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Statistics is provided by a consortium of federal agencies through a
grant from the National Science Foundation (No. SES-1024012). Any
opinions, findings, conclusions, or recommendations expressed in
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International Standard Book Number-10: 0-309-38818-X
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Suggested citation: National Academies of Sciences, Engineering,

and Medicine. (2016). Measuring Serious Emotional Disturbance in
Children: Workshop Summary. K. Marton, Rapporteur. Committee on
National Statistics and Board on Behavioral, Cognitive, and Sensory
Sciences, Division of Behavioral and Social Sciences and Education.
Board on Health Sciences Policy, Institute of Medicine. Washington,
DC: The National Academies Press.
The National Academy of Sciences was established in 1863 by
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and Medicine at www.national-academies.org.
 STEERING COMMITTEE FOR THE WORKSHOP ON
INTEGRATING NEW MEASURES OF SERIOUS EMOTIONAL
DISTURBANCE IN CHILDREN INTO THE SUBSTANCE ABUSE
AND MENTAL HEALTH ADMINISTRATION’S DATA
COLLECTION PROGRAMS

KATHLEEN RIES MERIKANGAS (Chair), National Institute of Mental

Health, U.S. Department of Health and Human Services
GLORISA CANINO, School of Medicine, University of Puerto Rico
MICHAEL DAVERN, NORC at the University of Chicago
GRAHAM KALTON, Westat, Rockville, MD

KRISZTINA MARTON, Study Director

JEANNE RIVARD, Senior Program Officer
MICHAEL SIRI, Program Associate
 COMMITTEE ON NATIONAL STATISTICS

LAWRENCE D. BROWN (Chair), Department of Statistics, Wharton

School, University of Pennsylvania
JOHN M. ABOWD, School of Industrial and Labor Relations, Cornell
University
MARY ELLEN BOCK, Department of Statistics, Purdue University
DAVID CARD, Department of Economics, University of California,
Berkeley
MICHAEL E. CHERNEW, Department of Health Care Policy, Harvard
Medical School
DON A. DILLMAN, Department of Sociology, University of
Washington
CONSTANTINE GATSONIS, Center for Statistical Sciences, Brown
University
JAMES S. HOUSE, Survey Research Center, Institute for Social
Research, University of Michigan
MICHAEL HOUT, Department of Sociology, New York University
SALLIE KELLER, Virginia Bioinformatics Institute at Virginia Tech,
Arlington, VA
LISA LYNCH, Office of the Provost, Brandeis University
THOMAS MESENBOURG, U.S. Census Bureau (retired)
SARAH NUSSER, Department of Statistics, Iowa State University
COLM O’MUIRCHEARTAIGH, Harris School of Public Policy Studies,
University of Chicago
RUTH PETERSON, Criminal Justice Research Center, Ohio State
University
EDWARD H. SHORTLIFFE, Departments of Biomedical Informatics,
Columbia University and Arizona State University

CONSTANCE F. CITRO, Director

BRIAN HARRIS-KOJETIN, Deputy Director
 BOARD ON BEHAVIORAL, COGNITIVE, AND SENSORY
SCIENCE

SUSAN T. FISKE (Chair), Department of Psychology and Woodrow

Wilson School of Public and International Affairs, Princeton
University
LAURA L. CARSTENSEN, Department of Psychology, Stanford
University
JENNIFER S. COLE, Department of Linguistics, University of Illinois
at Urbana-Champaign
JUDY R. DUBNO, Department of Otolaryngology-Head and Neck
Surgery, Medical University of South Carolina
ROBERT L. GOLDSTONE, Department of Psychological and Brain
Sciences, Indiana University
DANIEL R. ILGEN, Department of Psychology, Michigan State
University
NINA G. JABLONSKI, Department of Anthropology, Pennsylvania
State University
JAMES S. JACKSON, Institute for Social Research, University of
Michigan
NANCY G. KANWISHER, Department of Brain and Cognitive
Sciences, Massachusetts Institute of Technology
JANICE KIECOLT-GLASER, Department of Psychology, Ohio State
University College of Medicine
WILLIAM C. MAURER, School of Social Sciences, University of
California, Irvine
JOHN MONAHAN, School of Law, University of Virginia
STEVEN E. PETERSEN, Department of Neurology and Neurological
Surgery, Washington University School of Medicine, St. Louis
DANA M. SMALL, Department of Psychiatry, Yale University School of
Medicine
TIMOTHY J. STRAUMAN, Department of Psychology and
Neuroscience, Duke University
ALLAN R. WAGNER, Department of Psychology, Yale University
JEREMY M. WOLFE, Brigham and Women’s Hospital and
Departments of Ophthalmology and Radiology, Harvard Medical
School

