among the Park boys against fighting, and every one of them was glad to know that John Derry had not "picked a fuss" with even Brad Lang, much as they were pleased with the result of John's "peacemaking." By ten o'clock on Saturday morning, nearly the whole school was hard at play in front of the oldfashioned brick building which still served Saltillo for a city hall. The boys had no interest in the building itself, only in the wide, gravelly open square in front of it, which they had taken possession of for their game of ball. It was a little cramped, to be sure, if any "heavy batting” should be done, but it was the best place they could get without going out of town. They had not been permitted to get at work without a foreboding of trouble to come. Nobody could tell how Pug Merriweather had picked up his news, but he had told Jack Roberts, in a sharp whisper: "The canal-boys say they're coming around. One of them is the chap that stole my cocoa-nut. Buffalo Jack 's coming." That was bad tidings, if true; but Pug's news did not always come out correctly, and the game went right along. Hardly any of the Park boys had ever seen "Buffalo Jack," but they had all heard of him. He was all the more to be dreaded because there was a mystery about him. It was well understood that he was a bad, rough fellow, who would probably grow worse instead of better every day, and who was already a member of a fire-company and went to a political club. Nobody could say if he ever went to school. He was a fighting character, too, and there was a vague impression that he and his comrades were therefore, be fellows of terrible muscle. Some of the Wedgwood boys had been on the ground watching the play, and Jim Swayne had been asked to join, but he refused quite positively. "He's their best catcher," said Phil Bruce; "but he can't pitch a ball like Andy Wright." It was a great comfort to have got on to within half an hour of noon without any sort of interruption, and Pug's news would have been a good thing to laugh at if he had not suddenly scurried around a corner with a fresh lot of it. "Jack, they're coming! They 're just back yonder!" "Who are coming?" "Buffalo Jack and all of them! You'll get pounded now!" "Play away, boys!" shouted Jack, manfully. "We 'll mind our own business." He was catching, and it was Will Torrance's turn at the bat, when the roughs came, Buffalo Jack heading them. To be sure, there were only eight ragged, illlooking, vagabondish youngsters, of from fourteen to sixteen or seventeen years of age; but they swaggered enough for the crew of a privateer. There was almost a superstitious feeling among the Park boys that all of those who looked rough must be rough, and that fellows with dirty hands and faces, who used bad language, must be unusually strong, for some unknown reason. Will Torrance saw Buffalo Jack making straight for him, and he felt that he was no match for such a desperado. Any "trainer" of men or horses, however, would have shaken his head over it. He would have considered Will's good habits, constant exercise, gymnastics, boxing, fencing, and the various little matters about wrestling, and the like, which he had been learning from Professor Sling. He would also have considered the bad habits of such a fellow as Buffalo Jack. That worthy called out: "We're goin' to want this 'ere ground. Give me that club; Jake, you get the ball." Charley Ferris knew, at that moment, in which of his own pockets he had put the ball. It was a trying moment for Will Torrance, as he stood face to face with the vicious-looking leader of the canal-bank roughs. He felt sure of a beating, unless he should give up his club. Even then he would probably have to "run for it" afterward. There was no time for thought or parley, for Buffalo Jack was raising his fist, ominously. "Jack Roberts, take care of that club!" It went quickly to the ground behind Will as he spoke, and in an instant he and Buffalo Jack were clinched," before a blow had been struck. 66 Will had done a wise thing in his sudden determination; for the other boys on the groundroughs and all-at once resolved to look on and await the results of that wrestle. Buffalo Jack was strong, but Will was almost astonished not to find himself thrown at once; so was his antagonist at not being able to throw him. Tug,-tug,-strain,-pull,-change hands,twist about. It was a pretty equal match for about two minutes, but training began to tell, then. Will was getting stronger all the while, and the blood in his veins was beginning to boil angrily, for Buffalo Jack hardly ceased the utterance of threatening, coarse, profane abuse of him. He would have been glad, too, of a chance to strike a blow, but it was hard to find one. the ground in that way, but Buffalo Jack came right up, off his feet and over, losing his hold as he came, and down he went on the hard, gravelly soil like a log of wood. It must have been a very heavy fall, for the thrown rough lay almost still for a moment, and when he got up it was slowly and with a perceptible limp. "Try it again?" asked Will, with an effort at politeness. "Does any other boy of your crowd want to try it?" That was enough for fellows of their sort. Their best man had been overthrown in three minutes, by the watch, and that by a lighter, shorter fellow than himself.. Buffalo Jack slowly got up and swaggered off, rubbing himself here and there. STEPHEN AND THE WILD BIRD. STE-PHEN was a small boy, who had al-ways lived in a cit-y where there were no spar-rows, as there are in ma-ny towns and cit-ies; and Ste-phen had on-ly seen birds that were shut up in ca-ges. Some of the ca-na-ry birds in his moth-er's house, when their cage door was o-pen, would hop out and sit up-on his fin-ger. Ste-phen was kind to them, and nev-er frightened them; so they were not a-fraid of him. When he was five years old, his moth-er took him into the coun-try to stay dur-ing the hot weath-er. One morn-ing he was walk-ing by a grove of trees, and, on a low branch, he saw a beau-ti-ful lit-tle bird. Ste-phen whis-tled to it, and held out his fin-ger for the bird to come and hop up-on it; but the bird flew high-er up the tree, and, al-though Ste-phen whis-tled a-gain and a-gain, it would not come. Then Ste-phen thought that perhaps the bird would rath-er sit on a branch than on a boy's fin-ger; so he broke off a long twig, and held out the leaf-y end to the bird. 'Come, come, lit-tle bird," he said; and he of-fered it a crumb of cake. But the bird would not come, and, when Ste-phen held the branch high, it flew to a tree be-yond a brook. Ste-phen went to the edge of the wa-ter and looked at the bird. What a strange bird!" he said; "it does not like cake, and it will not come to me." Then he went to the house, and told his moth-er all a-bout it; and she said: "The bird was a-fraid you might hurt him if he should come near you.' "I nev-er hurt birds. Why should this one think I would hurt him?" "He thought you were like those men and boys who catch birds or kill them when-ev-er they can," said his moth-er. "If peo-ple did not in-jure these lit-tle creat-ures, or try to catch them, they would not be a-fraid of us. In some coun-tries, which men have sel-dom vis-it-ed, the birds are tame, and will not fly a-way when a man comes near. Even in towns where there are ma-ny birds, and where peo-ple are not al-lowed to dis-turb them, the lit-tle creat-ures be-come ver-y tame. At first, birds were not a-fraid of boys and men; but, af-ter peo-ple be-gan to kill and catch them, they be-came ver-y wild, and they have been so ev-er since." "Then the birds think that all men and boys are a-like?" said Ste-phen. "Yes," said his moth-er, "ex-cept-ing those birds that have been tamed, and taught that there are some lit-tle boys who are al-ways kind to them, and will not do them in-ju-ry." "Would it not be a good thing," said Ste-phen, "if we could be-gin all o-ver a-gain, and if ev-e-ry man and boy would be kind to the birds, so that they all would be tame?" 66 'Yes," said his moth-er, "it would be well in ma-ny ways, if we could be-gin all o-ver a-gain; but, as we can not do that, you and I must try to be as kind as pos-si-ble to the dumb creat-ures a-bout us, so that they may find out, if they can, that all the peo-ple in the world have not grown cru-el. This is all we can do to-ward be-gin-ning o-ver a-gain." |