Bolax Part 2

"Auntie, why do we burn lamps before statues and holy pictures? Mollie Lane asked me that question when she was in here yesterday, and I did not know how to explain, then she laughed and said it was so funny to have artificial light in the day time."

"My dear, we burn lamps and candles on the altar for several reasons, which it would take too long to tell you just now; when you are older, I will give you a little book called "Sacramentals," which explains all about the lights on our altars, the use of holy water, blessed palm, the crucifix, etc. For the present it suffices to tell any one who questions you that the lamp in our Oratory is kept burning as a mark of respect towards the Sacred Heart of Jesus, and besides it is a pretty ornament."

What a bower of loveliness, peace and rest was the little hall-room which Mrs. Allen set apart as a "Holy of Holies" for her household. A subdued light glimmered through the latticed windows, which also admitted the soft summer air that wafted the fragrance of flowers over the family, as they knelt at their devotion.

There was time to pray in that house, and although its head was not a Catholic, he approved of his family living up to all they professed; in fact he was proud of the little tabernacle in his house, and frequently, when he had visitors, invited them upstairs to see the Oratory.

While Aunt Lucy and Amy were occupied, Bolax went out to the stable hoping Pat, the hired man, would talk to him; but Pat had gone to the village on an errand, then Bo came back to the house and called for his Mamma. As mother did not respond immediately he screamed as loud as he could: "Ma, dear! Ma, dear!"

Mrs. Allen opened her door and asked why he spoke in such a disagreeable tone of voice.

"Well, I have no one to play with," he whined. "I want sister, can't she come down?"

"Now dearie be a good little man, don't whine, go and amuse yourself; Amy is at her lessons with Aunt Lucy, and I am writing to Papa. I should like to be able to tell him you were a good boy."

"Where is Papa now?" asked Bo. "Away off in Kansas, dear."

"There, do not disturb me and I will be with you presently."

Thus left to himself Bo went to his never-failing source of amus.e.m.e.nt--swinging on the gate. While enjoying himself, he heard the rumble of wagon-wheels, and jumped down to see what was coming. It happened to be the milk boy, Pete Hopkins--"h.e.l.lo, Pete!" said Bo.

"h.e.l.lo yourself," said Pete. "Give me a ride," begged Bo. "I don't mind," said the good-natured fellow and jumping out of his cart, lifted the child to the seat beside him.

Bolax had often been allowed to ride to the end of the road with Pete, because Mrs. Allen knew him to be a respectable boy.

When he came to the usual getting-off place, Pete forgot somehow to put the child down, and, of course, Bo couldn't think, he was too much interested in a story Pete was telling about his pet goose, that always followed one of the cows, and came to him to have her head scratched.

Pete did not realize how far he was taking the boy, until the horse stopped before his own door. "Great Scot!" exclaimed he, "I'll ketch it, youngster. I didn't mean to carry you all this way."

"But as you are here, I'll show you the calves and my pet goose." Saying this, Pete lifted Bo out of the cart. The child clapped his hands and shouted with delight as he caught sight of a flock of sheep feeding in the meadow next to the barn, then Pete called Nancy, the pet goose, and Bo laughed at her queer way of waddling from side to side after her master, and gabbling as if trying to talk to him.

"I want to see your colt now," said Bo, Pete asked him to wait a minute while he went into the stable to make sure the colt was tied securely, for the animal was quite unbroken, and children were not to be trusted near him.

Bo waited a "hundred hours," which was always his manner of computing time, when in antic.i.p.ation of pleasure; then spying a nice white pig in a field nearby, rubbing her back against the fence, he made a dash towards her, put one leg through the rails just across piggie's back. Up jumped the pig with the boy astride, whether by accident or design, no one could tell.

Bo was delighted at the unexpected pleasure of a real piggie-back ride, and laughed and shouted in his glee.

Pete having fastened the door of the colt's stall, and made sure he could be safely approached, went out of the stable to call Bolax, but by this time master harum scarum was off on his prancing steed. For a moment, Pete stood amazed not knowing what to make of the strange sight, then finding his voice, called out l.u.s.tily "Hi! Hi! little fellow, stop!

you'll be killed!" At the same time he could scarcely keep his feet for laughing.

Two farmhands tried to "head off" the animal, but Bo had caught hold of her ears to keep himself balanced, and the tighter he held on the wilder ran poor piggie.