BARBARA A. WANCHISEN, Director

 BOARD ON HEALTH SCIENCES POLICY

JEFFREY KAHN (Chair), Department of Health Policy & Management

and Berman Institute of Bioethics, Johns Hopkins University
ELI Y. ADASHI, Warren Alpert Medical School, Brown University
WYLIE BURKE, Department of Bioethics and Humanities, University
of Washington
R.A. CHARO, Law School and the Department of Medical History and
Bioethics, University of Wisconsin–Madison
LINDA H. CLEVER, California Pacific Medical Center, San Francisco
BARRY S. COLLER, Allen and Frances Adler Laboratory of Blood and
Vascular Biology, Rockefeller University
LEWIS R. GOLDFRANK, Ronald O. Perelman Department of
Emergency Medicine, New York University Langone Medical Center
BERNARD A. HARRIS, JR., Vesalius Ventures, Houston, TX
MARTHA N. HILL, Department of Community-Public Health, Johns
Hopkins University School of Nursing
STEVEN E. HYMAN, Stanley Center for Psychiatric Research, Broad
Institute, Cambridge, MA
ALAN M. JETTE, Department of Health Law, Policy & Management,
Boston University School of Public Health
PATRICIA A. KING, Georgetown University Law Center
STORY C. LANDIS, National Institute of Neurological Disorders and
Stroke, U.S. Department of Health and Human Services
HARRY T. ORR, Department of Laboratory Medicine and Pathology,
University of Minnesota, Minneapolis
UMAIR A. SHAH, Harris County Public Health and Environmental
Services, Houston, TX
ROBYN STONE, LeadingAge, Washington, DC
SHARON TERRY, Genetic Alliance, Washington, DC
REED V. TUCKSON, Tuckson Health Connections, LLC, Sandy
Springs, GA

ANDREW M. POPE, Director

 Acknowledgment of Reviewers

This workshop summary has been reviewed in draft form by

individuals chosen for their diverse perspectives and technical
expertise, in accordance with procedures approved by the Report
Review Committee of the National Academies of Sciences,
Engineering, and Medicine. The purpose of this independent review
is to provide candid and critical comments that will assist the
institution in making its published report as sound as possible and to
ensure that the report meets institutional standards for objectivity,
evidence, and responsiveness to the charge. The review comments
and draft manuscript remain confidential to protect the integrity of
the process.
We thank the following individuals for their review of this report:
William Copeland, Center for Developmental Epidemiology,
Department of Psychiatry and Behavioral Sciences, Duke University
School of Medicine; Susanna Visser, Division of Human Development
and Disability, National Center on Birth Defects and Developmental
Disabilities, Centers for Disease Control and Prevention; Jerry West,
Mathematica Policy Research, Washington, DC; and Alan M.
Zaslavsky, Department of Health Care Policy, Harvard Medical School.
Although the reviewers listed above provided many constructive
comments and suggestions, they were not asked to endorse the
content of the report nor did they see the final draft of the report
before its release. The review of this report was overseen by Brian
Baird, president, 4Pir2 Communication, Edmonds, Washington.
Appointed by the National Academies of Sciences, Engineering, and
Medicine, he was responsible for making certain that an independent
examination of this report was carried out in accordance with
institutional procedures and that all review comments were carefully
considered. Responsibility for the final content of this report rests
entirely with the rapporteur and the institution.
 Contents

1 INTRODUCTION
Background
Workshop Focus
Workshop Charge
Organization of the Report

2 EXISTING MEASURES AND DATA

National Data on the Prevalence of Mental Disorders
The Role of Measuring Functional Impairment
Ongoing Federal Child Mental Health Surveillance Systems
Impairment Data from the Medical Expenditure Panel Survey

3 MEASUREMENT CHALLENGES FOR POPULATION SURVEYS

Lessons from Canada
Lessons from Australia
Advantages and Disadvantages of the Strengths and Difficulties
Questionnaire

