Poor and Proud; Or, The Fortunes of Katy Redburn: A Story for Young Folks


CHAPTER X.

KATY, IN DISTRESS, FINDS A CHAMPION.

Now that she had recovered the precious watch Katy had nothing to engage her attention but the business of selling candy. The success that had attended her forenoon's exertions was gratifying beyond her expectations, and she felt as though she had already solved the problem; that she was not only willing but able to support her mother. She had originated a great idea, and she was proud of it.

Just as soon, therefore, as she had told her mother all about the recovery of the watch, she prepared another tray of candy, resolved to sell the whole of it before she returned. Her mother tried to induce her to stay in the house and rest herself, but her impatience to realize the fruits of her grand idea would not permit her to remain inactive a single hour.

"Now, mother, I shall sell all this candy before dark; so don't be uneasy about me. I am going to make lots of money, and you shall have everything you want in a few weeks," said Katy, as she put on her bonnet.

"I wish you would stay at home, and rest yourself; you have done enough for one day."

"I am not tired a bit, mother; I feel just as if I could walk a hundred miles."

"That's because you have got a new notion in your head. I am afraid you will be sick, and then what should we do?"

"O, I shan't get sick; I promise you I won't," replied Katy, as she left the room.

Unfortunately for the little candy merchant it was Wednesday afternoon, and as the schools did not keep, there were a great many boys in the street, and many of them were very rude, naughty boys. When she passed up the court, some of them called out to her, and asked her where she was going with all that candy. She took no notice of them, for they spoke very rudely, and were no friends of hers. Among them was Johnny Grippen, whose acquaintance the reader made on the pier of South Boston bridge. This young ruffian led half a dozen others down the court in pursuit of her, for possibly they were not satisfied with the cavalier manner in which Katy had treated them.

"Where are you going with all that candy?" repeated the juvenile bully, when he overtook her in Essex Street.

"I am going to sell it," replied Katy, finding she could not escape.

"Give us a junk, will you?" said Johnny.

"I can't give it away; I am going to sell it, to get money for my mother."

"Won't you give a feller a piece?"

"I can't now; perhaps I'll give you some another time."

Katy's heart beat violently, for she was very much alarmed, knowing that Johnny had not followed her for nothing. As she made her firm but conciliatory reply, she moved on, hoping they would not attempt to annoy her. It was a vain hope, for Johnny kept close to her side, his eyes fixed wistfully on the tempting array of sweets she carried.

"Come, don't be stingy, Katy," continued Johnny.

"I don't mean to be; but I don't think I owe you anything," replied Katy, gathering courage in her desperate situation.

"What do you mean by that?" demanded the little ruffian, as he placed himself in front of her, and thus prevented her further progress.

"Don't stop me; I'm in a hurry," said Katy.

"Gi' me some candy, then."

"No, I won't!" answered Katy, losing her patience.

"Won't you?"

Johnny made a dive at the tray, with the intention of securing a portion of the candy; but Katy adroitly dodged the movement, and turning up a narrow alley way, ran off. Johnny was not to be balked, and followed her; and then she found she had made a bad mistake in getting off the street, where there were no passers-by to interfere in her favor.

"Johnny!" shouted one of the bully's companions. "Johnny, Tom Howard is coming."

"Let him come!" replied Johnny, doggedly.

He did not half like the insinuation conveyed in the words of his associates; for to tell him, under the circumstances, that Tommy was coming, was as much as to say he was afraid of him. Now, as we have said, Johnny Grippen was a "fighting character," and had a reputation to maintain. He gloried in the name of being able to whip any boy of his size in the neighborhood. He was always ready to fight, and had, perhaps, given some hard knocks in his time; but he sustained his character rather by his talent for bullying, than by any conquests he had won. On the whole he was a miserable, contemptible little bruiser whom no decent boy could love or respect. He talked so big about "black eyes," "bloody noses" and "smashed heads," that few boys cared to dispute his title to the honors he had assumed. Probably some who felt able to contest the palm with him, did not care to dirty their fingers upon the bullying cub.

Sensible people, whether men or boys, invariably despise the "fighting character," be he young or old. Nine times out of ten he is both a knave and a fool, a coward and a bully.

On the other hand, Tommy Howard was one of those hearty, whole-souled boys, who are the real lions of the playground. He was not a "fighting character;" and being a sensible boy, he had a hearty contempt for Johnny Grippen. He was not afraid of him, and though he never went an inch out of his way to avoid a fight with him, it so happened they had never fought. He was entirely indifferent to his threats, and had no great opinion of his courage. Johnny had "stumped" him to fight, and even taken off his coat and dared him to come; but Tommy would laugh at him, tell him to put on his coat or he would catch cold; and, contrary to the general opinion among boys, no one ever thought the less of him for the true courage he exhibited on these occasions.

Johnny did not like to be told that Tommy was coming, for it reminded him that, as the king bully of the neighborhood, one of his subjects was unconquered and rebellious. But Johnny had discretion—and bullies generally have it. He did not like that cool, independent way of the refractory vassal; it warned him to be cautious.

"What's the matter, Katy?" asked Tommy, as he came with quick pace up the court, without deigning to cast even a glance at the ruffian who menaced her.

"Stand by, fellers, and see fair play, and I'll lick him now," said Johnny, in a low tone, to his companions.

