Mrs. Robertson and her son were sitting at their pleasant breakfast-table together.

"Blair," said the mother, "you want to be a patriot. Here is some work for you to do for your country. We must try to make a good American citizen out of Hal, and a good Christian at the same time. The poor fellow is deeply grateful to you, and you will have a powerful influence over him."

"I can't bear the English," said Blair warmly. "I don't like any foreigners, for that matter. It don't seem to me they are the right stuff to make American citizens out of. Give me the native-born Yankee, free and independent from his cradle upwards. That's my way of thinking."

Blair stood up as he spoke, and waved his knife in a manner more emphatic than elegant. A speech, one of his favorite speeches, seemed imminent. Blair did love to hear himself talk.

"My son, our question in life is not what we _like_, but what is _duty_.

I think the laws of the kingdom of heaven should be the guide to every lover of his country. The voice of our Saviour is, '_Come_ unto me, all ye that labor and are heavy-laden, and I will give you rest.' 'The Spirit and the bride say, _Come_; and let him that heareth say, _Come._'

Every true Christian echoes the saying of St. Paul, 'I would to G.o.d that not only thou, but also all that hear me this day, were both almost and altogether such as I am, except these bonds.' So it should be with every favored citizen of our happy land. We should welcome the oppressed of every clime, and strive to make them worthy partakers of the blessings we enjoy. I do not like to hear you say you hate any nation. We are all of one blood, made in G.o.d's image."

"Dear mother," said Blair, "you are right; you are always right. How thankful I ought to be to have such a guide, and such a help in keeping my new resolutions. I want to do my duty even when it is hard for me.

You shall see what a friend I will be to Hal. I mean to go out as soon as I have done breakfast, and see if I can look him up some steady work.

I heard Old Jock say on Sat.u.r.day he wanted a strong boy to help him handle his nets. I'll try to get the place for Hal."

Blair was as prompt to act as to plan. A half hour after breakfast was over he was standing by the cottage of an old fisherman and knocking for admittance.

It took all Blair's powers of persuasion to induce Jock to have any thing to do with what he called a "furriner." The case seemed well-nigh lost, when Blair mounted on a chair, and made a small speech in his best style for the benefit of his single auditor. Whether won over by its logic or through a sense of the honor thus conferred upon him, Jock agreed to Blair's proposition.

"The first speech I ever made to any purpose," thought Blair, as he walked rapidly along the sh.o.r.e, wending his way to Mrs. McKinstry's dwelling.

Hal had locked himself into his "castle," as the only way in which he could escape the merciless scolding of his voluble hostess. She seemed to consider every stain on the injured garments a blot on the shield of the English boy which no apologies could excuse or efface. Hal fairly fled before the enemy; and once safe in his own room, whistled so l.u.s.tily as to drown all sound of the railing from without.

It was an unusually busy day with Mrs. McKinstry, or it is doubtful whether she would have allowed even this close to the skirmish, for she had a taste for such encounters. Blair however heard the dripping and swashing of water in the rear of the house as he went up the narrow stairway. The wide cap-border of Mrs. McKinstry was fanning backwards and forwards, as she bent with a regular motion over the tub in which her red arms were immersed. She gave one look at Blair as he went up to her lodger's room, but did not condescend even to exchange watchwords with him.

In answer to Blair's knock was returned a resolute "Who's there?"

The reply set Hal's mind at ease, and the visitor was promptly admitted.

Blair stated his business at once, but to his surprise he met with a blank refusal from Hal. He would not fall in with such a plan, not he.

He would keep out of the water while there was any land left to stand on. He had had enough of plumping to the bottom, and coming up, ears singing, throat choking, and soul almost scared out of him. Better a crumb of bread and a morsel of cheese, than fatness and plenty earned in such a way.

It was hard for Blair to understand the nervous fear of drowning which had taken possession of poor Hal. Fairport boys could swim almost as soon as they could walk. They knew nothing of the helpless feeling of one who has the great deep under him, and is powerless to struggle in its waves.

