Rensselaer Union, Volume 10, Number 38, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 6 June 1878 — BAT'S BOY. [ARTICLE]

BAT'S BOY.

“Mower! My! Can I doe over to bank, to see Bat?” “Oh, Robin-a-bobbin! Youcan’trnn after Bat all the time. He’s got something else to do.” “ I likes Bat, muvver! I’s Bat’s boy. Don’t you know?” Robin Mid, sorrowfully, and his great gray eyes filled with tears. Robin was Mr. Parker’s little son; five years old this past summer, for it was November now. He had been the family baby so long he had never vet learned to speak plain; and new that there was a real baby, a baby girl, in the house, Robin had announced with some spirit that he was “ Bat’s boy! Muvvers dot baby. She doesn’t want two t’oublesome comfits.” Bat, whose real name was Bartley Henderson, was a boy of fifteen, who lived with his aunt,' very near Mr. Parker’s house. He was an orphan; but his aunty was just like his own mother to Jum, ana he was very glad to be old enough to help her, for Mr. Parker had lately taken him into the bank of which he was Cashier, to be errand-boy, sweeper, fire-maker—in sort, generally useful. Mr. Blackman, the bank President, had been too ill for six months now to be at the bank; so Mr. Parker attended to much of the business that did not ordinarily fall to his share, and found Bat very useful, careful and diligent. He was lame, and could not be quite as swift at errands as he might have been; but he •was always sure. Being so near a neighbor to little Robin, Bat had always liked to pet the child, who was remarkably attractive and affectionate. Before he went into the bank to work Robin managed to find him out in his den in the garret at his aunt’s every Saturday afternoon, and took almost as deep an interest in the big boy’s pursuits as if he were of the same age. He thought Bat was wonderful, and it was his delight to help him stir paste for his book of stamps, a collection that was already quite large; hold the fishing-flies tight while Bat wound them with floss, and hackle and gilt threads; sweep wp the dust of his scroll-Mw; and pack the cotton round his bird’s eggs, in their neat square boxes. And Bat was as patient and as kind to Robin as a boy could be. If now and then a rare egg was broken under those tiny fingers, or a lly slipped and was quite spoiled, or the dust was scattered over his fresh varnishing, he never scolded or scowled; but comforted Robin’s dismay and made no fuss at all abbut his own losses. No wonder that, when Robin announced that he was going to be Bat’s boy, his mother only laughed, and said: “ You’ve been that this long time, Robin. But you’re mother’s, too, sir! I can’t let Bat have you all.” “ But, muvver, you’s got baby. Bat hasn’t got her.” “That’s very true, my boy; but mother can’t give you up, either.” “But lis Bat’s boy!” And seeing his persistence, his mother said no more.

To-day he wanted, as usual, to go to the bank and see his friend. He went there now and then with his father, and staid a few minutes; and he could see no reason why he should not go there and play with Bat. It was hard to convince him that Bat’s time was otherwise occupied. But he had turned away, knowing that “no” always meant no when “ muvver” said it, and by hard rubbing with his little fists had almost dried his tearful eyes, when Cousin Jack bounced into the room in great glee. “ Oh! say, Aunt Em, ain’t I in luck? Grandma sent me lots of stamps in her letter this time; so’s’t I can go to New York with you and get my clothes. Hooray!” “Jack! Jack!” said Aunt Emeline, laughing, yet remonstrating. “Can’t you possibly speak a little lower, and not talk slang.” “Well, you see, ma’s so awful deaf, I forgot. And slang! Why everybody calls’em stamps,” flourishing a bunch of bank bills into Robin’s face as he spoke. “No, zey don’t," said the small boy, very decidedly. “ Bat don’t! Bat’s got two, free, four, eighty-nine I dess, in a book, ’nd they’s dzest as small. Ain’t big, like those!” 41 Just hear Cock Robin!” sniffed Jack, derisively. “ You small gosling! Those are stamps and these are stamps, too. Ain’t Bat a big boy and you a little boy? But you’re both boys. These are worth fifteen hundred of Bat’s kind, sir—you bet your head; and ho ha’n’t got many of this sort, neither!” Robin’s little bosom swelled with indignation. “ I doesn’t like you, anyhow, one single-wingle bit, Mister Dzack; and I loves Bat.” Whereupon Jack caught him up suddenly, set him on his shoulder, and pranced about the room, to Robin’s mingled delight and terror, till Aunt Emeline stopped the noisy fun, which was too much for Baby’s morning peace in her crib. When papa came home that noon, Robin begged so earnestly to “go to bank wiz papa” that Mr. Parker took him back With him; and for half an hour the young gentleman made himself at home, behind the counter, in the vault, when it was opened for a moment, under the table in the Directors’ room, and scrambling about over chairs and under foot generally, to the great disgust of Mr. smith, the teller, who was a cross and honest man, Vehemently opposed to children and not fond of big boys either. Bat had gone out on a long errand, quite to the other end of the town; and Robin was vexed enough. He soon tired of his lonely play and Mr. Smith's snaps at him. So, when Mr. Blackman came, looking very weak and pale and needing help to get up the steps and into his chair from both Mr. Parker and Mr. Smith, Robin put on his cap and coat, and said, meekly: > “Can I doe home, papa? I’s weal tired, ’nd Mr. Smif speaks so smart to me!”

