For several days after their unsuccessful fishing expedition, Jack1 and Matt were extremely obedient and undemonstrative. Village school teachers, in that country, were not unfrequently the stout-armed sons of farmers, and when they plied3 the rod, any memory of the occasion was not likely soon to become dimmed. It was perhaps for this reason that even when Matt or Jack amused himself by whistling, the airs selected were sure to have been written on minor4 keys, and that both boys sought earnestly, each by himself, for some method of setting some positive moral success against their late failure at benevolence5.
The opportunity did not linger long. Matt was sitting in the house one evening, wondering whether to go to bed at once, or wrestle6 again with an exasperating7 problem in cube root, the answer to which, as printed in the book, he felt thrice assured was wrong, when a long whistle of peculiar8 volume and inflection informed him that Jack was outside and had something to communicate. Matt sprang to his feet, for only a matter of extreme importance would have brought Jack across town at so late an hour. The worst boy in town was found by Matt to be hanging across the garden gate and so powerfully charged with virtuous10 indignation that he was unable to contain it all.
"Look here, Matt," said he, "you know what an awful thing whiskey is, don't you?"
"I should think I did," replied Matt, "Havn't I been to every temperance meeting that's been held?"
"So you have," said Jack, "Well what do you think? There's Hoccamine, the corner storekeeper, gone and bought seven barrels."
"Isn't that dreadful!" exclaimed Matt. "If he starts a rum-shop here, it'll spoil the custom of his store."
"He isn't going to have a bar," explained Jack, "he's going to sell by the gallon. But what's the difference?—rum is rum, and it does harm, no matter in what way it is sold."
"It's perfectly11 awful," said Matt.
"All right," said Jack, "Now I'll tell you what I propose. It wasn't brought up to the store until after dark—I suppose they were ashamed—and it is on the sidewalk beside their store, to be put down cellar as soon as the clerks come in the morning." Then Jack put his lips down to Matt's ear, and whispered, "Let's spill it for them?"
"Gracious!" whispered Matt, "how can we?"
"Easily enough," said Jack. "We'll bore a gimlet hole in each barrel, and it'll have all night to run. I've got a gimlet. You slip out of the house about twelve o'clock, and so will I; we'll meet at the church steps, and then unchain the demon2 only to destroy him forever." (Jack's last clause was quoted verbatim from a temperance address to which he had lately listened.)
"I'm your man," said Matt.
"I knew you would be," Jack replied; "I could have done it alone, but I was sure you'd enjoy helping12, and I'm not the sort of fellow that goes back on a friend, you know. Twelve o'clock sure,—does your clock strike the hours?"
"Yes."
"So does ours. Can you keep awake until then? If you can't I'll give you half of my cloves13 to eat. I've saved them the past few Sunday nights when I havn't been sleepy in church."
Matt accepted the proffered14 assistance, and Jack departed, while Matt went into the house and to bed with the firm conviction that he was too excited to sleep any for a week to come. It was nine when he retired15, and at the stroke of ten he had not had occasion to touch the cloves except to nibble16 the blossom end from one, just to have a pleasant taste in his mouth. It was many hours, apparently17 before the clock struck eleven; had it not been for the loud persistent18 ticking Matt would have believed the old timepiece had stopped. As it was, he had fully9 made up his mind that the striking weight had not been wound, when suddenly the hammer rattled19 off eleven. Between eleven and twelve, Matt ate all the cloves, pinched himself nearly black and blue, pulled his hair, rubbed his ears, and did everything else he had ever heard of as an antidote20 to sleepiness. Finally he dressed himself and descended21, intending to be at the front door when the clock should strike. As he stepped from the last stair his foot fell upon the family cat, who habitually22 reposed23 upon a rug lying just there, and the cry which that cat uttered was more appalling24 to Matt than the roar of a royal Bengal tiger would have been. Matt's parents, however, had clear consciences, so the agonized25 scream did not seem to awaken26 them. Then Matt's heart beat so violently that he began to wonder why the sound of its throbs27 did not shake the house. He tiptoed to the door, but his shoes squeaked28, and though he experimented, by setting down his feet, heel first, by walking on the outer edge of his shoes, and then upon the inner, the squeak29 continued. Then he sat upon the floor and removed his shoes, when, to his great relief, the clock struck twelve. Why that clock did not rouse him with its clamor every night and every time it struck was a great mystery to him as he softly opened the door, closed it, sped away in his stockinged feet, and determined30 to smuggle31 a bit of soap out of the house and settle with those stockings before they went to the family washtub.
