Project Gutenberg surfs with a modem donated by Supra.
H >>
Horatio Alger, Jr. >> Project Gutenberg surfs with a modem donated by Supra.
Pages:
1 |
2 |
3 |
4 |
5 |
6 |
7 |
8 |
9 |
10 |
11 |
12 |
13 |
14 Pages 13-14 missing from my print edition!
Scanned by Charles Keller with OmniPage Professional OCR software
FRANK'S CAMPAIGN OR THE FARM AND THE CAMP
By HORATIO ALGER, JR.
FRANK'S CAMPAIGN
CHAPTER I. THE WAR MEETING
The Town Hall in Rossville stands on a moderate elevation
overlooking the principal street. It is generally open only when
a meeting has been called by the Selectmen to transact town
business, or occasionally in the evening when a lecture on
temperance or a political address is to be delivered. Rossville
is not large enough to sustain a course of lyceum lectures, and
the townspeople are obliged to depend for intellectual nutriment
upon such chance occasions as these. The majority of the
inhabitants being engaged in agricultural pursuits, the
population is somewhat scattered, and the houses, with the
exception of a few grouped around the stores, stand at
respectable distances, each encamped on a farm of its own.
One Wednesday afternoon, toward the close of September, 1862, a
group of men and boys might have been seen standing on the steps
and in the entry of the Town House. Why they had met will best
appear from a large placard, which had been posted up on barns
and fences and inside the village store and postoffice.
It ran as follows:
WAR MEETING!
The citizens of Rossville are invited to meet at the Town Hall,
on Wednesday, September 24, at 3 P. M. to decide what measures
shall be taken toward raising the town's quota of twenty-five
men, under the recent call of the President of the United States.
All patriotic citizens, who are in favor of sustaining the free
institutions transmitted to us by our fathers, are urgently
invited to be present.
The Hon. Solomon Stoddard is expected to address the meeting.
Come one, come all.
At the appointed hour one hundred and fifty men had assembled in
the hall. They stood in groups, discussing the recent call and
the general management of the war with that spirit of independent
criticism which so eminently characterizes the little democracies
which make up our New England States.
"The whole thing has been mismanaged from the first," remarked a
sapient-looking man with a gaunt, cadaverous face, addressing two
listeners. "The Administration is corrupt; our generals are
either incompetent or purposely inefficient. We haven't got an
officer that can hold a candle to General Lee. Abraham Lincoln
has called for six hundred thousand men. What'll he do with 'em
when he gets 'em? Just nothing at all. They'll melt away like
snow, and then he'll call for more men. Give me a third of six
hundred thousand, and I'll walk into Richmond in less'n thirty
days."
A quiet smile played over the face of one of the listeners. With
a slight shade of irony in his voice he said, "If such are your
convictions, Mr. Holman, I think it a great pity that you are not
in the service. We need those who have clear views of what is
required in the present emergency. Don't you intend to
volunteer?"
"I!" exclaimed the other with lofty scorn. "No, sir; I wash my
hands of the whole matter. I ain't clear about the justice of
warring upon our erring brethren at all. I have no doubt they
would be inclined to accept overtures of peace if accompanied
with suitable concessions. Still, if war must be waged, I believe
I could manage matters infinitely better than Lincoln and his
cabinet have done."
"Wouldn't it be well to give them the benefit of your ideas on
the subject?" suggested the other quietly.
"Ahem!" said Mr. Holman, a little suspiciously.
"What do you mean, Mr. Frost?"
"Only this, that if, like you, I had a definite scheme, which I
thought likely to terminate the war, I should feel it my duty to
communicate it to the proper authorities, that they might take it
into consideration."
"It wouldn't do any good," returned Holman, still a little
suspicious that he was quietly laughed at. "They're too set in
their own ways to be changed."
At this moment there was a sharp rap on the table, and a voice
was heard, saying, "The meeting will please come to order."
The buzz of voices died away; and all eyes were turned toward the
speaker's stand.
"It will be necessary to select a chairman to preside over your
deliberations," was next heard. "Will any one nominate?"
"I nominate Doctor Plunkett," came from a man in the corner.
The motion was seconded, and a show of hands resulted in favor of
the nominee.
