Bolax Part 18

"Oh, bother! It is not an oration; it's just a funny piece about a newsboy, who got into a church and is astonished at all he hears and sees."

THE NEWSBOY'S SOLILOQUY ON HEARING A BOY SING IN CHURCH.

BY THOMAS KELLEY, OF OMAHA.

Well, ye see, I'd sold my papers, Every bloomin' blessed one, And was strollin' round the corner.

Just a prospectin' for fun, I was loafin' by the railin'

Of that church you see right there, With its crosses and its towers, Kind of settin' off the square, And I got a sort of lonesome, For the gang, they weren't around, When I heard a noise of music, Seemed like comin' from the ground.

It was nothin' but some singin', But it sounded mighty fine, Course, I ain't no judge of them things, An' it's no affair o' mine.

Then it seemed to kind o' weaken, And I didn't hear it plain, Till the band struck up a whoopin'

An' heerd it all again.

Well there seemed to be a show there, That I thought I'd like to see, An' there was so many a goin'

I jest says--I'll bet it's free.

So I looks around the corner, An' I makes a careful search, For I knew the kids'd guy me, If they heerd I'd been to Church.

Well, there warn't a soul a-lookin', So I up an' walks right in, An' I sat down in a corner, While they finished up their hymn.

Well, sir! blow me if I ever Was so taken aback!

There was marchin' up the aisle A gang of kids in white an' black.

They was singin' just like angels, An' they looked so slick and nice, I wondered where they got 'em-- Were they always kept on ice?

An' they wore a long black cloak, sir; Comin' to their very feet, An' an overall of white stuff, Just like what's in a sheet.

Then some men came on behind them, Singing loudly as they came, But although the kids was weaker, They got there all the same.

Then behind the whole percession, Came two men, most all in white, An' they wore some fancy biziness, An' they looked jest out o' sight, But they didn't do no singin', Just kept still an' looked ahead, An' says I'll bet they're runnin'

All the show, that's what I said.

Then they all got up in front there, An' the music sounded grand, But to save my neck I couldn't, Get a sight, sir, of the band.

I could hear it as distinctly, So I guessed it must be near, But I saw no men, nor nothin', An' I thought it very queer.

Well, a man was standin' near me, An' I touched him with my hand, Then he looked around and saw me, An' sez I: "Say, where's the band?"

Then he looked at me a grinin', Just as tho' I'd made a joke, That 'ere look he gave me, Made me sorry that I'd spoke.

Then he says: "Why, that's the organ; All those pipes you see up there, One man plays it with his fingers, An' another pumps the air."

Here the music stopped so sudden, That I most forgot myself, An' I heerd some man a talkin'

From a book laid on a shelf.

Then they all got up and read some, First the man, then the crowd, After that they knelt down softly, An' I seed their heads were bowed.

So I bowed my head down too, sir; An' listens to every word, But I didn't understand them, Every time they said, "Good Lord!"

Well they kept that up some longer, Till a plate came down the aisle, An' some people dropped in money, Some others dropped a smile.

I suppose they'd come on pa.s.ses, For they were allowed to stay, So I gave them my four pennies, It was all I had that day.

Then a kid got up in front there, With a paper in his hand, All the rest was sittin' quiet, An' the man tuned up the band.

Well, that kid began a singin'

Till I thought my heart 'ud break, For my throat was full of choking, An' my hands began to shake.

Well, I never seen no angels, An' their songs I never heard, But I'll bet that there's no angel, Beats that kid--for he's a bird.

He was lookin' like a picture, With his robes of white and black, An' I felt my tears a comin', For I couldn't keep 'em back; An' I wondered if he always Was as good as he looked there, Singin' all about the angels, Angels ever bright an' fair, Well thinks I, guess it's easy, To be good and sing so sweet, But you know it's kind o' different, Sellin' papers on the street.

When the kid got thro' his singin'

I got up an' made a sneak, An' I went outside the church there, An' I swear I couldn't speak.

Then I ran across the gang, sir; They was hangin' round for me, But some how I didn't want 'em, An' just why, I couldn't see.

So I said I couldn't join 'em Cos I had another date, An' I went on walking homeward, Like a kid without a mate.

An' I sneaked in just as quiet, An' I lay down on my bed Till I slept an' got a dreamin'

'Bout the angels overhead.

An' they wore such s.h.i.+nin' garments, An' they sang so sweet and fine, An' the one right in the middle Was that singin' kid of mine.

Now I kinder want to know, sir-- So I'm askin', you see-- If them kids can all be angels, Is there any show for me?