4 DESIGN AND ESTIMATION OPTIONS

Lessons from the National Survey of Children’s Health
Considerations in Multiphase Studies
Model-Based Estimates of Prevalence in a National Survey
Small-Area Estimation of Prevalence
5 KEY THEMES AND POSSIBLE NEXT STEPS

APPENDIXES
A Workshop Agenda
B Biographical Sketches of Steering Committee Members and
Speakers
 1

Introduction

BACKGROUND

This report summarizes the presentations and discussions at the

Workshop on Integrating New Measures of Serious Emotional
Disturbance in Children into the Substance Abuse and Mental Health
Services Administration’s (SAMHSA) Data Collection Programs, held
in Washington, D.C., in June 2015. The workshop was organized as
part of a study sponsored by SAMHSA and the Office of the Assistant
Secretary for Planning and Evaluation (ASPE) of the U.S. Department
of Health and Human Services (DHHS) to assist SAMHSA in its
responsibilities to expand the collection of behavioral health data in
several areas. The workshop was structured to bring together
experts in the measurement of serious emotional disturbance in
children and in health survey methods to facilitate discussion of
measures and mechanisms most promising for expanding SAMHSA’s
data collections in this area.
The overall effort is being overseen by the Standing Committee
on Integrating New Behavioral Health Measures into the Substance
Abuse and Mental Health Services Administration’s Data Collection
Programs.1 In addition to new measures of serious emotional
disturbance in children, SAMHSA and ASPE are interested in
expanding data collection on specific mental illness diagnoses with
functional impairment, on trauma, and on recovery from substance
use or mental disorder. Workshops on all four topics are being
planned as part of the overall effort.

WORKSHOP FOCUS

In his introductory remarks about SAMHSA’s goals for the

workshop, Neil Russell (SAMHSA) explained that the agency has a
legislative mandate to provide national and state-level estimates of
serious emotional disturbance in children. The primary motivation for
collecting the data is the block grant for community mental health
services, which was established by the Alcohol, Drug Abuse, and
Mental Health Administration Reorganization Act of 1992. The block
grant is administered by SAMHSA and provides funds to support
state-level services for children with serious emotional disturbance
and for adults with serious mental illness.
Russell said that for the purposes of SAMHSA’s work, the
definition of child serious emotional disturbance is the definition
published in a 1993 Federal Register notice (58 FR 29425, May 20),
which included the following elements:

children from birth up to age 18

who currently or any time during the past year
have had a diagnosable mental, behavioral, or emotional
disorder of sufficient duration to meet diagnostic criteria
specified within DSM-III-R2
which has resulted in functional impairment which
substantially interferes with or limits the child’s role or
functioning in family, school, or community activities.

Two important aspects of the definition are mental disorders and

impairment. The intent of the definition is to ensure the availability
of targeted grant fund allocations for those children with the most
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 “Be a good fellow, Wolf, and don’t say a word.”
“I will not if I can help it. I don’t think anybody will know
anything about this scrape. Those who saw the dummy come out
will suppose I was on her. But here’s a pretty kettle of fish!” I added,
glancing at the dummy, and then at the road minus the rails.
“Can we put the thing on the track again?”
“I think we can—we can try it, at least. We want some of those
rails for levers.”
“Where are they?” asked the puzzled Faxon. “Did some one steal
them for old iron?”
“No; they are not far off,” I replied, leading the way down to the
Lake Shore.
We walked along the beach, till I discovered footsteps in the
sand.
“Here is where they landed,” I added, pointing to the prints, and
also to some deep lines gored in the sand by a couple of boats,
which had been hauled up on the beach.
“Who landed? I don’t understand it.”
“I do; an enemy has done this. The Wimpletonians have been
over here during the night and torn up your track.”
“If they did, it will be a sorry day for them,” said Faxon, grating
his teeth and shaking his head.
“These footprints were made by dandy boots, and all the party
were boys. It’s as plain as the nose on Colonel Wimpleton’s face;”
and the great man of Centreport was troubled with a long proboscis.
“They’ll catch it for this.”
We walked along till we came to Grass Brook, and there we
found the rails thrown into the deep water at the mouth of it. The
end of one of them lay within my reach, and I pulled it out. Using
this as a lever, we pried up the wheels of the dummy, and, after an
hour of severe exertion, we succeeded in putting the car upon the
track.
 CHAPTER XXIV.
THE GRAND PICNIC.

