The Story of the Big Front Door Part 15

"Full details of the sad occurrence given later," Carl called out as he ran for his life.

"I don't understand it, do you? I haven't any neighbors to help," Jim said, as he and Fred Ames walked on together.

"I don't know. I suppose it means _not_ doing things too. Perhaps this is one thing," and Fred carried to the edge of the sidewalk the skin of the banana he was peeling, and dropped it on the pile of dust and dirt which had been swept up by the street cleaner.

"Do you think Mrs. Howard meant silly things like that?"

"Why not? I heard of an old man who slipped on a banana skin and broke his leg. It would not have seemed silly to him if someone had put it out of his way. But if she didn't mean such things, what did she mean?

Perhaps you think you are improving the neighborhood." Fred glanced mischievously at his companion, who held a piece of chalk and was carelessly making a straggling-white line on everything he pa.s.sed. Jim dropped his hand impatiently. "I don't think I'll belong," he said. He did not quite mean this. He was really curious to see what it would amount to, but at the same time he was not exactly pleased. He felt great scorn for what he considered trifles, and had a strong belief in his right to do as he pleased.

Thursday night of this week happened to be Hallowe'en. Jim, who had had almost unlimited freedom since his babyhood, had often gone about with a crowd of boys on this night ringing doorbells, carrying away door-mats, and turning on water. By the marauders it was looked upon as a grand frolic, and owners of missing mats and deluged yards might grumble as they pleased. He had even looked forward to the time when more daring exploits would be possible, and when some of his old companions came for him this evening he joined them as a matter of course.

"Let's give old Grandfather Clark a dose first, he is always as mad as fury," said one of the boys.

At this moment the motto of the club popped into Jim's head.

"They helped every one his neighbor." This was not helping. There came to him a sudden determination not to have anything to do with it. Not that he saw any special reason why they should not have fun at old Mr.

Clark's expense, but rather because he wanted to go to the club at least once more; and, mingled with this, there was a feeling that the nicest fellows did not do things of this kind.

There could be no doubt as to the interest in the G.N.C. as the boys had begun to call it. On Friday night six eager faces greeted Mrs.

Howard when she entered the star chamber, and there was an amiable scramble for the honor of giving her a chair.

"First we'll have reports and then begin work; that is, if you have decided that you like the plan." As she spoke she looked at Jim, who was nearest.

He had entirely recovered from his bashfulness, and was feeling rather well pleased with himself, so he answered promptly:

"I am not sure I understand it, Mrs. Howard, but I have thought of one thing. I suppose you would not call it being a good neighbor to go about on Hallowe'en as lots of boys do, carrying off gates and doing other mischief. I have done it myself, and I never thought there was much harm in it, but I suppose there is." He was astonished himself at this honest conclusion.

Mrs. Howard smiled. "Stopping to think makes such a difference," she said. "I should be sorry indeed to believe that any of you boys could take part in some of the wild pranks that are often played on Hallowe'en. My brother had a valuable young tree destroyed last night.

Boys do such things for fun, they say, but it doesn't seem honest to make other people pay so dearly for their fun."

"I never thought of it in that way," said Fred.

"But how are you ever to have any fun if you must stop and think about things?" Jim asked, feeling ashamed in spite of himself as he remembered how near he had come to making one of such a crowd.

"Its being fun isn't any excuse. Suppose you thought it fun to steal somebody's pocketbook?" said Carl.

"That is a different thing."

"What is the real difference between stealing money and ruining something that cost money?" asked Will.

"Father says that in America people have less respect for public property than anywhere else in the world," remarked Fred.

"I am afraid it is true," replied Mrs. Howard, "and that is why I want you boys to think about it. Ikey, haven't you something to say?" This young gentleman, who had been fidgeting about like some uneasy insect, now became greatly embarra.s.sed.

"I don't know whether it will count or not, and it is as much Carl's as mine," he began.

"It isn't at all; you thought of it--go on."

Aunt Zelie nodded encouragingly at him, though she had no idea what was coming, and after several beginnings Ikey managed to tell the story of the cat. Louise had found the poor thing, and had come in great distress to the boys. Ikey remembered seeing his father kill a pet dog with chloroform, and so volunteered to try it on the cat. Carl bought the chloroform, and, putting some cotton saturated with it in a paper bag, they drew this over the animal's head, covering all with a box made as air-tight as possible.

"But," said Ikey comically, "I don't know whether cats are neighbors."

"Indeed, they are most useful ones, and frequently unappreciated. It was a kind thing to do, and, now you know how easy it is, I hope you will all be ready to put any poor animal out of its misery when you find it hopelessly hurt."

"We had a beautiful funeral, Cousin Zelie, and are going to take up a collection for a tombstone," said Aleck.

They grew so merry over Ikey's story that it was difficult to come back to such commonplaces as writing on fences and walls, and scattering papers around.

"Everybody does such things, so what difference will our not doing them make?" asked Jim.

"Everything has to begin, and you don't know how contagious a good example is," replied Mrs. Howard.

"Let's have a penny fine for each time we do a thing of the sort,"

Carl suggested.

Last of all, Will Archer told about the little lame boy, son of the minister at the church on the corner.

"I think perhaps it would be a pleasure to him if some of us would go to see him occasionally. He hardly gets out at all in the winter, and he is a bright little fellow."

"That is a beautiful suggestion," said Mrs. Howard. "I am glad that you have thought of so many things good neighbors should and should not do. Taken all together it amounts to this: To be thoughtful for the rights of others, and ready to help. Now, what of our club? Shall we try this plan?"

It was unanimously adopted, and they all wrote their names under the text in a new blank-book which was handed over to Jim, who offered no objection to being made secretary.

"And now for our work," said Mrs. Howard. "Some years ago, when I spent a summer in Maine, I learned from an Indian woman to make baskets of sweet gra.s.s. This year I had a friend bring me some of this gra.s.s, and it occurred to me the other day that it would be just the work for you boys."

Carl brought in an armful of the fragrant material, and his aunt showed them how to fasten it to the frame she had had made for the purpose, and then braid it. Their fingers were awkward at first, but they soon learned to do it evenly, and found it pleasant work.

"What are we to do with them when they are done?" Ikey asked.

"Sell them, and help somebody with the money," was the reply.

The thought of making anything good enough to sell was inspiring, and they worked with a will till it was time to adjourn.

Talking it over with her brother after the boys were gone, Aunt Zelie said: "Perhaps our club is too comprehensive: a sort of Village Improvement, Humane and Missionary Society combined, but the boys thought of these things themselves. If we can only cultivate the spirit of helpfulness, perhaps it will find its own natural channel in each."

"You can't specialize in everything, life is too short," answered Mr.

Hazeltine, laughing.

"I don't know what you mean by channels, and specializing, and all that," said Carl, looking in the door, "but I can tell you, Aunt Zelie, the boys like it, and Jim thinks you are tiptop. Hurrah for the G.N.C.!"

CHAPTER XI.

PLANS.