Papa was only too glad to send the troublesome comfort home, as it was but a few.steps; and, finding mamma gone out and baby asleep, when he got there, Robin trotted up to the nursery, hung his old winter coat away in a corner of the closet, with unusual care (for this useful garment was generally tossed on any chair), and then sat down to play with his blocks. But the nursery was warm and very quiet, on baby’H account; so presently he fell asleep over his play and began to nod. Then Charlotte packed him up and put him on the bed, where he had a long nap. And when he woke up and found mammn at home, standing by the bed and

smiling at him, he had slept so long he had quite forgotten something he meant to toll her. , And this something was further put out of his head by papa’s looking up, at the tea-table, to My: “ Robin, how wouldyou like to go to New York to-morrow?” New York was the tip and top of Robin’s day-dreams. He thought it was« something like the Garden of Eden mamma read about in the Bible, and something like Solomon’s Temple, whioh the big old Bible at grandma's had a picture of as a frontispiece. No doubt, too, there were griat barns there for boys to play in, if they were little; and hay-mows to jump on; and sleds and slides, and apples and peanut-can-dy, and oh! everything. He gave a little scream of joy and began to dance up and down lnnis chair. “ Sit still! Sit still, you bobbin-boy!” said his mother. “Do you tbink papa can take a jumping-jack to New York.” 44 Can you be ready by the earlvtrain time, my dear?’’ went on Mr. Parker. “There is some business to be done in the city that I must do myself. Blackman is still too feeble to go; and I thought you could get the boys* clothes as well now as after Thanksgiving, when we intended to goi” 44 Yes, I suppose 1 can,’’ said Mrs. Parker, thoughtfully. “But we must send word to Jack, to-night. If we were going to have Thanksgiving here, I couldn’t do it; but it is mothers turn this year, and I can send Charlotte and the baby over there while we are gone.” 8o the next morning early the party started off for New York. Mr. ana Mrs. Parker, with Jack and Robin—a pair of happy bovs as ever were seen. ,What they did in New York beside buying Robin his first suit of real boy’s clothes we have not time to tell. We must go back and see how Malden got on without them; especially the Malden Bank.

Mr. Blackman was not able to help Mr. Smith much. He could come over and sit in his big chair a few hours every dayvbut the teller and Bat had all the real work to do, and the day after Mr. Parker left Mr. Blackman was a little surprised to see Mr. Smith come into the parlor, close the door behind him, and whisper, in a shocked voice: “Mr. Blackman, this bank has been robbed!” “Robbed?” Baid Mr. Blackman, feebly. “Yes, sir. A package of fifties has been taken out of the cash-drawer, sir! It is clean gone.” 44 Well! well! That isn’t as bad as it might be. I thought you meant the sate. Still, it's bad enough. Are you sure it’s gone, Smith? Hasn’t slipped into a crack or been paid away?” The teller’s pale face glowed with indignation. 44 Paid away! No, indeed, sir! I put it in yesterdav morning, with a package of tens and one of twenties. They’re all paid out. Nothing but small checks came in. I know very well, sir, what goes in and out when I’m at the counter; and there a’n’t any cracks it could slip into.” 44 Dear me!” said poor old Mr. Blackman. 44 Who could it have been?” 44 It couldn't have been but one fellow, sir; and that’s that Henderson boy. Nobody else had a chance, sir. I never trust boys; never! I suppose the Lord made ’em for a good purpose; but they don’t seem to carry it out. I never want a boy ’round.” Mr. Blackman couldn’t help smiling. 44 Yet I suppose you used to be a boy yourself, Smith?” 44 1 suppose I was. I couldn’t help it. I wasn't much like other boys, though, heard say.” 44 1 dare say not,” was the dry answer.