But a few short days before, Blair would have p.r.o.nounced Hal a coward, and left him in disdain. Now he stood silent for a moment, baffled and puzzled. "I'll teach you to swim, Hal," he said at length. "We'll try in shallow water first, where you couldn't drown, unless you wish to drown yourself. It is easy--just as easy as any thing, if you only know how.

I'll come for you after school this evening, and we'll go up the creek, where the boys wont be about. I shouldn't wonder if you were to take to it like a fish."

The English boy looked into Blair's frank pleasant face, and the dogged expression pa.s.sed from his own. He took Blair's hand as he said, "I'll try. You shall see what you can make out of me."

Before many weeks were over, Hal Hutchings was as good a swimmer as half the boys in Fairport. Old Jock no longer waded into the deep water to set his nets or push his boat ash.o.r.e. He declared that Hal had scared the rheumatism out of his bones, and it was not likely to make bold to come back, if things went on as they seemed to promise.

CHAPTER V.

BLAIR'S COMPANY.

Blair Robertson had long had a famous military company of his own, called the Fairport Guard. A guard _against what_ had never been publicly stated; and as they had no written const.i.tution for their a.s.sociation, posterity must ever remain in ignorance on this point. Up and down the streets of Fairport it was their delight to parade on a Sat.u.r.day afternoon, to the infinite amus.e.m.e.nt of the small girls who ate mola.s.ses candy and looked at the imposing array.

The breaking out of the war infused a new military spirit into all the youngsters on the Atlantic coast, and the Fairport Guard came in for their share of this growing enthusiasm. c.o.c.ks' tail feathers and broomsticks were suddenly in great requisition for the increasing rank and file, and the officers bore themselves with added dignity, and gave out their orders with an earnestness which proved that they appreciated the work they were imitating.

When it was rumored that Blair Robertson had become a communicant in the church to which his mother belonged, there was a general groan among his old followers and adherents. Here was an end, in their minds, to the Fairport Guard, and every other species of fun in which Blair had been so long a leader and abettor.

Blair was at first inclined to shrink from his old companions; but as the right spirit grew and strengthened within him, he mingled among them more freely, actuated by the desire to win new citizens for the kingdom of heaven, and to guide his wild a.s.sociates into such paths as would make them a blessing to their native land.

Blair's heart had been like rich ground, in which his mother had been sowing, sowing, sowing good seed, prayerfully waiting until it should spring up and take root to his own salvation and the glory of G.o.d. That happy time had come. All the words of counsel, all the pure teaching that had been stored in his mind, seemed now warmed into life, and ever rising up to prompt him to good and guard him from evil. Happy are the boys who have such a mother.

A series of rainy Sat.u.r.days had postponed the question as to whether the Fairport Guard should parade as usual under the command of their long honored captain. A bright sunny holiday came at last, and Blair's decision on this point must now be declared. Long and prayerfully the boy had considered the subject, and his conclusion was fixed and unalterable.

The change in Blair's principles and feelings had not alienated him from his former companions. Each one of them had now for him a new value.

They were to him wandering children of his heavenly Father, whom he longed to bring back to that Father's house. The wildest and most erring among them called forth his most tender interest, as farthest from the kingdom of heaven and in the most danger of utter destruction.

Blair's love of his country too had been but deepened and increased by his late realization of the allegiance he himself owed to the King of kings. His native land was now to him a dear portion of the great vineyard on which he desired the especial blessing of G.o.d. He more deeply appreciated the fact that every true Christian man is indeed an element of wholesome life and prosperity to the neighborhood and land in which he dwells. The boys of the present day were soon to be the men on whom the state must rely for power and permanency. With a true patriot's zeal, Blair resolved to do all in his power to bring the boys of Fairport to be such Christian men as would be a blessing in their day and generation. These thoughts had gone far to fix his decision with reference to the Fairport Guard.

