Chapter 31
Section 31 of Holiday Stories for Young People. For more information, or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Read by Beeswax Candle. Holiday Stories for Young People Harry Pemberton's Text by Elizabeth Armstrong
He that hath clean hands and a pure heart. Harry Pemberton went down the street whistling a merry tune. It is one I like very much, and you all know it, for it has been played by street bands and organs and heard on every street corner for as many years as you boys have been living on the earth. Wait till the clouds roll by, Jenny. Wait till the clouds roll by. The lads I am writing the story for are between ten and fourteen years old,
and they know that the clouds do once in a while roll around a person's path and block the way, because fogs and mists can block the way just as well as a big black stone wall. At the corner of the street, a red-headed, blue-eyed lad, a head taller than Harry, joined the latter. He put his hand on Harry's shoulder and walked beside him. well said this last comer whose name was frank fletcher will your mother let you go harry boy
i hope she doesn't object but she does said harry quickly mother doesn't think it right for us to start on such an expedition and she says all parents will say the same of all things where can the harm be only none of the rest of us have to us leave as you do mother said harry disregarding the speech, is of the opinion that to enter a man's garden by the back gate, when the family are all away, is breaking into his premises, and going where you haven't a right, and his burglary,
and if you take flowers or anything, then it's stealing. Mere vulgous stealing, she says. Oi, Harry Pemberton, how dare you say stealing to me? And Frank's red hair stood up like a fiery flame. I'm only quoting mother. Don't get mad, Frank. Does your mother know that it is to decorate the soldiers' graves that we want the flowers, and that Squire Elliot will be home till next year? And there are hundreds and hundreds of flowers, feeding and wasting and dying on his
lawn and garden, and furthermore that he'd like the fellows to decorate the cemetery with his flowers. Does she know that, I say? And the blue-eyed lad gesticulated fiercely. All is, "'Yes,' said Harry firmly, "'that you boys can go ahead if you like. "'But mother won't let me, and you must count me out.'
"'All is,' said Frank, mimicking Harry's tone. "'You're a mother, boy, "'and we fellows won't have anything more to do with you.' "'So they sent him to Coventry, "'which means they let him alone severely.
"'They had begun to do it already, "'which is why he whistled so merrily to show he didn't mind. "'I, for my part, could never see there was any disgrace in being a mother-boy. But I suppose a boy thinks he is called Babyish if the name is fastened on him. As Harry went on his errand, he no longer whistled. At least,
he didn't whistle much. As he went up to school next day, and next day, and next day, and found himself left out in the cold, he would have been more than the usual twelve-year-old laddie if he had not felt his courage fail. But he had his motto text to bolster him up. Clean hands, Barry, and a pure heart, said Mrs. Pemberton cheerfully. It cannot be right to steal flowers or anything else, even to decorate the graves of our brave soldiers. And so the time
passed. Kite time, top time, hoop time, marble time. It was the evening before Memorial Day at last. There was a good deal of stirring in the village. It was a splendid moonlight. You could see to read large print. A whole crowd of boys met at the store and took their way across lots to the beautiful old Elliot place. The big house, with its broad porch and white columns, stood out in the glory of the moon. The gardens were sweet in the dew. Violets, lilies, roses, lilacs, snowdrops,
whole beds of them. Every boy, and there were ten of them, had a basket and a pair of shears. They meant to get all the flowers they could carry and despoil the Elliot place, if necessary, to make the cemetery a grand-looking spot tomorrow, when the veterans and the militia would be out with bands of music and flying flags, and the governor, no less, coming in person to review the troops and make a speech in the very place where his own father was buried.
In went the boys, over the stile, up the paths, clear on toward the front portico. They separated into little groups, and began to cut their flowers. The Elliot's flowers. All the Elliot's in Europe, and not to sole on hand to save their property. Suddenly, the boys were arrested and paralysed with fright.
An immense form leapt from behind the house, and a deep-throated baying bark resounded in a threatening roar. Juno, Squire Elliot's famous mastiff, the one that had taken a prize at the dog show, bounded out toward the marauders.
They turned to fly when a stern voice bade them stop. You young rapscallions! You trespasses! You rascals! Stop this instant or I'll thrash every one of you!
Humph! said Squire Elliot, brandishing his cane as the boys stopped and tremblingly came forward. This is how my neighbours' sons treat my property when I'm away. Line up there against the fence, every one of you. Charge, Juro, charge, good dog. Squire Elliot looked keenly at the boys, every one of whom he knew.
Solomon's methods are out of fashion, he said, And if I send you boys home, the chances are that your fathers won't whip you as you deserve to be whipped. So I'll do the job myself. Fortunate thing I happened to change my plans and come home for the summer instead of going away as I expected. I heard there was a plan of this sort on foot,
but I didn't believe it till I overheard the whole thing talked of in the village this afternoon. Well, boys, I'll settle with you once and for all. And then I'll forgive you, but you've got to pay the penalty first. Frank, hold out your hand. But just then there was an interruption.
Lights appeared in the windows, and a dainty little lady came upon the scene. The boys knew Grandmother Elliot, who wore her seventy years with bright queenly grace, and never failed to have a kind word for man, woman, and child in the old home. "'Eugene,' she called to the squire imperatively, "'I can't allow this, my son.
"'The boys have been punished enough. "'Their fault was in not seeing "'that you cannot do evil, the good may come. "'Let every one of these young gentlemen come here to me. "'I want to talk with them.'
Now it is probable that most of the boys would have preferred a sharp blow or two from the squire's cane to be reproof from his gentle old mother, whose creed led her to heap coals of fire on the heads of those who did wrong. But they had no choice.
There was no help for it. They had to go up, cheers, baskets and all, and let old lady Elliot talk to them. And then, as they were going away, who should come out but a white-capped maid with cake and lemonade
to treat the young depredators to refreshments? "'There's only one fellow in our class who deserves cake and lemonade,' explained Frank, "'and he isn't here. We've all treated him meaner than dirt. We've been horrid to him, because he wouldn't join us in this. Now he's out of this scrape and we're in.' "'Harry Pemberton,' said Squire Elliot, who had locked up his cane and was quite calm.
"'Harry Pemberton. That's Lider Scott's boy-mother. Lider would bring him up well, I'm sure. Well, he shall have a lot of roses tomorrow to lay on Colonel Pemberton's grave. Isn't that fair, boys? Yes, yes, assented they all with eagerness. And as you have, by your own admission, treated Harry rather badly, suppose you make it up to him by coming here in the morning, carrying the roses to his house, and owning that you regret your behaviour.
It was rather a bitter pill, but the boys swallowed it bravely. Next day, as Harry and his mother, laden with dogwood boughs and branches of lilac, set out for the little spot most sacred to them on earth, they met a procession which was headed by Frank Fletcher. The procession had a drum and a flag, and it had roses galore.
Honest roses, Harry, said Frank. The squire is at home and he gave them to us for you. Let me tell you about it. The story was told from beginning to end. Then Mrs. Pemberton said,
Now boys, take for your everlasting motto from this time forth, clean hands and a pure heart. End of section 31
