Bolax Part 16

"That is a very worthy thought," said I.

"I don't claim to be any better or worse than the next person," went on the lawyer, "but I believe a good knowledge of the Scriptures would benefit a man of my calling professionally."

"And spiritually," I suggested.

"I dare say it would. I had a case in one of those downtown justice shops. It went to a jury trial, and the bailiff hauled in half a dozen of those professional hoboes, that are always hanging around such places, on the chance of making a couple of dollars by sitting on a jury."

"I put up two witnesses to prove my case, and one repeated and corroborated the evidence of the other in every particular. The lawyers on the other side argued that this exact agreement of my witnesses at every point made their testimony unreliable. He said no two men could possibly give the same account of what they had seen, not even men of sound and undoubted rect.i.tude. He said that even the Bible proved this, and then he told the story of Jonah and the whale."

"How did Jonah come into the case?" I asked.

"Just this way, my opponent said the Bible contained two versions of the story, one by St. Matthew, and the other by St. Mark. St. Matthew's account was that Jonah made the entire voyage inside the whale, while St. Mark declared that Jonah came out occasionally and sat on the whale's back to get a breath of fresh air."

"Dear me," said the presiding judge. "That version of the voyage of Jonah sounds strange to me. I suppose you can give chapter and verse for it. If you can, I wish you would."

"He can do no such thing, your Honor," said I. "There is no account in the Bible that tells of Jonah riding on the whale's back."

My opponent glanced from one to the other of us contemptuously, and then looked significantly at the jury.

"Gentlemen of the jury," he said solemnly. "I am not addressing my remarks to this Honorable Court, nor to the learned gentleman on the opposite side of this case, whose lamentable ignorance regarding one of the most familiar Scriptural narrations, I sincerely deplore."

"In drawing a parallel between the suspiciously coinciding character of the evidence here given by two witnesses, who apparently have compared notes with extreme care, and the discrepancies shown in the statements of two great inspired writers, I am directing my remarks to intelligent, upright men, who study their Bibles, and who have the great truths of Scripture at their finger ends."

"You should have seen how that bench of hoboes nodded complacently as that audacious lawyer insulted the Court and me. The upshot of the whole business was that I lost my case, and all through not knowing what St.

Matthew and St. Mark wrote about Jonah."

I could scarcely keep from laughing while my friend was telling the story, but at this point, I broke out in a prolonged fit of merriment.

"What amuses you so much?" said my friend.

When I could control myself sufficiently to speak, I told him neither St. Matthew nor St. Mark ever wrote that story. It was written thousands of years before they were born. Jonah and the whale story belongs to the Old Testament.

"You don't say! Well, I'll be switched!" exclaimed my friend. "My only consolation," continued he, "is that the Judge didn't know any more than I did."

"That's a good story, Uncle d.i.c.k, but if your lawyer had a mother like mine when he was a boy, he never would have made such a ridiculous mistake about Jonah."

"Come, children," called Aunt Lucy, "it's past bed time."

"Good-night, Uncle. Good-night Grandpa Mischief."

CHAPTER XI.

PRACTISING.

Ma--Bolax you are wasting your time, don't stop, you have not practised long enough.

Bolax--Look at the clock, Ma, dear. It was bright sunlight when I began, and now the shades of night are falling.

Ma--That's very poetical, but you must continue practising.

Bolax--Oh, you are the provokingest mother I ever saw; I'll not love you a bit after a while, if you keep on making me practise.

Ma--Go on with your lesson, especially that piece for the concert.

Bolax--Bang, bang, oh, how I wish the man who invented pianos was dead.

Ma--Well, he is dead.

Bolax--Then I wish all the professors were dead.

Ma--A great many of them are. Go on with your work.

Bolax--Oh, Ma, dear, can't you let up on a fellow, if you don't, indeed, indeed, I'll be dead too!

Ma--That has no effect upon me, Bo, I make you practise for your own good. I take the trouble to sit here and worry over you, when I might be upstairs resting.

Bolax--But Ma, dear, how do other boys manage? Their mothers don't bother to make them learn music.

Ma--Perhaps those boys don't need the urging you do.

By this time the patient mother began to show signs of nervousness, and Bo, who really loved his "Ma dear" began to play with a will, but having the spirit of mischief strong in him, put some funny words to the tune he was playing.

Bolax--Oh, twenty thousand rats and forty thousand cats, they all screamed and yelled in sharps and flats!

Suddenly turning round on the stool, he said, "Ma, dear, just let me tell you a dream I had, while I'm resting my fingers."

Ma--Well, only for two minutes.

Bolax--Last night you made me practise so much and old Professor was so dreadful at lesson, that I dreamed I went to the piano, and all the keys turned to Brownies, they looked more like Goblins, and began to dance up and down, they played jig music. It was fine. I gave them "On the Meadow" and "Sounds from the Forest," and they played the two pieces right off.

Ma--Now dear, give just one-half hour more to your lesson and I'll let you have all day tomorrow free, it's the beginning of the Christmas holidays, and the cold is so intense I shouldn't be surprised if the skating and sliding would be fine.

Thus spurred on, Bo surprised himself, and the half hour was more than pa.s.sed when his mother called him to come upstairs, but he was in the middle of a piece and waited to finish it.

Bolax continued playing softly, then called out--"Ma, dear! I wonder if we will have an adventure this year like last Christmas." "Not very likely, my dear; fortunately there are not many placed in the position poor Mary Ryan was that night. I have invited her to come to the Sunday-school entertainment, and her little Joe is to represent the infant Jesus in the tableaux of the crib."

"Oh, that will be splendid. Hurrah!" shouted Bo.

December 23 was a glorious winter day. The sun shone brilliantly, no wind, and the thermometer low enough to keep the skating pond in good condition, the ice and snow on the hills crisp and slippery for coasting. All day long was heard the jingle of sleigh bells and the shouts of merry children enjoying themselves, rang through the air.

Elmer Mullen, who was a boy of sixteen, had formed a great friends.h.i.+p for Bo. He was quite a good musician and seemed attracted towards the little boy because of his musical talent.

Whenever there was any especial fun on hand, Elmer always called for Bo to join him. There were seven boys who always went together--Elmer Mullen, John Montgomery, Joe Davis, Tom Nolan, Walter Rhue and Bolax.

Elmer and John had been prospecting for a hill to make a toboggan slide.