A gentlemanly-looking man with a pleasant face advanced to the
speaker's stand, and with a bow made a few remarks to this
effect:
"Fellow citizens: This is new business to me, as you are
doubtless aware. My professional engagements have not often
allowed me to take part in the meetings which from time to time
you have held in this hall. On the present occasion, however, I
felt it to be my duty, and the duty of every loyal citizen, to
show by his presence how heartily he approves the object which
has called us together. The same consideration will not suffer me
to decline the unexpected responsibility which you have devolved
upon me. Before proceeding farther, I would suggest that a clerk
will be needed to complete the organization."
A young man was nominated and elected without opposition.
Doctor Plunkett again addressed the meeting: "It is hardly
necessary," he said, "to remind you of the object which has
brought us together. Our forces in the field need replenishing.
The Rebellion has assumed more formidable proportions than we
anticipated. It is quite clear that we cannot put it down with
one hand. We shall need both. Impressed with this conviction,
President Lincoln has made an extraordinary levy upon the
country. He feels that it is desirable to put down the Rebellion
as speedily as possible, and not suffer it to drag through a
series of years. But he cannot work single-handed. The loyal
States must give their hearty cooperation. Our State, though
inferior in extent and population to some others, has not fallen
behind in loyal devotion. Nor, I believe, will Rossville be found
wanting in this emergency. Twenty-five men have been called for.
How shall we get them? This is the question which we are called
upon to consider. I had hoped the Honorable Solomon Stoddard
would be here to address you; but I regret to learn that a
temporary illness will prevent his doing so. I trust that those
present will not be backward in expressing their opinions."
Mr. Holman was already on his feet. His speech consisted of
disconnected remarks on the general conduct of the war, mingled
with severe denunciation of the Administration.
He had spoken for fifteen minutes in this strain, when the
chairman interfered----
"Your remarks are out of order, Mr. Holman. They are entirely
irrelevant to the question."
Holman wiped his cadaverous features with a red silk
pocket-handkerchief, and inquired, sarcastically, "Am I to
understand that freedom of speech is interdicted in this hall?"
"Freedom of speech is in order," said the chairman calmly,
"provided the speaker confines himself to the question under
discussion. You have spoken fifteen minutes without once touching
it."
"I suppose you want me to praise the Administration," said
Holman, evidently thinking that he had demolished the chairman.
He looked around to observe what effect his shot had produced.
"That would be equally out of order," ruled the presiding
officer. "We have not assembled to praise or to censure the
Administration, but to consider in what manner we shall go to
work to raise our quota."
Holman sat down with the air of a martyr.
Mr. Frost rose next. It is unnecessary to report his speech. It
was plain, practical, and to the point. He recommended that the
town appropriate a certain sum as bounty money to volunteers.
Other towns had done so, and he thought with good reason. It
would undoubtedly draw in recruits more rapidly.
A short, stout, red-faced man, wearing gold spectacles, rose
hastily.
"Mr. Chairman," he commenced, "I oppose that suggestion. I think
it calculated to work serious mischief. Do our young men need to
be hired to fight for their country? I suppose that is what you
call patriotism. For my part, I trust the town will have too much
good sense to agree to any such proposition. The consequence of
it would be to plunge us into debt, and increase our taxes to a
formidable amount."
It may be remarked that Squire Haynes, the speaker, was the
wealthiest man in town, and, of course, would be considerably
affected by increased taxation. Even now he never paid his annual
tax-bill without an inward groan, feeling that it was so much
deducted from the sum total of his property.
Mr. Frost remained standing while Squire Haynes was speaking, and
at the close continued his speech:
"Squire Haynes objects that my proposition, if adopted, will make
our taxes heavier. I grant it: but how can we expect to carry on
this gigantic war without personal sacrifices? If they only come
in the form of money, we may account ourselves fortunate. I take
it for granted that there is not a man here present who does not
approve the present war--who does not feel that we are waging it
for good and sufficient reasons."
Here Mr. Holman moved uneasily in his seat, and seemed on the
point of interrupting the speaker, but for some reason forbore.
"Such being the case, we cannot but feel that the burden ought to
fall upon the entire community, and not wholly upon any
particular portion. The heaviest sacrifices must undoubtedly be
made by those who leave their homes and peril life and limb on
the battlefield. When I propose that you should lighten that
sacrifice so far as it lies in your power, by voting them a
bounty, it is because I consider that money will compensate them
for the privations they must encounter and the perils they will
incur. For that, they must look to the satisfaction that will
arise from the feeling that they have responded to their
country's call, and done something to save from ruin the
institutions which our fathers transmitted as a sacred trust to
their descendants. Money cannot pay for loss of life or limb. But
some of them leave families behind. It is not right that these
families should suffer because the fathers have devoted
themselves to the sacred cause of liberty. When our soldiers go
forth, enable them to feel that their wives and children shall
not lack for the necessaries of life. The least that those who
are privileged to stay at home can do is to tax their purses for
this end."
