Jungle and Stream: or, The Adventures of Two Boys in Siam

"But I'm speaking plainly enough, Hal. Come, confess, my lad; you want to be a man, and to be treated as if you were one?"

Harry hesitated.

"Speak out frankly, sir," said Mr. Kenyon sternly.

"Well, of course I do," said the lad.

"And you can't see that if we treated you as you wish to be treated," said the doctor earnestly, "that we should be weak, foolish, and indulgent, for we should be doing you harm?"

"Oh, Mr. Cameron, what nonsense!"

"Think of this some day in the future, Hal, my lad," said the doctor warmly, "and you will find then that it is not nonsense. Look here, my lad, a boy of seventeen, however advanced and able he may be in some things, is only a boy."

"Only a boy!" said Harry bitterly.

"Yes, only a boy; a young, green sapling who must pass through years before he can grow naturally into a strong, muscular man. Some boys fret over this and the restraints they undergo, because of their youth, and want to be men at once – want to throw away four or five of the golden years of their existence, and all through ignorance, because they are too blind to see how beautiful they are."

"You told me all that once before, Mr. Cameron."

"Very likely, Hal, for I am rather disposed to moralize sometimes. But it's quite true, my lad."

"Yes." said Mr. Kenyon, "it's true enough, Hal, for boys are wonderfully boyish. Naturally, too, my lad," he added, with a laugh. "But there, don't build any hopes upon this expedition, for I should certainly shrink from letting you go."

"Oh, father, I would be so careful, and I'll believe all Doctor Cameron said and won't want to be a man till I am quite grown up. I'll be as boyish as I can be."

"I think I'd shrink from any promises of that kind, Hal," said the doctor, smiling. "Don't tie yourself down to rules of your own invention. Look here, aim at being natural, at hitting the happy medium."

"I suppose that's the unhappy medium for the boy, isn't it?"

"Not at all, my lad; it's the way to be happy. Leave it to Nature; she will set that right. Don't be too boyish, and don't aim at being an imitation man – in other words a prig. Be natural."

"Yes," said Mr. Kenyon; "the doctor's right, Hal. Be natural, and you will not be far wrong there."

"I always am as natural as I can be," said Harry, throwing himself into action, and looking as gloomy and discontented as a boy could look; "but no one gets to be so disappointed and sat upon as I am."

Mr. Kenyon's brow clouded over, but he said nothing.

"So sure as I set my mind upon anything I'm sure to be balked."

"Poor fellow!" said the doctor gravely.

"Yes, Doctor, it's all very well for you to make fun of me. You can do just as you like."

"Of course," said the doctor gravely, "and I see that does make a difference. One sees things from such a different point of view."

"Yes, that you do," said Harry.

"Exactly," continued the doctor slowly, "and you see, as you say, I do exactly as I like, have everything I wish for, never suffer the slightest trouble, enjoy the most robust health, am as rich as a man need wish to be; in fact, I am the happiest man under the sun."

"Are you, Doctor?" said Harry. "I'm glad of it. I didn't know it was so good as that."

"And, of course, that is about how you'd like to be, eh, Hal?"

"Well," said the boy, hesitating, "something like that – I – er – I – I don't want to be greedy."

"Don't want to be greedy?" cried the doctor, changing his manner, as he sprang up and began to pace the museum. "Why, you miserable, discontented young cub! There is not one boy in a thousand leads such a life as you do: a good home, surrounded by friends, with plenty of time for study, and plenty of time for the necessary amusement. Yours, sir, is an ideal life; but it has spoilt you, and I'm afraid it is from having a too indulgent father."

"Oh, come, Cameron, I must speak in my own defence," said Mr. Kenyon.

"And you ought to speak in mine too, father," cried Harry indignantly, as he gazed at the doctor with blazing eyes and flaming cheeks.

"I can't, Hal," said his father, smiling; "there's so much truth in what he says, my boy, and your words were uncalled for – unjust."

"I beg your pardon, Kenyon," said the doctor; "I had no business to speak as I did. I had no right. But I'm such a hot-headed Scotsman, and Master Hal here put me out."

"There is no begging pardon needed," said Mr. Kenyon quietly.

"You see, I could not help comparing Hal's lot with mine – a poor, raw lad on the west coast who lived on potatoes and porridge, with a broiled herring or haddie once in a way for a treat. But there, once more, I had no right to interfere."

"I say, granted, and thanks."

"Then I shan't beg your pardon, Hal, boy," cried the doctor, "for I honestly believe what I say is the truth. Take it all as so many pills, and if you'll come along the river to my place to-morrow morning I'll give you a draught as well – to do you good, my dear boy – to do you good."

"I think I've had physic enough," said Harry sulkily.

"And you don't seem to like the taste, eh?" said the doctor, laughing. "Never mind; it will, as people say, do you good. You will be sure to have some bit of luck to take the taste out of your mouth – a bit of sugary pleasure, my lad. Aha! and here it comes in the shape of friend, Phra, the prince, who, king's son as he is, does not enjoy a single advantage more than you."

"Doctor!" cried Harry indignantly. "He has only to speak to have everything he wants. No one could be better off than he is. Look, he's in a hurry to tell us all about the expedition for to-morrow. Oh, it is so disappointing, for I wanted so badly to shoot a tiger. It set me longing when Phra and I looked at those skins to-day."

"Dear me! what a thirst for blood you are developing, Hal!" said the doctor, as Mr. Kenyon still sat back in his chair, looking pained, while his son carefully avoided gazing in his direction. "I should have thought you had killed enough for one day."

"Well, Phra?" cried Harry, as his companion came straight in.

"Well?" said the boy, with a mocking smile.

"What did your father say?"

Phra was silent for a few moments, and then he spoke quietly.

"That I was too much of a boy yet to think of going after tigers," said the lad slowly, and then he started and frowned. For the doctor had thrown himself back in one of the cane chairs, which gave vent to a peculiar squeaking noise, while its occupier rocked himself to and fro, literally roaring with laughter.

"I am very sorry if I have said some ridiculous thing, sir," said Phra gravely. "I speak English as well as I can."

"Ridiculous thing!" cried the doctor, springing up and seizing the young Siamese by the shoulders; "why, it was splendid. Look at him," he cried, half-choking with laughter, "look at Hal! Oh, dear me, how you have made my sides ache!"

"But I don't understand," said Phra.

"Then you soon shall," cried the doctor. "My lord there has been in a tantrum because – because – oh, dear me, I shall be able to speak directly."