Reaching the church, Matt was sure he saw a shadow hold up a gaunt forefinger32 by way of warning, but this speedily resolved itself into Jack, who was elevating the gimlet, and who approached and whispered—
"In hoc signo vinces," as old Constantine says in the "Universal School History."
Both boys hugged every fence and wall until they reached the offending barrels; then Matt's heart began pumping again, receiving some sympathy from that of Jack. The last-named youth suddenly whispered,
"Want to strike the first blow?"
"I guess not," said Matt, flattening33 himself as closely as possible against the wall of the store. "You thought of it first."
Jack knelt before one of the barrels, bored a hole as low as possible, and a small stream of liquid and a strong smell of whiskey appeared instantly and at the same time. Then another hole was bored at the top, to admit air, and the industry of the stream increased suddenly, as Jack learned by a jet which struck his own trowsers and made itself felt on the skin beneath. Matt operated upon the second barrel, Jack unlocked the demon in the third, and so the boys proceeded alternately, until while over the sixth barrel Matt's enthusiasm interfered34 with his steadiness of hand and he broke the gimlet.
"That's too bad," whispered Jack. "I guess we'd better leave, but old Hoccamine won't find five empty barrels a very small hint to stop outraging35 the sentiments of the inhabitants of this town."
Both boys made haste to depart, wasting no time in formal adieux. As soon as they had reached the church and cemetery36, in neither of which they feared listeners, Jack exclaimed in a low tone
"This is a proud day for Doveton, Matt; can't you make some excuse to come up town in the morning to hear Hoccamine swear when he learns about it?"
"I'll ask mother if she doesn't need something from some store," said Matt; "good night."
The boys went their separate ways, each unconsciously carrying the smell of whiskey in the shoe soles which had several times been wet with it, as they moved about the sidewalk, so when Mr. and Mrs. Bolton awoke in the morning, it was not strange that the lady exclaimed—
"Where can that strong smell of whiskey come from? I didn't know there was a drop in the house."
"Nor I," said Mr. Bolton. The odor could not be attributed to the servant, for she lived elsewhere, and had not yet come to her daily labor37. Mrs. Bolton was not superior to the ordinary human interest in mystery, so she continued,
"Where can it be? Oh, husband, it can't be that Matt, our only darling boy, is getting into bad ways?"
Mr. Bolton sprang from his bed and hurried to Matt's room; there were too many other fourteen-year old boys in Doveton who had already trifled with liquor, and Matt's father had at once become suspicious. But he returned in a moment saying,
"Thank God, it isn't that; the blessed scamp's breath is as sweet as it was when he was a baby. But what can it be?"
Mr. Bolton quickly dressed himself and went through the house, but soon hurried back exclaiming—
"Thieves! The front door is ajar."
Both householders took part in a hasty search, but Mrs. Bolton found her silver spoons safe though they had been in plain view in a dining-room closet. Mr. Bolton found no clothing missing, nor could the subsequent search prove that anything whatever had been taken.
"I have it!" exclaimed Mrs. Bolton suddenly. "I heard the cat scream terribly in the night. It is plain that the rascal38 stepped upon her, and then ran away, supposing her noise would arouse the house. What a narrow escape!"