"Mr. Chairman," said Squire Haynes sarcastically, "I infer that
the last speaker is intending to enlist."
Mr. Frost's face flushed at this insinuation.
"Squire Haynes chooses to impute to me interested motives. I need
enter into no defense before an audience to whom I am well known.
I will only inquire whether interested motives have nothing to do
with his opposition to voting bounties to our soldiers?"
This was such a palpable hit that Squire Haynes winced under it,
and his red face turned redder as he saw the smiles of those
about him.
"Impudent puppy!" he muttered to himself; "he seems to forget
that I have a mortgage of eight hundred dollars on his farm. When
the time comes to foreclose it, I will show him no mercy. I'll
sell him out, root and branch!"
Mr. Frost could not read the thoughts that were passing through
the mind of his creditor. They might have given him a feeling of
uneasiness, but would not in the least have influenced his
action. He was a man loyal to his own convictions of duty, and no
apprehension of personal loss would have prevented his speaking
in accordance with what he felt to be right.
The considerations which had been urged were so reasonable that
the voters present, with very little opposition, voted to pay one
hundred and fifty dollars to each one who was willing to enlist
as one of the town's quota. A list was at once opened, and after
the close of the meeting four young men came forward and put down
their names, amid the applause of the assembly.
"I wanted to do it before," said John Drake, one of the number,
to Mr. Frost, "but I've got a wife and two little children
dependent upon me for support. I couldn't possibly support them
out of my thirteen dollars a month, even with the State aid. But
your motion has decided me. I could do better by staying at home,
even with that; but that isn't the question. I want to help my
country in this hour of her need; and now that my mind is at ease
about my family, I shall cheerfully enter the service."
"And I know of no one who will make a better soldier!" said Mr.
Frost heartily.
CHAPTER II. THE PRIZE
A few rods distant from the Town Hall, but on the opposite side
of the street, stood the Rossville Academy. It had been for some
years under the charge of James Rathburn, A. M., a thorough
scholar and a skilful teacher. A large part of his success was
due to his ability in making the ordinary lessons of the
schoolroom interesting to his scholars.
Some forty students attended the academy, mostly from the town of
Rossville. Mr. Rathburn, however, received a few boarders into
his family.
There were three classes in the Latin language; but the majority
of those who had taken it up stopped short before they had gone
beyond the Latin Reader. One class, however, had commenced
reading the Aeneid of Virgil, and was intending to pursue the
full course of preparation for college; though .n regard to one
member of the class there was some doubt whether he would be able
to enter college. As this boy is to be our hero we will take a
closer look at him.
Frank Frost is at this time in his sixteenth year. He is about
the medium size, compactly made, and the heallhful color in his
cheeks is good evidence that he is not pursuing his studies at
the expense of his health. He has dark chestnut hair, with a
slight wave, and is altogether a fine-looking boy.
At a desk behind him sits John Haynes, the son of Squire Haynes,
introduced in our last chapter. He is nearly two years older than
Frank, and about as opposite to him in personal appearance as can
well be imagined. He has a thin face, very black hair is tall of
his age, and already beginning to feel himself a young man. His
manner is full of pretension. He never forgets that his father is
the richest man in town, and can afford to give him advantages
superior to those possessed by his schoolfellows. He has a
moderate share of ability but is disinclined to work hard. His
affectation of Superiority makes him as unpopular among his
schoolfellows as Frank is popular.
These two boys, together with Henry Tufts, constitute the
preparatory class of Rossville Academy. Henry is mild in his
manners, and a respectable student, but possesses no positive
character. He comes from a town ten miles distant, and boards
with the principal. Frank, though the youngest of the three,
excels the other two in
{Pages 13-14 missing}
Frank's face flushed with pleasure, and his eyes danced with
delight. He had made a great effort to succeed, and he knew that
at home they would be very happy to hear that the prize had been
awarded to him.
"Frank Frost will come forward," said Mr. Rathburn.