"He won't let me go," replied Katy, pointing to her assailant.

"Go ahead, Katy; don't mind him."

"Won't you give me some candy?" said Johnny, stepping up before her again.

"Go ahead, Katy," repeated Tommy, placing himself between her and the bully. "Don't mind him, Katy."

As she advanced, Johnny pushed forward, and made another dive at the tray, but Katy's champion caught him by the arm and pulled him away.

"You mind out!" growled the bully, doubling up his fists, and placing himself in the most approved attitude, in front of the unwhipped vassal.

"Go ahead, Katy; clear out as fast as you can," said Tommy, who, though his bosom swelled with indignation, still preserved his wonted coolness; and it was evident to the excited spectators that he did not intend to "mind out."

"Come on, if you want to fight!" shouted Johnny, brandishing his fists.

"I don't want to fight; but you are a mean, dirty blackguard, or you wouldn't have treated a girl like that," replied Tommy, standing as stiff as a stake before the bully.

"Say that again, and I'll black your eye for you."

"Once is enough, if you heard me; but I will tell your father about it."

"Will you? Just say that again."

Somehow, it often happens that bullies want a person to say a thing over twice, from which we infer that they must be very deaf or very stupid. Tommy would not repeat the offensive remark, and Johnny's supporters began to think he was not half so anxious to fight as he seemed, which was certainly true. I have no doubt, if they had been alone, he would have found a convenient excuse for retiring from the field, leaving it unsullied by a black eye or a bloody nose.

My young friends will excuse me from digressing so far as to say that, in more than a dozen years with boys, in school and out, I have never heard of such a thing as two boys getting up a fight and having it out alone. There must be a crowd of bruisers and "scallewags" around, to keep up the courage of the combatants. Therefore, those who look on are just as bad as those who fight, for without their presence the fight could not be carried through.

Tommy Howard had said all he had to say, and was therefore ready to depart. He turned to do so, and walked several steps down the alley, though he kept one eye over his shoulder to guard against accidents.

"Hit him, Johnny!" cried one of the vagabond troops that followed in the train of the bully.

"He darsen't fight," replied Johnny.

"Nor you, nuther," added another of the supporters.

This was too much for Johnny. It cut him to the quick, and he could not stand it. If he did not thrash Tommy now, his reputation would be entirely ruined.

"Darsen't I?" exclaimed he. "Come back here;" but as Tommy did not come, he ran up behind him, and aimed a blow at the side of his head.

Katy's intrepid defender, who had perhaps read in some Fourth of July oration that "eternal vigilance is the price of liberty," was not to be surprised, and facing about, he warded off the blow. Johnny's imperiled reputation rendered him desperate. He had gone too far to recede, and he went into action with all the energy and skill of a true bruiser. Tommy was now fully roused, and his blows, which were strictly in self-defense, fell rapidly and heavily on the head of his assailant. But I am not going to give my young readers the particulars of the fight; and I would not have let Tommy engage in such a scene, were it not to show up Johnny as he was, and finish the portrait of him which I had outlined; to show the difference between the noble, generous, brave, and true-hearted boy, and the little bully, whom all my young friends have seen and despised.

In something less than two minutes, Johnny Grippen, after muttering "foul play," backed out with bloody nose, as completely whipped, and as thoroughly "cowed down," as though he had been fighting with a royal Bengal tiger. His supremacy was at an end, and there was danger that some other bold fellow might take it into his head to thrash the donkey after the lion's skin had been stripped from his shoulders.

"If you are satisfied now, I'll go about my business," said Tommy, as he gazed with mingled pity and contempt upon his crest-fallen assailant.

"You don't fight fair," grumbled Johnny, who could not account for his defeat in any other way. "If you're a mind to fight fair, I'll try it again with you some time."

"I don't fight for the fun of it. I only fight when some cowardly bully like you comes at me, and I can't help myself. When you feel like whipping me again, you needn't stop to let me know it beforehand. But I will tell you this much: if you ever put your hand on Katy Redburn, or meddle with her in any way, I promise to pound you as handsomely as I know how, fair or foul, the very next time I meet you, if it isn't for seven years. Just bear that in mind."

Johnny made no reply; he was not in a condition to make a reply, and the victor in the conquest departed, leaving the bully to explain his defeat as best he could to his admirers and supporters.

"He did not hurt you—did he?" asked Katy, as Tommy joined her at the foot of the alley, where she had been anxiously waiting the result of the encounter.

"Not a bit, Katy. He talks very loud, but he is a coward. I'm sorry I had to thrash him though I think it will do him good."

"I was afraid he'd hurt you. You were very kind to save me from him, Tommy. I shall never forget you, as long as I live, and I hope I shall be able to do something for you one of these days."

"Oh, don't mind that, Katy. He is an ugly fellow, and I wouldn't stand by and see him insult a girl. But I must go now. I told Johnny if he ever meddled with you again I should give him some; if he does, just let me know."

"I hope he won't again," replied Katy, as Tommy moved towards home.

This was Katy's first day in mercantile life; it had been full of incidents, and she feared her path might be a thorny one. But her light heart soon triumphed over doubts and fears, and when she reached Washington Street, she was as enthusiastic as ever, and as ready for a trade.




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