University of Virginia Library

30. CHAPTER XXX.
MR. PARMENTER MORE THAN EVER ACTIVE.

People with a strong turn for being busy have their
times and seasons, like other things and beings, and
sometimes are stirred up to special busyness. Our Mr.
Parmenter had his busier times. If we might use a
poetical figure about a man who was not poetical, we
should say that that strong sea-swell which had floated
on its bosom the grand project of “Graduated Endowment”
broke itself up into many wavelets of lesser
activity, before sinking back to the common level of the
sea.

The noise of the fights had reached the alert and
active ears of Mr. Parmenter, and not less the story
of Gaston's and Brade's ambitious adventures among
Words and Languages. The turkey, stolen and recovered,
had occupied his attention; the traps, and Rainor's
supposed connection with them, had not escaped him;
he knew of the Rosicrucian mystery.

In all these, Mr. Parmenter interested himself, and
with an amount of bustle unwonted even in him.

About the traps he satisfied himself from boys of the
School; as to the turkey he made, in passing, personal
inquiry at the scene of the marauding; complimented,
with dignity, the cook and Christina, in turn, on their
carefulness and skill, — receiving, in his face, a smiling

expression of satisfaction at being appreciated, and in
his back, when he turned it (alas! cooks are not choice
in their English) the comment that “there were some
would be always sticking their noses where they
thought there was a hole: couldn't he leave the Rector
of the School to look after his own kitchen?”

He had convinced both Mr. Don and the Rev. Mr.
Merritt that they ought to go (as they accordingly did)
to ascertain whether discipline had been wisely administered
in the case of Tarleton and his two unwilling
antagonists.

Lastly, he came himself on a friendly visit to Rector
Warren's study; and, after a preliminary compliment,
as he looked round with a sort of salutatory wave of his
hand and hat to the books and other ornaments of the
room, that “he always felt awed, in such an atmosphere
of learning and taste,” went on to speak of the various
happenings and doings in such a way as to show his
familiarity with School-topics, and his never-flagging
interest in them.

“The Trustees felt,” he said, “that the School was
in able hands. He regretted that a secret organization
seemed to baffle the authorities, — that sort of thing had
been too much for former Rectors.”

Then he smilingly changed the subject to Brade's
treatment of Tarleton. He “supposed that some
people would recognize Brade's conduct as high blood
showing itself, — a flashing-out of the diamond. He
didn't attach much importance to those things; but
there was no knowing how strong blood wa,s that might
be said to have filtered for centuries through pretty
choice clay. And then, he supposed, it wouldn't do”
(this he said by way of parenthesis, and with very evident

embarrassment) “for people who had some pretensions
that way themselves to be hasty in saying that
old blood was not a very powerful instrument. He
himself, perhaps, was drawn by his descent to French
manners and tastes.”

To this, of course, the Rector of the School, being a
well-bred and sensible man, assented, and said that “it
was very possible.” This gentleman, as we have already
seen, was not enthusiastic on the subject of Brade's
mysterious birth.

Mr. Parmenter enlarged a little: —

“He was glad to find that Brade's abilities kept pace
with his future station, — in this or any other country”
— (a difficult figure, but boldly managed), “and that
he was going to turn out an honor to his position.
Mightn't it be well,” he asked, “to put a boy like that,
— like Gaston and Brade, for example, — forward, without
spoiling them? There were not many public occasions,
to be sure; but a classical speech assigned to two
such boys as Gaston and Brade, for instance, on some
public occasion, might be a good thing; for their
scholarship was creditable to the School.

There was a tone of recommendation through all
this, that, very likely, did not make it more pleasant to
the Head of St. Bartholomew's School.

He answered simply, “Yes; very likely.”