Frank left his seat, and advanced modestly. Mr. Rathburn placed
in his hand a neat edition of Whittier's Poem's in blue and gold.
"Let this serve as an incentive to renewed effort," he said.
The second prize was awarded to one of the girls. As she has no
part in our story, we need say nothing more on this point.
At recess, Frank's desk was surrounded by his schoolmates, who
were desirous of examining the prize volumes. All expressed
hearty good-will, congratulating him on his success, with the
exception of John Haynes.
"You seem mighty proud of your books, Frank Frost," said he with
a sneer. "We all know that you're old Rathburn's favorite. It
didn't make much difference what you wrote, as long as you were
sure of the prize."
"For shame, John Haynes!" exclaimed little Harvey Grover
impetuously. "You only say that because you wanted the prize
yourself, and you're disappointed."
"Disappointed!" retorted John scornfully. "I don't want any of
old Rathburn's sixpenny books. I can buy as many as I please. If
he'd given 'em to me, I should have asked him to keep 'em for
those who needed 'em more."
Frank was justly indignant at the unfriendly course which John
chose to pursue, but feeling that it proceeded from disappointed
rivalry, he wisely said nothing to increase his exasperation. He
put the two books carefully away in his desk, and settled himself
quietly to his day's lessons.
It was not until evening that John and his father met. Both had
been chafed--the first by his disappointment, the second by the
failure of his effort to prevent the town's voting bounties to
volunteers. In particular he was incensed with Mr. Frost, for his
imputation of interested motives, although it was only in return
for a similar imputation brought against himself.
"Well, father, I didn't get the prize," commenced John, in a
discontented voice.
"So much the worse for you," said his father coldly. "You might
have gained it if you had made an effort."
"No, I couldn't. Rathburn was sure to give it to his favorite."
"And who is his favorite?" questioned Squire Haynes, not yet
siding with his son.
"Frank Frost, to be sure."
"Frank Frost!" repeated the squire, rapidly wheeling round to his
son's view of the matter. His dislike of the father was so great
that it readily included the son. "What makes you think he is the
teacher's favorite?"
"Oh, Rathburn is always praising him for something or other. All
the boys know Frank Frost is his pet. You won't catch him
praising me, if I work ever so hard."
John did not choose to mention that he had not yet tried this
method of securing the teacher's approval.
"Teachers should never have favorites," said the squire
dogmatically. "It is highly detrimental to a teacher's influence,
and subversive of the principles of justice. Have you got your
essay with you, John?"
"Yes, sir."
"You may sit down and read it to me, and if I think it deserving,
I will take care that you sha'n't lose by the teacher's
injustice."
John readily obeyed. He hurried up to his chamber, and, opening
his writing-desk, took out a sheet of foolscap, three sides of
which were written over. This he brought down-stairs with him. He
began to hope that he might get the boat after all.
The squire, in dressing-gown and slippers, sat in a comfortable
armchair, while John in a consequential manner read his rejected
essay. It was superficial and commonplace, and abundantly marked
with pretension, but to the squire's warped judgment it seemed to
have remarkable merit.
"It does you great credit, John," said he emphatically. "I don't
know what sort of an essay young Frost wrote, but I venture to
say it was not as good. If he's anything like his father, he is
an impertinent jackanapes."
John pricked up his ears, and listened attentively.
"He grossly insulted me at the town meeting to-day, and I sha'n't
soon forget it. It isn't for his interest to insult a man who has
the power to annoy him that I possess."
"Haven't you got a mortgage on his farm?"
"Yes, and at a proper time I shall remind him of it. But to come
back to your own affairs. What was the prize given to young
Frost?"
"A blue-and-gold copy of Whittier's Poems, in two volumes."
"Plain binding, I suppose."
"Yes, sir."
"Very well. The next time I go to Boston, I will buy you the same
thing bound in calf. I don't intend that you shall suffer by your
teacher's injustice."
"It wasn't so much the prize that I cared for," said John, who
felt like making the most of his father's favorable mood, "but
you know you promised me twenty-five dollars if I gained it."
"And as you have been defrauded of it, I will give you thirty
instead," said the squire promptly.
John's eyes sparkled with delight. "Oh, thank you, sir!" he said.
"I wouldn't change places with Frank Frost now for all his
prize."
"I should think not, indeed," said the squire pompously. "Your
position as the son of a poor farmer wouldn't be quite so high as
it is now."
