From the Improvement Era, 1906-07 –
Randy
By Elvin J. Norton
Chapter I
It was not usual that the Westside people could enjoy sleigh-riding at Christmas time: but this year the substantial coat of snow would make the regular Christmas Eve dance more successful than ever. At any rate, this was one of the conclusions reached by the boys who were standing outside the schoolhouse which they had arranged for the evening’s party.
“What’s Christmas time for, if not to dance and sleigh-ride?” asked Dick Rogers, twirling a broom handle round his fingers.
Randy Palmer thought of a story his mother had told him of a glorious event in a far-off land nineteen hundred years ago; but it was only a thought; for he would hardly conceive the idea of experimenting upon his comrades by suggesting such a subject to them. “And snowballing, too!” he said, by way of completing Dick’s statement, and at the same time he struck Dick on the back of the head and shoulders with a snowball as large as he could lift.
Dick was so interested in his broom handle feat that he was taken entirely by surprise. “I’ll fix you, Randy-Pandy!” he shouted, gathering up fragments of the shattered snowball and throwing them at Randy’s head.
The good-natured combat was brought to a sudden close by the sound of approaching bells. In a moment more a sleigh filled with young men came in sight. The boys quickly formed a line across the road and began swinging their hats and shouting in order to check the speed of the sleigh and catch hold of it. They held their ground for a moment, when suddenly the team darted through a break in the line. The horses had run the blockade. The young men laughed tauntingly, and the boys shouted threats of vengeance, as one after another voluntarily gave up the race, or caught hold for an instant only to be hurled into the snow. Randy Palmer alone managed to cling to the sleigh; but in doing so, he drew upon himself a parting volley of snowballs from his baffled comrades behind. In a few minutes his home came in sight. Here, as he expected, the horses were again urged to run, and he in his turn rolled over and over in the snow when he let go his hold on the sleigh.
As Randy went through the gate a cloud passed over his features, which had appeared cheerful and happy while he was away from home. His mother watched him as he came up the path towards the door. His countenance gave her no assurance of success in the effort she had determined to make; but still undaunted in her purpose, she opened the door to meet him.
“I am glad you are back so early. Randy,” she said pleasantly. Her smile and kind words caused him almost to forget his false dignity and ask, “Why so?” but he kept the words back; and his only answer was a smile, half forced and half suppressed, and condescending on the whole. He walked past his mother and haughtily threw himself into a chair.
Mrs. Palmer was disappointed in not leading him out in conversation; but with apparent disregard for his behavior, she went up to him and held out a few silver coins. “Mr. Davis passed while you were away, ‘ ’ she said, ‘ ’and left the pay for the work you did last week. “
Still Randy said nothing. As he put the money into his pocket, his mother continued, “Rachel has your supper ready for you. We didn’t think you’d be through so soon, and had supper a little early so Henry would have time to do all the chores. Now, you won’t have anything to do after supper. Don’t you think you’d better go over to the store and buy you a hat and a few little things to fix up with tonight?”
This was too direct for Randy to avoid answering. “I don’t know of anything I want,” he said indignantly, as he walked into the kitchen and closed the door behind him.
“I’d like to know why mother has so much to say about what I’m to do with my money,” he muttered to his sister when he sat down to eat; for, though no better natured, he did not hesitate to speak when Rachel was the only one to hear.
“Randolph Palmer!” replied Rachel, “you are unreasonable! What did you say when mother asked you why you didn’t go inside at the Thanksgiving dance, instead of helping to make up the crowd of rowdies that hung around the building and tried to draw attention by yelling and striking the windows and making other disturbances? You said it was because you didn’t have any decent clothes; and you were angry because she mentioned it, and you said she ought to know you’d be glad enough to go inside if you had clothes fit to go in with. And now, when there’s a chance for you to get some clothes, you’re angry again because she wants you to get them. I don’t see much common sense — let alone reason — in that!”
Randy had not thought of this inconsistency, and he cringed somewhat at the force of the argument; and so instead of attempting to justify himself, he retorted sarcastically, “I suppose she’s told Henry how to spend his money!”
