The Opelousas journal. [volume] (Opelousas, La.) 1868-1878, 1875-02-26
Tom.
The New York Tribune has the fol
lowing appreciative article of boys:

Tom slunghis satchel over his shoulder
and set off to school after his ten days
holiday, just Gs unwillingly as when,
200 years ago, the melancholy Jaque:
made him immortal. His morning face
does not shine nowadays, however
there are black dabs Of burnt cork upon
it, after the minstrel performances
which he and the other fellows had last
night. They tone with a fine fitness
with limp sh1rt-collar and unlaced,
muddy shoes. The American school
boy does not whine either; he shows
his inexorable prejudice against learn
ing and authority by banging his slate
against the hall walls, dashing his Caesar
at the pet poodle; he beats a tantara
at his brother Percy door (asleep) after
last nights opera annd supper at Del
monico's, tumbles over Tot on the
stairs, gives her bearish hug, and goes
out, slamming the door, and down the
street, not creeping by any means, but
shouting out, "The fox jumped over
the parsons gate" Or other "chaste
aria," stopping to talk to the police
man, with whom he is on friendly
terms, to follow fre-engine down the
next street, or to swarm with hundred
of his congeners about dog fight or a
procession The house falfs into a
blissful lapse Of silense as soon as he is
out of it the late sleepers turn in
their beds with sigh of relief; the
servants go about repairing damages
with many unspoken oaths Tom ia no
favorite with them they see no use for
him but to seat like glutton and to
order about his betters."
The trouble is that nobody can find
use for Tom he is crude, noisy, NAL
apropos in the house, or the woods, or
the street the one limb of the social
body awkward and ill-set the uncouth
moleoule for which even Tyndall could
find no work in nature. Out of doors
Tom is as sure harbinger of row or
fight as cough is of consumption !;
in doors he stamps out carpets, breaks
china, leaves the print of his paws on
the walls. The land before him may
be an Eden of bric-a-brac, but behind
him will be bowling wilderness. In
literature, nobody found a place for
him but great-hearted gentle Thaek-
cray, who loved and made much of the
lad. His sister, sweet, Christian girl,
who teaches the little wretches in a
mission school with enthusiasm. They
are picturesque through dirt and mis-
cry but what can you make of crea-
ture who mimies your singing of Ah
non giunge (and back with "Give us
the Mulligan Guards, Nancy!" Percy,
a brilliant young lawyer, marked in
society for his fine aesthetic taste, does.
not endure Ton he holds him an un-
mannerly cub, with neither heart nor
brains. His father, out of regard for
his corns, holds him at arms length, and
mentions him only to grtrmble at his
shoe and tailor bills. Percy had been
head of his class in school-a career and
distinction waited for him but what
can be done with this duh, lazy fellow
Even his mother, since he put ON trows,
ers for knickerbockers, has uncon-
sciously drawn away from the boy she
is loving, gentle mother too when
he was baby lying on her breast he
was part of herself, good deal
dearef than herself. But this half
man, half-child. with all his strange de
velopments of cruelty and roughness,
thoughts and ways which are alien to
her own, appalls and perplexes her.
If she is coarse woman she nags and
scolds hin inoessantly il she be of
gentle breeding she quietly leaves him
to himself. At school Tom herds with
the undistinguished rabble. There are
certain pale, broad browed youths
who carry off the prizes at every exhi
bition day, and certain ether broad
shouldered, ruddy fellows who are
masters on the background, but there
are 100 or 200 Toms remarkable in
neither brain nor body they, are neither
head nor foot of the roll the masters
hear their hating lessons droWsily ;
they are worn out with surfeit of
commonplace boy.
Meanwhile, nobody remembers that
Tom is Tom to hinself-the only hero
he knows in the world-the one being
whose pleasure and hurts and chances
for to morrow hs considers night after
night and day after day. You think
that his mind is full of the chunk of
cake he is munching, or the licking he
means to give Joe Peters. But the boy
knows quite well where he stands in
Lie: he sees all the impatient looks,
feels the act in every angry word. He
sees with a keen sight how he is some
how outside of the world Of other peo-
pie; grown men and women have their
place and work outlined and clear his
future and cspability ara all yague-a
mere nothing which nobody concerns
himself much about. There is certain
immortal charm about the baby Tot.
She brought the glory with her when
Z . Il L. >