It was with a burst of enthusiastic applause that the little company saw Blair appear upon the public square in his well-known uniform. His three-cornered hat of black pasteboard was surmounted by a long black feather, and fastened under his chin by a fine leather strap, the strap being bordered by a ferocious pair of whiskers, to afford which the "black sheep" of some neighboring flock had evidently suffered. His grandfather's coat, which had been worn at Bunker Hill, enveloped his slender form, and increased the imposing effect of his tall figure upon the minds of his subordinates.

"Three cheers for Captain Robertson! Three cheers for Blair!" shouted the boys as their leader approached.

The cheers rung out on the air somewhat feebly, though that was owing to the weakness of the throats that raised them, rather than to any want of goodwill, and so Blair understood it.

"Now give us a speech before we fall into rank," called out one of the company.

"That is just what I mean to do, if you will all listen to me," said the captain in his most dignified manner.

The stump of a fallen tree served to elevate our speaker on this occasion, as it has many an older orator in circ.u.mstances no more interesting to his hearers than were the present to the eager group of listeners.

Blair had another purpose now than to hear himself talk. The short pause which preceded his opening sentence was not merely for effect. In those few seconds Blair was asking aid from his heavenly Father so to speak that he might have power to move his hearers and guide them aright.

"Boys," he began, "boys, I want to be your captain. I don't want to give up the Fairport Guard. We have had many a good time together, and I love you all; yes, every one. Our marching and drilling has. .h.i.therto been play, but now we ought to be in earnest. We should prepare to be really a guard to our native town. At any moment the British may land on our sh.o.r.es, and threaten the lives of those who are dearest to us. We must be able to protect our mothers and sisters if the evil day comes. We must learn the use of firearms. This musket did duty at Bunker Hill.

Every young patriot here must learn to use it well. In due time we must each have our musket, and make it carry true, if need be, to the heart of the enemy. But, boys, if we are to be real defenders of our native land, we must be worthy of such an honor. I am willing, I want to be your captain; but hear the rules I propose for our company: We are to be a temperance band; no drop of the cup that intoxicates must pa.s.s our lips. No profane word must sully our tongues. The name of the G.o.d of our fathers must be honored among us. Any member of this company who shall be found guilty of a lie, a theft, or bullying the weak and defenceless, shall be cast out by common vote. We will strive to be a credit to our beloved home--true American citizens, who may dare to ask G.o.d to bless them in all their undertakings and prosper all they do.

Boys, do you agree to these regulations? If so, I shall rejoice to be your captain. If not, I must sadly bid adieu to the Fairport Guard, and with this time-honored musket in my hand, stand alone on the threshold of my home in the hour of danger, trusting in G.o.d and in the strength of this single right-arm."

As Blair concluded, he grounded his musket, and stood silently awaiting the reply of his companions.

There was a moment of hesitation; then one of the older boys, the first-lieutenant, stepped forward and silently placed himself at the side of his young commander. In true martial style the whole company followed, arraying themselves around their leader.

"We agree! We agree! We agree to every thing!" shouted one and all.

"May G.o.d help us to keep to our compact," said Blair. Then, after a short pause, he added, "Let me propose to you a new member for our company--my friend Hal Hutchings, who, born on English soil, is yet a true American at heart. Let all in favor of his admission say Aye."

Hal had been striving to give himself a military air by appearing in his red flannel shirt and trousers, while Old Jock's red night-cap was perched above the yellow curls of the boy. As his name was mentioned, he raised to his shoulder a borrowed crutch which served him for a musket, as if to signify his readiness for martial duty.

"The English boy! Admit the English boy!" said several voices; but a hearty "Aye, aye" from two or three prominent members of the company decided the question in Hal's favor, and he was admitted at once by general consent.

Forming now in regular ranks, the Fairport Guard went through their usual drill, and then set off in a creditable march, to let the citizens have a view of their doughty defenders.

[Ill.u.s.tration]