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Read books online » Fiction » Steve and the Steam Engine by Sara Ware Bassett (best book club books for discussion .txt) 📖

Book online «Steve and the Steam Engine by Sara Ware Bassett (best book club books for discussion .txt) 📖». Author Sara Ware Bassett



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son."

"Well, sorry. And now that you have been so white to me I'm more ashamed still."

"There, there, my boy, we will say no more about it," his father declared. "You and your conscience have probably had a pretty bitter battle and I judge you have not been altogether happy since your adventure. People who do wrong never are. It is no fun to carry your fault to bed with you and find it waiting when you wake up in the morning."

"You bet it isn't!" replied the lad, with fervor. "But can't I do something now to make good, Dad?"

Mr. Tolman checked an impulsive protest and after a moment responded gravely:

"We will see. Perhaps you would like to earn something toward doing over the car."

"Yes! Yes! I would!"

"Well, all that can be arranged later. We—"

"Henry," broke in Mrs. Tolman, "you must go this instant and get into some dry clothes. You are chilled through. The doctor says Stephen is going to be none the worse for his ducking and that he can come down stairs to dinner after he has rested a little longer. So our Thanksgiving party is not to be spoiled, after all. In fact, I believe we shall have more to give thanks for than we expected," concluded she, making an unsteady attempt to speak lightly.

"I think so, too," echoed her husband.

"And so do I!" added Stephen softly, as he exchanged an affectionate smile with his father.

CHAPTER XIX THE END OF THE HOUSE PARTY

As they were persons of strong constitution and in good athletic training neither Mr. Tolman nor Steve were any the worse for the narrow escape of the morning, and although a trifle spent with excitement both were able to take their places at the dinner table so that no cloud rested on the festivity of the day.

Certainly such a dinner never was,—or if there ever had been one like it in history at least Dick Martin had never had the luck to sit down to it. The soup steaming and hot, the celery white and crisp, the sweet potatoes browned in the oven and gleaming beneath their glaze of sugar, the cranberry sauce vivid as a bowl of rubies; to say nothing of squash, and parsnips and onions! And as for the turkey,—why, it was the size of an ostrich! With what resignation it lay upon its back, with what an abject spirit of surrender,—as if it realized that resistance was futile and that it must docilely offer itself up to make perfect the feast. And the pudding, the golden-tinted pies with their delicate crust, the nuts; the pyramid of fruit, riotous in color; the candies of every imaginable hue and flavor! Was it a wonder that Dick, who had never before beheld a real New England home Thanksgiving, regarded the novelty with eyes as large as saucers and ate until there was not room for another mouthful?

"Gee!" he gasped in a whisper to Stephen, as he sank weakly back into his chair when the coffee made its appearance. "This sure is some dinner."

The others who chanced to overhear the observation laughed.

"Had enough, sonny?" inquired Mr. Tolman.

"Enough!"

There was more laughter.

"I suppose were it not for the trains and the ships we should not be having such a meal as this to-day," remarked Mrs. Tolman.

"You are right," was Mr. Ackerman's reply. "Let me see! Fruit from Florida, California and probably from Italy; flour from the Middle West; coffee from South America; sugar probably from Cuba; turkey from Rhode Island, no doubt; and vegetables from scattered New England farms. Add to this cigarettes from Egypt and Turkey and you have covered quite a portion of the globe."

"It is a pity we do not consider our indebtedness to our neighbors all over the world oftener," commented Mr. Tolman. "We take so much for granted these days. To appreciate our blessings to the full we should have lived in early Colonial times when the arrival of a ship from across the ocean was such an important event that the wares she brought were advertised broadcast. Whenever such a vessel came into port a list of her cargo was issued and purchasers scrambled eagerly to secure the luxuries she carried. Pipes of wine, bolts of cloth, china, silks, tea—all were catalogued. It was no ordinary happening when such a boat docked, I assure you."

"I suppose it was a great event," reflected Mrs. Tolman, "although I never half realized it."

"And not only was the advent of merchandise a red-letter day but so was the advent of travelers from the other side of the water. Picture if you can the excitement that ensued when Jenny Lind, the famous singer, visited this country! And the fact that we were now to hear this celebrated woman was not the only reason for our interest. She had actually come in a ship from across the sea! Others would come also. America was no longer cut off from the culture of the old world, an isolated country bereft of the advantages of European civilization. We were near enough for distinguished persons to make trips here! Charles Dickens and the Prince of Wales came—and how cosmopolitan we felt to be entertaining guests from the mother-country! Certainly the Atlantic could not be very wide if it could be crossed so easily and if we could have the same speakers, the same readers, the same singers as did the English! Our fathers and grandfathers must have thrilled with satisfaction at the thought. The ocean was conquered and was no longer an estranging barrier."

