Butler citizen. [volume] (Butler, Pa.) 1877-1922, 1899-03-16
How the Mistake Occurred
By Edmund Lyons

! M~->-%-se-~%-S-<-S
TT WAS certainly a charming locality
in which DR.. Stagmire's Select
| Academy for Young Gentlemen" was
| situated, about a hundred miles from
New York. The ground sloped gently
| from the house to the river, and in the
near background were high hills and
lakes and valleys. The pupils parents
who came from a distance were gen
! orally very much attracted by the
| beauty Of the scenery.
There was another academy within
| a mile of us, but this, as the doorplate
| informed those who cared to know, was
a Young Ladies Preparatory Semi
nary" l don't believe any Of the boys
of Dr. Stagmire's school, with the single
exception of myself, knew any of the
inmates of Miss Dunning's establish
ment. Ny acquaintance with the good
natured servant, Fanny Barnes, was
due to our meeting at the post office
in the village, where we were taking
and receiving letters for the respective
schools.
One cloudy day IN September my ia
ther came to visit me at DR.. Stagmire's.
He was called by business to California,
and was to be away for three months.
He asked for half holiday, which was
gladly granted, for DR.. Stag1nire was
seldom averse to allowing this little in
diligence to himself and his pupils.
When he was going away my father
placed a coin in my hand.
Dick, my boy" he said, there is
ten-dollar gold piece. Don't be ex-
travagant with It, for I am not rich, but
don't be stingy."
I was not stingy. The very next aft
ernoon, DR.. Staginire kindly consent
ing, and even accompanying the process
sion, went, followed by all my school
mates, two abreast, to the only refresh
ment saloon in the village, where we
were furnished, ad Hbitum, with sand
wiches and ice cream, while the nom
invited village boys scuffled with each
other for the best places outside the
ruuow 10 waUcIr N
l was a proud boy, indeed, when DR..
Stagmire econdescended TO eat two sand
wiches and plate of ice cream at my
expense, and yet prouder one when,
with my respected principal beside me,
I again headed the long line Of boys and
marched to the counter, where, some
what ostentatiously, I fear, threw
down my coin. Then the fact was de-
veloped that the ten-dollar gold piece
was bad one.
The procession on its way back to
the school was perhaps a little disor-
ganized. l. as heretofore, was in adj
vance, with DIR. Stagmire beside me,
while my schoolmates followed, boil
ing over with very indifferently-sup-
pressed contempt.
The good doctor had willingly paid
my bill, and as we walked home he as
sured me that he had no doubt there
was a mistake somewhere, which,
sooner or later, would be explained.
The boys, was sorry to find, took a
different view of the situation, and Tom
Carroll, who was said to have the power
of standing longer on one foot than any
other Of the pupils, remarked:
"If Blanchard's father gave him bad
ten-dollar piece, then Mr.. Blanchard
must be very queer kind of a man.
That is all | have TO say"
Tom did himself an injustice. That
was not quite all he had to say. The
next day he said more. twas, in effect,
that if young Blanchard had not re-
ceived the coin from his father, but had,
simply, tried to pass off spurious piece
obtained elsewhere with this paltry
tale, he was very queer kind of boy
/ suppose there are many boys who
would have resented these remarks Of
Tom Carroll. did not do so. was not
quarrelsome, and | liked Tom. | was
sure that some mistake existed that
would be explained eventually. And,
besides, Tom was half foot taller than
I, and my chances Of satisfying him by
physical force that he was wrong would
have been Of very slender kind. So
the days passed by, and went moping-
ly about alone, and had no sympa-
thizers.
Yes, Que. At first 1t was not thought
quite safe to let me have charge of the
letters, but the post office duty" was
not fayorite one, and | was soon al
lowed to do it, when my turn came, as
before; and again met Fanny Barnes
and told her about my trouble.
81 don't believe IT," she said en-
phatically. 81 never saw your father,
but | am sure he cannot be n robber.
He never gave you the coin"
My father was certainly not rob
ber" But that he had given me the
coin, and advised me TO be neither ex-
travagant nor stingy with it, did not
admit of a doubt. | said so.
"Then," said Fanny, after pmoments
intense thought, "he did not know that
it was bad one"
Now, surely, there would have been
no suggestion more reasonable than
this, but | had offered it so often and
so vainly TO the boys that | felt no de-
sire to advance it again. Then my
kindly adviser made a second proposal:
"Why don't you write TO your father
and tell him of it?"
But / had determined to write neither
to my father in California, nor to my
mother in New York, relative to the
bad coin. l thought that to do so would
be an insult
linen am sure l uOlL hAo" "A%''
you can do" said the young woman,
comprehensively. You can't go to
your father and he is not coming TO
you. Those horrid boys will go on
tormenting you, OF course; butyou can
only wait"
It was drawing very near to the
Christmas vacation when my father re-
turned from California. He came again
to the school and walked unexpectedly
into the playground, where the boys
were all gathered in a group engaged