Rachel’s eyes flashed when she heard this; but she wisely kept quiet till her feelings relaxed. Her silence was really more effective as a rebuke than any words could have been. Randy knew it was cowardly of him to avoid the subject in this way. Yet he was not ready to face the exact proposition advanced, for the evident reason that he was unable to defend himself. Each moment, however, added to his discomfort, and it would not do for him to acknowledge defeat by saying nothing. His sister’s silence was the strongest of arguments; but his own was humiliating. At last he decided to show that his spiteful remark about Henry applied to his larger grievance, and hence, indirectly, to the present difficulty.
“You think it’s all right for someone else to tell me how to spend my money, and let Henry go on just as he pleases without a word from anyone. It’s pretty tough all the same to see him go off for every day’s work he finds, and then spend his money for a good time with the boys. I wouldn’t care so much, if he’d bring some of it home and help you and mother, like he used to. But no; that don’t go at all. And I must be hauled over if I stay outside with the boys; but not a word is said to him if he has to be carried home and put to bed. I guess you think that’s a good way to spend money. But then, all I ask is to have the same right that he has. If he’s goin’ to be at home, I don’t see why I can’t take that job Davis offered me. The pay for last week’s work won’t go far in getting anything for me. Let me go off for a year, so I can do something.”
Rachel was about to remind Randy, with considerable emphasis, that he was only fifteen, while his brother was seven years older; but fearing the effect of this, she calmed herself and sat down at the table opposite him, deciding on another line of argument. “Let me tell you something. Randy,” she began, in a tone so kind, and yet so full of meaning, that he could not even appear inattentive. “I know that you’ll not say this where it would be out of place; but the fact is, Henry’s drinking has caused mother ten times more trouble and sorrow than anything you have said or done. And you know Henry’s trouble didn’t begin at home — it began right where you are so anxious to go to work. Now that’s why mother doesn’t want you to go away. She wants you to start to school after New Year’s, and to go on with your studies for this winter anyhow. But I won’t say any more, though I could tell you lots of things. Go get your clothes, and we’ll have a good time together at the dance. You don’t know how bad it looks to be hanging around on the outside.”
This was almost too much for Randy; yet it would be too humiliating now for him to make any admission. Doubtless he was anxious to attend the party; but he would rather deny himself this pleasure, and then later, upon his own accord, go to the store and buy a few clothes, when no one expected him to do so. In this way he would not be yielding to the suggestions of others.
“Oh, well, there’s no hurry, Ray,” he said, rising from the table. “I don’t think I’ll go to the dance at all tonight, inside or out.”
Rachel knew she was gaining ground. A little more kindness, and Randy’s ruffled temper would be smoothed for one evening at least.
“Don’t go just now, Randy,” continued Rachel in the same kind tone. “Henry’s doing your chores as his part of the bargain when you promised to help clean the schoolhouse. Sit down and let’s talk a little while.”
For the first time since he entered the house, Randy’s features had lost all trace of unpleasantness. “Oh, yes, you’ll make me give up yet, “ he said, with a hearty, mischievous laugh, which dispersed the gloom so dark a few moments before. That laugh reached the ears of Mrs. Palmer in the adjoining room, and caused tears of joy to flow, and drive away those of sorrow that had been trickling down her cheeks. But before she or Rachel was able to determine whether Randy had entirely escaped from the effects of his imaginary wrongs, a shrill whistle at the gate called him from the house. In the stream of light from the front window, the mother and sister could barely distinguish the form of Dick Rogers on horseback. They saw Randy spring at a single bound to his place behind the saddle, and in another instant vanish from their sight. Yet they stood gazing blankly in the direction the boys had gone. Each was busy with her thoughts: had the cloud been entirely lifted, or merely wafted aside for a moment to let in a bright gleam of sunshine? But they had not pondered long when a light flickered from three windows of the schoolhouse and told all who could see it that Randy and Dick had fulfilled the last requirement of their part in preparing for the evening’s celebration. At the same moment footsteps were heard on the kitchen floor, and a voice called out, “Who’s ready for the dance?”
(To be continued)