Matt slept throughout the excitement like one who has a conscience which was not only void of offense39, but had the additional peace which comes of virtuous deeds successfully accomplished40. It was only after considerable effort, indeed, that he could be roused at breakfast time. As for Jack, he was up long before the lark41, and on his way to the market (which was opposite Hoccamine's store) to purchase some scraps42 of meat for a mythical43 dog. He meekly44 stood outside with his package, for what seemed to him centuries, awaiting the opening of Hoccamine's store. Then he hurried home, ate the merest excuse for a breakfast, and cooled his heels at Matt's wood-pile for at least an hour, and when his companion finally appeared, yawning profoundly, Jack shouted—
"Oh, Matt, 'twas worth a million dollars. Hurry up, can't you?"
Matt quickly roused himself to consciousness that life was real, life was earnest, and joined Jack, who exclaimed—
"Fun? why there was oceans of it, with hundreds of lakes and ponds thrown in. First there came along old Burt, on his way to market, and as soon as he saw the stuff in little puddles45 by the curbstone, and smelt46 what it was, he just lay down on his stomach and began to drink. He signed the pledge at the last temperance meeting, too; isn't it awful? Then Captain Sands came along, and stopped to look, and so did Squire47 Jones and Joe, the barber, and everybody that came to market saw the crowd and went over, so I thought 'twas safe to go over myself. All of a sudden over came Hoccamine, who had been to market, and then—well, you never heard such swearing at a fight. He declared that somebody had been stealing it, and Squire Jones told him it was a righteous judgment48 on him, and then Hoccamine swore some more and called the Squire names, and the Squire said he'd never buy another penny's worth from a man who had abused him in that way, and Hoccamine told him to take his infernal pennies and buy of—of the old fellow down below, you know, if he chose. Then Hoccamine opened the store and got out some pails and scoop-shovels, and tried to save some of the liquor out of the gutter49. Oh, it was just glorious." And Jack, unable to express his feelings in any other way, danced about madly and jumped over several logs of wood.
Then Matt, who has listened with considerable interest, yet with a pre-occupied air, told the story of the attempted burglary, but explained away the supposition that the thief was scared off by the cat.
"That shows," said Jack, briskly, "how necessary the work was that we did last night. Whiskey made that thief, you see—I shouldn't wonder if what you were about at the same time had something to do with his being influenced to go away. Don't you know how these things happen in books sometimes? I once read—"
Jack suddenly ceased talking, but burst out laughing, and finally dropped upon the chips and rolled about in a perfect convulsion of laughter, while Matt looked on in mute astonishment50.
"Oh, Matt," he exclaimed finally, "don't you understand? That smell of whiskey was on you somewhere—I smell it now. And you were so excited when you went in, that you forgot to latch51 the door—I've done the same thing, once or twice. Oh, oh, oh, that's too rich. I'll die if I can't tell somebody."
Matt immediately swore his companion to strict secresy, but later in the day, which happened to be Saturday, he became so uncomfortable at hearing his father discuss the attempted burglary with everyone who entered the store that he confessed the whole affair to Mr. Bolton. That gentleman made a valiant52 effort at reproof53, but he did not love Hoccamine more than business rivals usually love each other, and he was an earnest advocate of total abstinence, so he made some excuse to get at his account books, and for the remainder of the day he was subject to violent fits of laughter whenever he was not trying to truthfully modify his story of the burglary to the many acquaintances who came in to enquire54 about it.