I t is not necessary for me to quote any of the big words which

Major Toppleton used when I told him the Wimpletonians had
been over and torn up a quarter of a mile of the track of the Lake
Shore Railroad. I did not deem it best, as he asked no questions, to
augment his wrath by telling him the dummy had been off the track.
He was more impatient, if possible, to have the road completed than
the boys were. He procured the services of a score of mechanics and
laborers, and we hastened with them to the dismantled portion of
the road. The rails were fished up from the deep water, and before
twelve o’clock the track was in as good order as ever.
If the students of the Wimpleton Institute looked over the lake,
and enjoyed the mischief they had done,—as of course they did,—
their satisfaction was of short duration. Before they were turned out
to play in the afternoon, the dummy was running her regular trips to
Spangleport. I have no doubt the rascals who did the mischief felt
cheap and crestfallen when they saw the car going on its way as
though nothing had happened; and I had no more doubt that they
would consider their work ill done, and attempt to do it over again.
They were not allowed to go out nights; but I am afraid the
authorities of the Institute did not punish them very severely when
they broke through the rules in order to do mischief to the
establishment on the other side. It was only following the example
of the magnate of Centreport and many of their elders; and “like
master, like man.”
 When the torn-up track was relaid, the twenty men were
conveyed beyond Spangleport to build the road. Frogs and switches
had been procured, the turning apparatus was finished, and I had
the pleasure of running both ways in ship-shape style. By laying a
few rods of track, and putting down a couple of switches near the
engine-house, we were enabled to turn at the Middleport end. We
always switched off to run into the engine-house, and we had to
back in, from a point above the house. On the new track we ran out
to a point below, and came upon the main line headed towards
Spangleport. I take the more pride in describing these movements,
because they were of my own invention, though I have since learned
that similar plans had been used before.
Towards night on the second day of my railroad experience,
Major Toppleton was a passenger in the engine-room. He was in
high spirits to think the mischief done by the Wimpletonians had
been so speedily repaired; but he was afraid the daring act would be
repeated, as I was quite satisfied it would. I knew my late comrades
on the Centreport side well enough to understand that they would
never let the Lake Shore Railroad enjoy peace and prosperity until
they were provided with an equivalent. I was confident that Colonel
Wimpleton was racking his brains even then for a scheme which
would produce an equal excitement among the students of his
Institute.
“You know those villains over there better than I do, Wolf,” said
the major confidentially to me; and I was amazed to hear him own
that I knew anything better than he did. “Don’t you think they will
attempt to tear up the track again?”
“Yes, sir, I do think so,” I replied.
“The rascals! It mortifies me to have them get ahead of me in
this manner. If I could only catch them, I would cure them of night
wandering very quick. It is of no use for me to complain to the
colonel, or to the principal of the Wimpleton Institute. They would
enjoy my chagrin.”
“It is easy enough to prevent them from doing any more
mischief,” I added.
“How?” he asked, eagerly.
 “By setting a watch.”
“Yes; and while we are watching in one place they will tear up
the rails in another.”
“There are two ways to do it. Your tow-boat can ply up and down
the shore, or we can run the dummy all night.”
“Do you think you can stand it to run the dummy all night, Wolf?”
laughed he.
“My father and I could for a few nights.”
The tow-boat had gone up the lake with a fleet of canal boats,
and the other plan was the only alternative. I saw my father at six
o’clock. He was ready to serve on the watch, but he was not willing
to leave my mother alone with my sisters at home all night, fearful
that some of the chivalrous Wimpletonians might undertake to
annoy her. But Faxon volunteered to serve with me, and was pleased
with the idea. We lighted up the reflecting lamp over the door of the
engine, and, though it was dark, we put her “through by daylight,” in
a figurative sense.
We talked till we were sleepy, and then by turns each of us took
a nap, lying upon the cushions of the passenger compartment. It
was a good bed, and we enjoyed the novelty of the situation. Faxon
by this time understood the machinery very well, and I was not
afraid to trust him. We did not run on regular hours, and lay still
more than half the time, after Faxon had run the car as much as he