Mr. Parmenter, with much definiteness of purpose,
went on: —

“There was one thing which, he thought, it might be
well to mention. Not many things, generally, escaped
him; but he had observed Brade particularly, at Church,
for the last Sunday or two, because (he believed) Brade
was a candidate for confirmation. Now, of course, his

behavior was always like a young gentleman; but Mr.
Parmenter had observed one practice, which, perhaps,
might be corrected at once. All through the prayers,
Brade appeared to have his eyes shut, while his lips
were moving. Now Mr. Parmenter did not know what
might be the custom in foreign churches; but it would
not do to make exceptions or allowances here. St.
Bartholomew's was a Church School, and it must be
understood that whoever came to it must conform.
The rule of the Church was to follow the book with
the eyes open, was it not? Mr. Parmenter thought
it might be well to speak to Brade privately. There
were other things, about the deportment of different
boys at their prayers, which he would reserve for another
time. He thought Brade's case important as a
candidate for confirmation, and brought up, perhaps, in
another way.”

The Rector of the School, as we should expect, having
seen him through former visits of this sort, had sat
impatiently under the latter part of this speech, and had
risen from his seat before it was finished.

He answered a little unceremoniously: “He thought
very well of encouraging Gaston's and Brade's scholarship;
but the other suggestion he could not accept.
He must take leave to be guided, in such matters, by
his own discretion. There was no question about
indulging foreign habits. The boy, he believed, had
never been inside of any place of worship in his life
but one sort; and he was going to be confirmed just as
he had been brought up. But the boy was singularly
truthful and earnest, as sensitive boys were apt to be;
and in spiritual things must be treated with great reserve
and delicacy.”

Mr. Warren spoke hastily; but his visitor, with only
a slight change of countenance, accepted the difference
of opinion. It had not been without moral benefit,
probably, that he had had the practice, for many years,
of managing his temper and manners, in dealing with
customers from behind a counter. His control of himself,
now, was just about of the same sort that we have
seen him apply to his horse, and with the same apparent
consciousness that what he was doing was the right
thing, and done just rightly.

“He was sorry that their views did not entirely
coincide,” he said; but then, by a sort of transition
that seemed habitual with him, changed the subject,
and congratulated the Rector of the School on “having
so good a set in his kitchen.” He finished, in his usual
handsome way, by saying that “he had observed a
vacant place for a statuette” (the word seemed familiar
to him): “might he be allowed to present a mate to
the figure of a martyr, in the corresponding place?”

Mr. Warren thanked him, but declined: “the place
was already provided for.”

The visitor departed ceremoniously, and in the hall
was probably unconsciously rehearsing the interview;
for, with hat in hand, he was in the midst of an elaborate
bow to the emptiness before him, when the cheery
salutation of Mr. Manson, from below, interrupted.

Mr. Parmenter recovered himself; and, having ascertained
that his pastor “had a few moments' leisure,” led
the way to the outside of the house, and there addressed
himself to the Rector of the Parish. To him he represented
the propriety of exact conformity by the boys of
their School, when in Church; and testified, from his
own observation, to sundry discrepancies.

“How do you manage,” asked the parson and editor,
“to keep such a strong eye to earth when you're praying?
I couldn't for the life of me. I think the boys
behave very well; and it isn't a good thing to meddle
too much.”

“It's as well to have things right, I suppose?” said
Mr. Parmenter.

“Oh, yes! but meddling too much is what I'm talking
about. Here's one of the leading places in this
country: its Dutch neighbors, in Colony times, for
always trying to domineer, called it Boss[1] -town, and
the name's stuck to it ever since, — just as the thing
has too, for that matter.”

“I don't quite see the connection,” said Mr. Parmenter:
“you can hardly call doing your duty `meddling,'
I think.”

“I'll tell you where to begin, though,” said the parson.
“Begin at the older people. There are some of
your Trustees that kneel in a very trusteeical way when
they're here, — with nothing but their heads. There's
a missionary field for you to expatiate in. You'd better
go at them. It'll do 'em good.”

Mr. Parmenter was grave and in earnest:

“The cases are not quite parallel, I think, sir,” he
said. “The boys are under our control, to be brought
up as they ought to be. We can hardly apply the
same rule to grown-up people, who are their own
masters.”

Here Mr. Parmenter, by an easy diversion, changed
the subject a little, changing his mind also.

“You're aware that there's to be a meeting of the
Trustees on Thursday, sir?” he asked; and having
given this turn to things, and received Mr. Manson's
answer, he courteously left him to pursue his visit to
the Head of the School.

As the visit does not directly concern our story, we
leave the account of it untold.