Pete's mother came rus.h.i.+ng out, and seeing the dangerous position of the child began scolding, her harsh voice striking terror into the heart of unlucky Pete.

"You big stupid. How come you to let that baby do such a fool trick?"

"Don't stand there gaping. Head off the wild critter or she'll get out on the road."

But the warning came too late, for at that moment down the lane flew the frightened animal, Bolax boldly clinging to its back.

Mrs. Hopkins, her hair all flying, rushed after him making the echoes ring with her screams. Pete bewildered, did not know which way to run; the two hired men and several neighbors joined in the chase.

Finally piggie plunged into a little creek by the roadside and Bo was dismounted. He got a thorough ducking and a few bruises, but received no serious injury.

Mrs. Hopkins carried the child into the house, and having changed his clothes made Pete hitch up the buggy, for, as she said: "I'll take the little imp to his mother, and tell her never to let him show his nose on my place again.

"As for you, Pete Hopkins, if ever I ketch you bringing any child on these premises, you'll be sore for a month."

When Mrs. Allen had written her letter she called Bolax, not finding him on the lawn, she went into the kitchen, supposing Hetty, the cook, was entertaining him, for she often had the children in roars of laughter, with her funny stories about "Brer Rabbit" and the "Pickaninys down Souf."

But Hetty "hadn't laid an eye on dat boy since breakfus."

Mrs. Allen waited a while longer, then became quite uneasy.

Going to the gate she looked up and down the road.

Miss Beldon saw her and asked if she was looking for Bolax. "Yes," said Mrs. Allen, "he has been missing for two hours and I am very much worried about him."

"Well, I saw him get into a wagon right at your gate," said Miss Beldon.

Poor Mrs. Allen began to think of Charlie Ross, and every other kidnapping story she had ever heard of. Aunt Lucy and Amy shared her anxiety.

Pat went into the woods to look for him and Hetty took the road to the village, thinking he might be found in that direction.

Mrs. Allen went to her refuge in all trouble, the Oratory.

There she knelt and implored the Blessed Virgin and St. Joseph to help her find her darling boy; she felt sure the Divine Mother would sympathize with her, in remembrance of the anxiety she had suffered when the Holy Child was lost for three days.

It was nearly noon when Mrs. Hopkins' buggy stopped at the gate. Miss Beldon and Aunt Lucy were overjoyed on seeing the child, Amy ran down the path to meet him, calling back to Mamma that Bolax had been found.

Mrs. Allen, being a very nervous person became hysterical on hearing the good news. Aunt Lucy took the boy in her arms, and the usually happy little face a.s.sumed a grave expression when he saw his mother seated on the piazza with her handkerchief to her eyes.

Mrs. Hopkins told the whole story of the wild ride and begged the ladies never to trust children with her "Pete," for she said: "I must tell you he ain't got the sense of a kitten and he is no more use than a last year's bird's nest with the bottom knocked out."

When Bo saw the state his mother was in, he realized how naughty he had been to leave home without permission. "Dear Ma," said he, "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to stay away. Pete took me by mistake, and I didn't know I was staying so long."

Mrs. Allen said not a word of reproof to the child, but taking his hand, led him quietly upstairs to the Oratory, and left him. Bo felt his mother's silence more keenly than if she had given him a long lecture.

Calling her sister, Mrs. Allen said: "Lucy go to that child, he is in the Oratory. When he comes out, put him to bed. I must keep away from him while I am so excited and nervous; I will wait until I shall have become calm, to reprimand him."

Aunt Lucy went to the door to peep in at Bo; this is the prayer she heard him say: "Dear little Jesus and Holy Mother, I'm sorry I frightened my darling mamma. I didn't know I was away such a long time, but it was such fun, dear Jesus, you would laugh yourself if you had seen me on that pig."

Aunt Lucy ran away from the door, trying to smother her laughter, and going to her sister's room told what she had heard.

"Now, sister," she begged, "do forgive our boy this time, there is no guile in the little soul, and the way he speaks to Our Lord is so sweet, I cannot have the heart to scold him."

"That is all very well, Lucy, but I fear if I trusted him to you always, he would be a very spoiled child."

Here a little voice was heard begging mamma to come and see how sorry her boy was.

Mrs. Allen let the little delinquent off with a mild reproof, and two hours in bed, which he needed as a rest after his wonderful exertions of the morning.