Golden Days for Boys and Girls Part 21

"If your tame thief pulls up my corn, I'll shoot him," he declared.

"If he troubles the young chickens, he'll have to go," said mamma.

"If he spoils my garden, I'll wring his neck," a.s.serted grandma.

And, as may be imagined, we suffered considerable anxiety about our pet.

One day we were eating dinner, while Jack sat perched on the post-oak near the door.

Suddenly a terrible commotion occurred in the chicken-yard, caused by a hawk which had swooped down and seized a young chicken.

The hen-mother, however, attacked the marauder so furiously that it was unable to carry off its prey immediately, and before papa could seize his gun and reach the scene of conflict, Jack-a-Dandy had flown to the hen's a.s.sistance.

He attacked the hawk so desperately that it dropped its prey, and a terrible combat ensued, in which Jack came off the victor. But not satisfied with this, he pursued the flying enemy a long distance, attacking him sharply when occasion offered.

[Ill.u.s.tration: "BEFORE PAPA COULD SEIZE HIS GUN AND REACH THE SCENE OF CONFLICT, JACK-A-DANDY HAD FLOWN TO THE HEN'S a.s.sISTANCE."]

You may be sure we had a great many praises and a sumptuous dinner for our favorite, on his return.

Hawks had for years been a great pest to poultry raising, and even mamma espoused Jack's cause after his successful battle with the rapacious foe.

And during Jack's life, not another chicken was molested by the hawks, as he kept a vigilant watch, and attacked every one that dared to venture near the premises.

He even won the good-will of papa, by keeping rigidly aloof from the corn-field; but grandma was still fearful lest he might do some damage to the garden.

She was very careful of her early vegetables, and the garden-spot was paled in, to keep the chickens and rabbits from making depredations on the early lettuce, peas and cabbages.

But no fence would keep Jack out. Like the wind, he went "wherever he listeth."

Much to our relief, however, he did not offer to molest the vegetables, but did good service in picking up the insects and cut-worms, which are usually such a pest about a garden.

When he fell to devouring the squash-bugs, which were sapping the life of the "Boston Marrows," grandma's last prejudice was overcome, and she declared that Jack was worth his weight in gold.

After that, she never went to the garden without calling Jack, who would give an answering "caw!" and hop gravely after her, or perch on her shoulder with all the confidence of a privileged favorite.

As long as he lived, Jack continued to grow in the good opinion of the household. But, alas! he could not live forever.

One day he sat drooping on his perch, and refused to be enticed away from it. He even declined the plump crickets Fred offered him in hopes of tempting his appet.i.te.

The next morning he was found dead under his perch. He was mourned sincerely by the whole family, from grandma down, and we buried him with great ceremony under his favorite post-oak.

Tom sodded his grave, Josie planted a "mourning bride" over it, and Fred put up a s.h.i.+ngle for a headstone, with this verse on it, which we all thought very beautiful:

"Handy-spandy, Jack-a-Dandy Loves plum-cake and sugar candy."

[_This Story began in No. 15._]

THE

YOUNG GAME-WARDEN

BY HARRY CASTLEMON.

CHAPTER x.x.xI--[CONTINUED].

Silas was so completely wrapped up in his own affairs that the boys got close to him before he was aware of their presence, and it is the greatest wonder in the world that he did not shoot one of them in his excitement.

He was really alarmed; but when he had taken a good look at the newcomers, in order to make sure of their ident.i.ty, he laid his gun across the chair, pushed up his sleeves, and shook both his fists at Dan.

"So you thought you would fool your poor old pap this morning, did you, you little snipe?" he shouted. "Well, you see what you made by it, don't you?"

"I never tried to make a fool of you," stammered Dan, who had a faint idea that he understood the situation. "I never in this wide world!"

"Hush your noise when I tell you I know better," yelled Silas; and one would have thought, by the way he acted and looked, that he was very angry, instead of very much delighted, at the way things had turned out.

"Here you have been and tramped all over them mountings, and never got a cent for it, while I have made a clean twenty-five hundred dollars, if I counted it up right on my fingers; and I reckon I did, 'cause your mam put in a figger to help me now and then."

"Why, how did it happen?" exclaimed Joe, who, up to this moment, had not been able to do anything but stand still and look astonished.

He knew that his father had captured one of the robbers without help from any one, and that was more than fifty other men had been able to do, with all their weary tramping.

"The way it happened was just this," said Silas, who could not stand in one place for a single moment. "Hold on there!" he added, turning fiercely upon his prisoner, who just then moved uneasily upon the bench, as if he were trying to find a softer spot to sit on. "I've got my eyes onto you, and you might as--"

"Why, father, he can't get away," Joe interposed. "You've got him tied up too tight. Why don't you let out that rope a little?"

"'Cause he's worth a pile of money--that's why!" exclaimed Silas; "and I won't let the rope out not one inch, nuther. You Joe, keep away from there."

"I really wish you would undo some of this rope," said the prisoner, who, like Byron's Corsair, seemed to be a mild-mannered man. "I have been tied up ever since two o'clock, and am numb all over. I couldn't run a step if I should try."

"Don't you believe a word of that!" exclaimed Silas. "Come away from there and let that rope be, I tell you."

"Say, father," said Joe, suddenly, "what are you going to do with your captive? Do you intend to sit up and watch him all night long?"

"I was just a-studying about that when you come up and scared me,"

replied Silas, dropping the b.u.t.t of his gun to the ground, and leaning heavily upon the muzzle.

He never could stand alone for any length of time; he always wanted something to support him.

"What do you think I had better do about it? I don't much like to keep him here, 'cause-- Why, just look a-here, Joey," added Silas, moving up to the door, and pointing to some object inside the cabin. "See them tools I took away from him?"

The boys stepped to their father's side, and saw lying upon the table, where Silas had placed it, a belt containing a brace of heavy revolvers and a murderous-looking knife.

"Now, them's dangerous," continued Silas, "and if this feller's pardner should happen along--"

"But he won't happen along," interrupted Dan. "Brierly's squad gobbled him."