Wee Johnnie Paterson, & other humorous sketches

Boys

'Boys will be boys'; it is a great pity, but it is an evil we have to face. There is a great difference between the boys of last generation and the present,--not in favour of the latter. They have all the faults of their fathers, with new ones added. It is rather hard on the men of to-day, that when they were boys they were scarcely allowed to speak "in company," and now they never get a chance if there is a boy present.

With the improvement in education, the boy of to-day knows all about everything, and he is eager to make his elders as wise as himself. I have just had a week's experience with one of these walking encyclopædias, and my head is a jumble of statistics, chemistry, and general information, imparted from my nephew, who has been living with us. The first night he came I thought I would interest him by developing some photographs taken on a cycling tour. It did not strike me at the time that being a boy of to-day he knew everything, and I had at once to change the role of instructor for that of pupil. I was just about to start explanations of the process, when he said, "Yes, I know; Franky Scott in our class takes photographs; do you prepare your own plates?" "No," I said, "I buy them." "Oh! you could make them cheaper; I'll tell you how it is done. Nitrate of silver and bromide of potassium throw a white precipitate on the plate; the nitrate, being sensitive to light, receives a black impression of anything thrown on it; and if you want to know any more about it, I'll write to The Boys Own Paper." To preserve my dignity I had to pretend that I knew all about it, but hadn't time to prepare plates. I am sure, however, that before the week was over he saw through me, and felt that if he only had me under his care for a month or two he could make something of me.

Two ladies, who had come from Ayr to see the Exhibition, called on us, and in the course of conversation one asked when we were going to visit them at Ayr. But before I could reply the "encyclopedia" said, "Ayr, on the river of that name, celebrated in connection with the----"

"Hold your tongue," I broke in; but I heard him mumbling, "Poet Burns; population 24,000."

When they spoke of going to the Forth Bridge he set off again. "Its greatest span is 1710 feet, height above water 361 feet, while its total length is 2766½ yards."

He seemed delighted when it was arranged that he should go to the Exhibition with the ladies; and so was I, as I was not going. No doubt he was thinking of the amount of information he could give them, acting as guide; but he was rather crestfallen when he came home and told me that he stupidly, at their request, took them to the Women's Section, and could not get them out. He wanted to explain dynamos to them.

I remember when I was his age my ambition was to be an engine-driver, but he says he would like to be a professor of chemistry.

I think teachers nowadays make a mistake in adding logic to their subjects for study; there is more than enough of it inherent in boys. One night his mother was telling him how bad he had been, and asked if he would try to be good. Of course he promised.

"Well, will you begin to-morrow?"

"Oh! that's awfully soon," he said.

Ages may come and go, but boys will remain the same as far as anything bad is concerned. Give a boy an apple, and he will not enjoy it to the full till he finds another boy beside whom he can eat it, the other boy's envy bringing out its full flavour.

The other day I was going to Glasgow; and having no desire to go via Queensferry on the North British line, I went to the Caledonian Station. As I had a few minutes to spare, I was looking through the railings to the Lothian Road, when my attention was drawn to a boy dropping a copper into the tin dish of a blind man who was reading the Bible. The reading suddenly stopped; but before the man could put his hand in the dish the penny was quietly withdrawn, dangling at the end of a string. The operation was repeated, and the third trial convinced the man that he was being "sold." "There he's coming again!" said the boy. The man grasped a heavy stick, and just as a minister was passing he received a firm broad cut across the middle of his vest. As soon as he recovered he looked about for a policeman to give the man in charge, but I hurried down and explained to him. I may have been mistaken, but I thought I recognised him from a sketch I had seen as one who had taken a prominent part in the Queen's Park Demonstration, and I strangely seemed to forgive the boy, who however had not waited for pardon.

My nephew was not long in the house till he had examined everything, and among other things he fished out an old album with a musical box attached. I had put it aside some years ago as broken. "Put it out of the way," I said, "it's useless." But this only added to his curiosity: he took it to another room, and soon brought it back, playing at a furious rate, as if glad at being released, and anxious to make up for lost time. I hate musical boxes. One never knows what they are playing, and, like boys, they seem anxious to exhibit all they know. An explanation of what had been wrong was given to me in a tone which showed my informant saw that mechanics was another thing I knew little of. The disconnecting action of the swivel had--something or another, I forget what; but all that was required was--something else. I said I had never bothered about it, which was quite true; but I am sure he felt I could not have mended it if I had tried.

The pace of the tunes gradually got slower, and what at first seemed to be a hornpipe was now like a dead march. Then it seemed to be going to sleep, and a note only came out now and then, and it slept, but not for long; he had found that the key of the dining-room clock fitted it, and he wound it up again.

"Oh! take it away," I said; and he went off to the next room, but no doors could keep out the sound.

A happy thought occurred to me: I would give him a pistol to keep him quiet. (When I was a boy I was the envy of all my companions, being the possessor of a shilling muzzle-loader. But here was a breech-loading Tranter: how much greater would be his delight!) I called him and said, "There's a pistol and a box of cartridges; go out to the garden and see if you can shoot a crow." I expected he would receive it with delight, but he looked at it with the air of a connoisseur and said, "Franky Scott has a pin-fire." I explained that this was a later and better invention, and he seemed pleased that he would be able to "take the bounce" out of Franky Scott when he saw him. He seemed to be having good sport, judging by the number of shots he was firing, and it was not much of an improvement on the musical box. When he came in to dinner he said it was a "stunner." He did not shoot well at first, but after a little he could strike the label on a box, and some of the bullets went right through.