44 But what shall I do about it, Mr. Blackman P” 44 Why, I suppose you must set the police at work. I don’t know the boy.. Parker got him here; but I liked his looks. He don’t look dishonest or dull.” 44 Appearance is deceitful,” solemnly remarked Mr. Smith, who had not forgotten his copy-books. “Can’t you watch him a little? See if any more money is missing.” “I haven’t got the time, Mr. Blackman. Beside, I shouldn’t find anything, if I did watch. Boys are sly, sir; sly as the Father of Evil himself. I think he’d better be arrested at once and scared within an inch of his life. Then he’ll confess.” “Well! well! You see to it this evening. I’m not in any trim to do business. Let’s see. This is Saturday. Parker won’t be home before Monday night. Can’t be. It’s no use to telegraph him.” So, without further ado, Bat was visited that night by the Deputy Sheriff, and, to his horror and agony, arrested for stealing $2,600 from the moneydrawer of Malden Bank; and, having nobody to give bail for him, was locked up in the station-house, leaving his aunt almost distracted. Of all this the Parkers knew nothing, of oourse. They went to church on Sunday—Robin feeling quite sure that the minister looked at his new clothes more than once during the sermon; though papa and mamma were so occupied in listening they did not notice it, which mortified Robin a good deal. But even New York must be left behind Monday morning when bank business calls; so by the last train that reached Malder. our friends arrived there safely; and when tea was over Robin was put to bed directly, he was so tired and sleepy, and papa went over to his mother’s, to bring back Charlotte anu baby. But they came home alone; for Mr. Parker had heard the dreadful tale with whioh all Malden was ringing, and gone at once to the station-house, to see poor Bat, who was to be tried on Wednesday, or, rather, brought up for examination of the case.

He found the poor boy ehtirely east down, as might be expected. He could not understand how he came to be suspected, and seemed more indignant at being accused of stealing than anxious to assert his innocence. But Mr. Parker promised to stand by him and help him as far as he could, being quite sure in his own mind that Bat was not guilty. He resolved not to tell Robin about the matter till it should be decided, knowing well how the little fellow; would grieve over his friend’s misfortune. So he cautioned his wiie and Jack not to say a word to the child on the subject. Mrs. Parker was just on her way to see Mrs. Bartley, Bat’B aunt, when she received this advice; and she was so grieved and disturbed by the dreadful distress of the poor woman that it did not occur to her that Robin could hear the news through the servants. Poor Mrs. Bartley was indeed broken down. She had looked forward to this Thanksgiving with peculiar pleasure, for her old mother was to spend it with her. And Bat had worked hard evenings, till he had made money enough by the sale of his fish-ing-flies and sawed brackets to buy a turkey, which had come home on Sat-