"What would they have said to crossing the water by aeroplane or bobbing up in a foreign port in a submarine?" put in Doris.

"And some day I suppose the marvels of our age that cause our mouths to open wide and our eyes to bulge with amazement will become as humdrum as the ocean liner and the Pullman have," Mrs. Tolman remarked.

"Yes," returned her husband. "Think of the fight every one of these innovations has had to put up before it battled its way to success. The first locomotives, you remember, were not only rated as unsafe for travel but also actually destructive to property. The major part of the public had no faith in them and predicted they would never be used for general travel. As for crossing the ocean—why, one was welcome to take his life in his hands if he chose, of course; but to cross in an iron ship—it was tempting Providence! Did not iron always sink? And how people ridiculed Darius Green and his flying machine! Most of the prophets were thought to be crazy. History is filled with stories of men who wrecked their worldly fortunes to perpetuate an idea, and but too frequently an idea they never lived to see perfected."

During the pause that followed Mr. Ackerman leaned across the table and as he sipped his coffee asked mischievously:

"Well, Steve, having now heard both stories, have you come to a conclusion which one you are going to vote for?"

"No, sir," was the dubious response. "I'm farther away from a decision than ever. Just as I get it settled in my mind that the railroads have done the biggest things and conquered the most difficulties along come the steamships and I am certain they are six times as wonderful."

"And you, Dick—what do you say?" questioned the financier, smiling. "Surely you are going to stand up for the steamboat."

But to his chagrin Dick shook his head.

"I feel as Steve does," replied he. "No sooner do I get settled one way than something turns me round the other."

"So far as I can see we shall have to leave the matter a draw, shan't we, Tolman?" observed the New Yorker.

"It would be a jolly subject for a debate, wouldn't it?" put in Stephen. "Sometimes we have discussions like that at school and the next time we do I believe I'll suggest this topic. It would be mighty interesting."

"It certainly would," his father echoed. "But it also would be a very sorry event if you could not demonstrate that the railroads had the supremacy for were their prestige to be threatened I might have to move out of town."

"In case Connecticut did not want you, you might come to New York where you would be sure of being appreciated," put in Mr. Ackerman. "And that is not all talk, either, for I want you and the whole family to give me a promise to-day that you will come over and join Dick and me at Christmas. I've never had a boy of my own to celebrate the holiday with before, you must remember; but this time I have a real family and I am going to have a real Christmas," he continued, smiling affectionately at the lad beside him. "So I want every one of you to come and help me to make the day a genuine landmark. And if I'm a little new at playing Santa Claus some of you who have been schooled in the rôle for many years can show me how. We can't promise to stage for you such an excitement as Stephen got up for us this morning, and we never can give you a dinner equal to this; but we can give you a royal welcome. You can come by boat or come by train," added he slyly. "No guest who patronizes the railroads will be shut out, even if he is misguided. The chief thing is for you to come, one and all, and we will renew our friendship and once again bless Stephen, Dick, and my lost pocketbook, for bringing us together."

FINIS

The first volume in "The Invention Series"

PAUL AND THE
PRINTING PRESS

By SARA WARE BASSETT
With illustrations by A. O. Scott
12mo. Cloth. 218 pages.

Paul Cameron, president of the class of 1920 in the Burmingham High School, conceives the idea of establishing a school paper, to the honor and glory of his class. So The March Hare comes into existence, and Paul and his schoolfellows bend all their energies to making it a success. They have their difficulties and Paul in particular bears the brunt of their troubles, but The March Hare lives up to its reputation for life and liveliness and becomes not only a class success, but a town institution. This is the first volume in "The Invention Series."

"It is the sort of story that boys of fourteen years and upward will enjoy and ought to enjoy, a combination that is rarely achieved."—Boston Post.

"A welcome volume which will appeal to boys who want a good story that will give some information as well."—New York Evening Post.

"'Paul and the Printing Press' not only has a keen story interest, but has the advantage of carrying much valuable information for all young folks for whom the mysterious and all-powerful printing press has an attraction."—Boston Herald.

LITTLE, BROWN & CO., Publishers

34 Beacon Street, Boston

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