As he spoke he glanced complacently at the handsome furniture
which surrounded him, the choice engravings which hung on the
walls, and the full-length mirror in which his figure was
reflected. "Ten years from now Frank Frost will be only a common
laborer on his father's farm--that is," he added significantly,
"if his father manages to keep it; while you, I hope, will be
winning distinction at the bar."
Father and son were in a congenial mood that evening, and a
common hatred drew them more closely together than mutual
affection had ever done. They were very much alike--both cold,
calculating, and selfish. The squire was indeed ambitious for his
son, but could hardly be said to love him, since he was incapable
of feeling a hearty love for any one except himself.
As for John, it is to be feared that he regarded his father
chiefly as one from whom he might expect future favors. His
mother had been a good, though not a strong-minded woman, and her
influence might have been of advantage to her son; but unhappily
she had died when John was in his tenth year, and since then he
had become too much like his father.
CHAPTER III. FRANK AT HOME
Mr. Frost's farm was situated about three-quarters of a mile from
the village. It comprised fifty acres, of which twenty were
suitable for tillage, the remainder being about equally divided
between woodland and pasture.
Mr. Frost had for some years before his marriage been a painter,
and had managed to save up from his earnings not far from a
thousand dollars. Thinking, however, that farming would be more
favorable to health, he purchased his fifty-acre farm for
twenty-eight hundred dollars, payable one thousand down, and the
rest remaining on mortgage. At the date of our story he had
succeeded in paying up the entire amount within eight hundred
dollars, a mortgage for that amount being held by Squire Haynes.
He had not been able to accomplish this without strict economy,
in which his wife had cheerfully aided him.
But his family had grown larger and more expensive. Besides
Frank, who was the oldest, there were now three younger
children--Alice, twelve years of age; Maggie, ten; and Charlie,
seven.
The farmhouse was small but comfortable, and the family had never
been tempted to sigh for a more costly or luxurious home. They
were happy and contented, and this made their home attractive.
On the evening succeeding that of the war meeting, Frank was
seated in the common sitting-room with his father and mother.
There was a well-worn carpet on the floor, a few plain chairs
were scattered about the room, and in the corner ticked one of
the old-fashioned clocks such as used to be the pride of our New
England households. In the center of the room stood a round
table, on which had been set a large kerosene-lamp, which
diffused a cheerful light about the apartment.
On a little table, over which hung a small mirror, were several
papers and magazines. Economical in most things, Mr. Frost was
considered by many of his neighbors extravagant in this. He
subscribed regularly for Harper's Magazine and Weekly, a weekly
agricultural paper, a daily paper, and a child's magazine.
"I don't see how you can afford to buy so much reading-matter,"
said a neighbor, one day. "It must cost you a sight of money. As
for me, I only take a weekly paper, and I think I shall have to
give that up soon."
"All my papers and magazines cost me in a year, including
postage, is less than twenty dollars," said Mr. Frost quietly. "A
very slight additional economy in dress--say three dollars a year
to each of us will pay that. I think my wife would rather make
her bonnet wear doubly as long than give up a single one of our
papers. When you think of the comparative amount of pleasure
given by a paper that comes to you fifty-two times in a year, and
a little extra extravagance in dress, I think you will decide in
favor of the paper."
"But when you've read it, you haven't anything to show for your
money."
"And when clothes are worn out you may say the same of them. But
we value both for the good they have done, and the pleasure they
have afforded. I have always observed that a family where papers
and magazines are taken is much more intelligent and well
informed than where their bodies are clothed at the expense of
their minds. Our daily paper is the heaviest item; but I like to
know what is passing in the world, and, besides, I think I more
than defray the expense by the knowledge I obtain of the markets.
At what price did you sell your apples last year?"
"At one dollar and seventy-five cents per barrel."
"And I sold forty barrels at two dollars per barrel. I found from
my paper that there was reason to expect an increase in the
price, and held on. By so doing I gained ten dollars, which more
than paid the expense of my paper for the year. So even in a
money way I was paid for my subscription. No, neighbor, though I
have good reason to economize, I don't care to economize in that
direction. I want my children to grow up intelligent citizens.
Let me advise you, instead of stopping your only paper, to
subscribe for two or three more."
Pages:
1 |
2 |
3 |
4 |
5 |
6 |
7 |
8 |
9 |
10 |
11 |
12 |
13 |
14