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1
jack
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| n.插座，千斤顶，男人；v.抬起，提醒，扛举；n.（Jake）杰克 | |
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demon
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| n.魔鬼，恶魔 | |
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plied
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| v.使用（工具）( ply的过去式和过去分词 )；经常供应（食物、饮料）；固定往来；经营生意 | |
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minor
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| adj.较小(少)的，较次要的；n.辅修学科；vi.辅修 | |
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benevolence
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| n.慈悲，捐助 | |
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wrestle
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| vi.摔跤，角力；搏斗；全力对付 | |
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7
exasperating
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| adj. 激怒的 动词exasperate的现在分词形式 | |
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8
peculiar
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| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
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9
fully
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| adv.完全地，全部地，彻底地；充分地 | |
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10
virtuous
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| adj.有品德的，善良的，贞洁的，有效力的 | |
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perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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12
helping
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| n.食物的一份&adj.帮助人的，辅助的 | |
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13
cloves
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| n.丁香（热带树木的干花，形似小钉子，用作调味品，尤用作甜食的香料）( clove的名词复数 )；蒜瓣(a garlic ~|a ~of garlic) | |
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14
proffered
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| v.提供，贡献，提出( proffer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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15
retired
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| adj.隐退的，退休的，退役的 | |
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nibble
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| n.轻咬，啃；v.一点点地咬，慢慢啃，吹毛求疵 | |
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17
apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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18
persistent
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| adj.坚持不懈的，执意的；持续的 | |
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19
rattled
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| 慌乱的，恼火的 | |
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antidote
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| n.解毒药，解毒剂 | |
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21
descended
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| a.为...后裔的，出身于...的 | |
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22
habitually
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| ad.习惯地，通常地 | |
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23
reposed
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| v.将（手臂等）靠在某人（某物）上( repose的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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24
appalling
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| adj.骇人听闻的，令人震惊的，可怕的 | |
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25
agonized
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| v.使（极度）痛苦，折磨( agonize的过去式和过去分词 )；苦斗；苦苦思索；感到极度痛苦 | |
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26
awaken
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| vi.醒，觉醒；vt.唤醒，使觉醒，唤起，激起 | |
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27
throbs
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| 体内的跳动( throb的名词复数 ) | |
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28
squeaked
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| v.短促地尖叫( squeak的过去式和过去分词 )；吱吱叫；告密；充当告密者 | |
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29
squeak
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| n.吱吱声，逃脱；v.（发出）吱吱叫，侥幸通过；（俚）告密 | |
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30
determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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31
smuggle
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| vt.私运；vi.走私 | |
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32
forefinger
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| n.食指 | |
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33
flattening
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| n. 修平 动词flatten的现在分词 | |
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34
interfered
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| v.干预( interfere的过去式和过去分词 )；调停；妨碍；干涉 | |
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35
outraging
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| 引起…的义愤，激怒( outrage的现在分词 ) | |
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36
cemetery
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| n.坟墓，墓地，坟场 | |
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37
labor
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| n.劳动，努力，工作，劳工；分娩；vi.劳动，努力，苦干；vt.详细分析；麻烦 | |
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38
rascal
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| n.流氓；不诚实的人 | |
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39
offense
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| n.犯规，违法行为；冒犯，得罪 | |
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40
accomplished
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| adj.有才艺的；有造诣的；达到了的 | |
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41
lark
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| n.云雀，百灵鸟；n.嬉戏，玩笑；vi.嬉戏 | |
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42
scraps
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| 油渣 | |
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43
mythical
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| adj.神话的；虚构的；想像的 | |
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44
meekly
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| adv.温顺地，逆来顺受地 | |
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45
puddles
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| n.水坑， （尤指道路上的）雨水坑( puddle的名词复数 ) | |
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46
smelt
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| v.熔解，熔炼；n.银白鱼，胡瓜鱼 | |
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47
squire
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| n.护卫, 侍从, 乡绅 | |
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48
judgment
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| n.审判；判断力，识别力，看法，意见 | |
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49
gutter
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| n.沟，街沟，水槽，檐槽，贫民窟 | |
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50
astonishment
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| n.惊奇，惊异 | |
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51
latch
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| n.门闩，窗闩；弹簧锁 | |
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52
valiant
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| adj.勇敢的，英勇的；n.勇士，勇敢的人 | |
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53
reproof
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| n.斥责，责备 | |
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54
enquire
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| v.打听，询问；调查，查问 | |
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