Bo was applauded "to the echo," and Professor said that piece should be recited at the May Concert. Just before leaving, every guest had to take a cup of cocoa, as Hetty said. "You all jest drink it up, it will put a web of flannel round you' heart, an' keep out the cold dis freezin'

night."

Elmer and the boys started a college song--"Good Night and Good-Bye 'Till We Meet Again."

CHAPTER XII.

FIRST COMMUNION.

After school closed Mrs. Allen had a serious conversation with her son on the subject of First Holy Communion. "You are now past eleven, dear child, and I want you and Amy to devote the whole vacation to immediate preparation for your First Communion. Sister Amy is thirteen, but owing to her infirmity, has been deprived of that favor until now. I have made arrangements with the Sisters of Mercy to take you for the next six weeks, that you may be under special instruction and away from mischievous pranks and sc.r.a.pes like those of last summer, when in company with the village boys."

"But Ma, dear, six weeks! Will I have to be silent and pray all that time?"

"No, no, my son; there are a few nice boys in the Convent who will remain all summer, so you will not be without recreation. Indeed, you will have plenty of fun, for the Sisters play ball with the boys."

Amy came into the room while her mother was speaking.

"I have just been telling Bolax of what we propose doing by way of preparation for that most important event of our lives, viz: the First reception of our dear Lord in Holy Communion."

"You both know your catechism perfectly, and I am sure understand all you have studied. I know you firmly believe all the sacred truths contained in the Gospels and Teachings of the Catholic Church. For the past three years our talks on the subject have been many and earnest.

You know how kind our dear Lord was while here on earth, how he fed five thousand people in the wilderness. Well, He is just as loving and kind now, and gives us His precious Body and Blood to nourish and comfort our souls. So, dear children, let all your thoughts, words and actions from this day be offered up as a preparation for that greatest of all events of your life, your First Holy Communion."

[Ill.u.s.tration: AMY.]

"We will give up all reading, except books that lead our thoughts to holy things, not necessarily dull or uninteresting because they are holy. You know how delighted you were with 'Fabiola,' 'Faber's Tales of the Angels,' 'Babies Who Died for Christ,' 'The Little Spouse of the Blessed Sacrament.'"

"I should like to read 'Fabiola' again Ma, dear," said Amy. "I always feel--I don't know exactly how to describe my feelings after reading such a book as 'Fabiola'--happy, calm, a longing to have been one of the first Christians to have loved our dear Lord as did little St. Agnes."

"And I," said Bo, "wouldn't I enjoy going round with the big soldier Quadratus, and tearing down the Emperor's edicts against the Christians.

Oh, wouldn't I play tricks on those mean old Pagans; I tell you I'd make them skiddoo."

"Mamma," said Amy, pointing to a painting of Ecce h.o.m.o, "I do so love that sad face; sometimes when I sit here and look at it intently, the eyes seem to open. Once I was so sure of it, I got Hetty to take the picture down. Oh, I feel so sorry for our dear Lord, especially his crown of thorns. Why, oh why, couldn't they have taken it off while he was carrying the cross. He must have struck His sacred head against the cross as he staggered under its heavy weight up that awful road to Calvary," and the gentle, tender-hearted girl sobbed aloud.

Bolax, at this, jumped up, das.h.i.+ng a book against the wall and kicking his chair, he exclaimed: "Oh, if I had been there I would have gotten a crowd of boys and thrown stones at those awful executioners! Surely lots of boys must have known and followed Jesus--what cowards they were! You don't hear of any one offering to help Him; every one was afraid except brave, glorious St. Veronica."

"My dear impetuous boy, I am comforted to know you think of and feel for our suffering Savior."

"What you would have done had you been present at the awful scene on the road to Calvary, do now, by making sacrifices of your own will, suffering something for the love of Jesus."

"You must not compare the American boy with the boys of those long ago times; the Roman soldiers who were driving Jesus were naturally cruel and rejoiced in having a victim on which to exercise their cruelty. They would have exterminated even a crowd of men had they dared to interfere, and boys would have been crushed to death instantly. Mercy was an unknown virtue to the people of those days."

"Mamma," said Amy, "thinking of my general Confession, I feel I must ask your advice on one subject; is it a sin to pray for animals?"

"Oh, Ma, dear," interrupted Bolax, "I want to ask about that too."

"Elmer Mullen laughed at me when I told him I always prayed for poor horses, dogs and cats that I saw badly treated. Sometimes I beg men and boys to cease their cruelties; often I fight those that won't stop tormenting animals, then when all fails I just pray for the poor things.