urday and was banging up in the pantry now; and grandma, whom she had not thought to telegraph, was expected in every train. She and Mrs. Parker oried together, for the whole outlook seemed very dark indeed to them. In the meantime. Robin had per suaded Charlotte to put on his new clothes and let him exhibit them to the cook. While she was pinning his fine red neck-tie, the last touch of splendor to the costume, he grew very restless. 44 Hold still, Robby!” she said, sharply. 44 You’re a real Robin-a-bobbin today. Do stop spinnin’ round!” Robin looked up indignant. “Me isn’t Wobin-bobbin now. I’s changed my name now I’s got on pant’loons. My name is Wobmson Hal-lett Parter! What you think, Sarlotte?” Charlotte laughed, as he went hopping down-stairs; and then her face clouded over. 44 Poor little cretur!” she said to herself. 44 He’s forgot Bat pretty considerable quick, if he is Bat’s boy.” But Robin was more faithful than she thought. As he ambled into the kitchen, to show himself, he called out to Bridget: “Bidzet! Bidzet! Look at me! I’B all new all over—’cept my hair!” An announcement which took Biddy in such a funny way she had to laugh; and Robin grew very angry. “I don’t like you, Bidzet. Yous’an’t, musn’t laugh. I’s goin’ to bank, to show Bat. Bat don’t laugh!” “Oh! bless the heart av him,” screamed Bridget. 4 4 Robby, dear, stay behint! Sure, Bat isn’t in the bank at all, at all. It's the bad, wicked boy he is stealin’ money to himself; and he’s in the lock-up this idinticle minnit!” Robby stared at her a moment; and then ran out, crying and sobbing as if his heart would break, toward the front door, where he met his mother, just coming in. It took a long while to quiet the poor little fellow’s honest agony, ana to convince him that he could not go to see his dear friend at once. But at last he grew quiet, and after tea was tired enough to go right to bed, on the plea that it would make morning come quicker; and in the morning he could send his love to Bat, for papa was going to see him. Directly after breakfast, the next day, while papa and mamma were talking over the unpleasant prospects of Bat’s trial, Robby stole up-stairs, struck by a sudden memory; rummaged quietly in the closet for his old coat, and extracted something from the biggest pocket, winch he carried down to the diningroom. Mr. Parker was still talking when Robin crept up to his elbow ana stood quite still, waiting for him to stop, for he had been carefully taught not to interrupt anyone who was speaking. But at the first interval he spoke quickly, lest his father should begin again. 4 4 Papa, I’s dot somesin to send Bat. Pease, will you div it to him?” 44 Dear little soul!” exclaimed mamma. And papa smiled very lovingly as he turned round to see the mite at his elbow. “ What is it, RobinP” 44 Oh! it’s some weal big stamps for Bat’s book.” And with that Master Robin coolly handed his father a package of fifty-dollar bills. Mrs. Parker gave a little scrc&m and Mr. Parker turned quite pale. 44 Where did yon get them, Robin?” he said, as quietly as he could. 44 Oh! I taked ’em out of your drawer to the bank, papa, last time I was dere, and zey was in my old pocket in my coat. Dzack said Bat’s stamps wasn’t so dood as his stamps; and dese is like Dzack's stamps, zackly!” “Why, I didn’t see you take them out, my boy. When did you do it?” 44 Fen you’n Mr. Smif was helpin’ that ole, ole man up the steps, papa.” 44 But why didn’t you ask me, Robin?” “Why, papa, you was busy. I mustn’t speak when you was busy; don’t you know? An’ I was cornin’ home. I didn’t like to stay. Mr. Smif don’t love little boys.” 41 He certainly won’t now,” said Mrs. Parker, softly. 44 Well, never do it again, Robin. Emeline, I must leave you to make the thing plain. I don’t think it is a case for punishment. I must be off to the court-room at once.”

So mamma took her little boy up in her lap and explained to him, very gently and softly, how much trouble he had made by taking what did not belong to him, to give away. “ But, muv-muv-muvver,” sobbed poor Robin, “Ifought it was papa’s money. I did, t’ooly!” “Iknow it, my darling; but you must not take papa's things without asking him. The money in the bank doesn’t belong to papa at all.” “ But, muvver! I fought it was stamps. Dzack said zey was stamps.” •• I know he did, Robin; and there’s a small lesson in store for Master Jack. But now dry your eyes, go ask Charlotte to dress you, and we will go over to Mrs. Bartley’s.” It would be hard to tell how glad Mrs. Bartley was to hear the good news —how she criod, and laughed, and hugged her old mother, who had just come in the cars, and kissed Robin, and hustled the cat, and began to wipe her dishes with a pillow-case and rub her eyes with the dish-cloth. But when Bat came in, pale and tired and happy, then she stopped flying about; for how could she, with her arms tight round his neck? But she sobbed worse than over, and Robin cried for company; and when they got quiet a little, everybody agreed they were glad the nextday was Thanks giving Day, for a common day would not have been half as good. So, when church began next morning, Mr. Parsons made a prayer about it all and thanked God for them;, and plenty more people cried then. And a great many stopped to shake hands with Mrs. Bartley and Bat, after church, and kiss Bat's boy. All but Mr. Smith, who growled to Mrs. Blackman, in the porch: “But, after all, it was a boy! Of course! I knew it! I do despise boys, and I. always did!” — Rose T&hry Cooke, in N. Y. Independent. “I shouldn’t think there would be such a word as • breakfast,’ ’’ remarked a young linguist to his mother, the other morning. “Why not, dearP” asked she. “Because, npa,” replied the boy, “ it ain’t natural; things never break fast—thev break loose.” There was a sad bewilderment of expression in the face of.that mother, as she gazed speechlessly upon her precious son.

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