desired. We kept an eye on the lake for boats, of which the
Wimpletonians had a whole squadron.
Only once during the night was there anything like an alarm. We
saw half a dozen boats come down through the Narrows about
eleven o’clock, but we soon lost sight of them under the shadow of
the opposite shore. We saw nothing more of them, and I concluded
that the dummy, with her bright light on the shore, had prevented
another attack upon the railroad. After this all was quiet, and there
was nothing to get up an excitement upon.
The next day I was rather sleepy at times, and so was Faxon. At
eight o’clock the major appeared, and I told him we had probably
prevented another raid upon the road, for we had seen a fleet of
boats pass through the Narrows.
 “All right, Wolf; I am glad we balked the scoundrels,” answered
the major; and almost anything seemed to be a victory to the great
man of Middleport.
“I suppose they will try again some other time,” I added.
“We will see that they don’t succeed. Now we must push along
the road as fast as we can. I don’t like to disappoint the boys, but I
can’t wait for them to build the rest of it.”
I could not help smiling.
“What is it, Wolf?” he asked, smiling with me; and great men’s
smiles are sunshine to the heart.
“I don’t think they will cry if you don’t let them do any more.”
“Don’t you? Why, they begged me to let them do the work with
their own hands, and I have gratified them thus far.”
I soon convinced him that the boys were not anxious to do any
more digging, or to lay any more rails; that hard work was “played
out” with them. The magnate was delighted to hear it; and there
was no grumbling because the students were not called upon to use
the shovels and the hammers. I ran the dummy out with the men,
after that, every morning at seven o’clock, and the road progressed
rapidly towards Grass Springs.
At noon we heard astounding news from Centreport. All the
boats belonging to the Wimpleton Institute—not less than a dozen of
them—had mysteriously disappeared. No one knew what had
happened to them, and no one had heard anything in the night to
indicate what had become of them. Major Toppleton inquired very
particularly about the fleet of boats Faxon and I had seen; but our
information did not elucidate the mystery. I observed that my fellow-
engineer winked at me very significantly, as though he knew more
than he chose to tell.
“What did you wink for, Faxon?” I asked, when we started on our
trip, and were alone.
“You are blind as the major,” laughed he.
“What do you mean?”
“About forty of the Toppletonians found a way to get out of the
Institute last night. You won’t say a word about this—will you?”
“You had better not tell me, Faxon.”
 “But I will tell you, for I don’t think the major or the principal will
say anything if the whole thing is blown. You know where the
quarries are, above Centreport, on that side.”
“Of course I do.”
“The Wimpleton boats, loaded with rocks, and the plugs taken
out, lie at the bottom of the lake, in twenty feet of water, off the
quarries. We are even with those fellows now for tearing up our
track.”
“That’s too bad!” I exclaimed.
“Too bad! It wasn’t too bad to tear up our track—was it?” replied
he, indignantly.
“Two wrongs don’t make a right,” I replied, sagely.
“But one evil sometimes corrects another—‘similia similibus
curantur,’ as our little-pill doctor used to say. The loss of their boats
will prevent the Wimps from coming over here again in the night to
cut up our road.”
I was a boy, like the rest of them; but I did not exactly enjoy this
“tit for tat” business. My mother had always taught me to exercise a
Christian spirit, and this “paying back” was a diabolical spirit. I would
not tell of these things, nor suffer my readers to gloat over them, if
any are disposed to do so—were it not to show how these two great
men, and all the little men who hung upon the skirts of their coats,
were finally reconciled to each other; and how, out of war and
vengeance, came “peace and good will to men.”
Before Miss Grace Toppleton’s birthday arrived the road was
finished to Sandy Beach, and the grand picnic took place. The two
platform cars had seats built upon them, and were attached to the
dummy. I conveyed about a hundred a trip until the middle of the
day, when all Middleport appeared to have been transported to the
grove. The affair was very elaborate in all its details. Tents, pavilions,
booths, and swings had been erected, and the Ucayga Cornet Band
was on the ground.
When I came in on the twelve o’clock trip, my father presented
himself at the door of the engine-room, his face wreathed in smiles.
My mother and sisters were present, for we were now regarded as
Middleporters.
 “I will take care of this thing for a short time, Wolf, and you may
go and see the fun,” said my father.
“I don’t care about going now.”
“Oh, you must go; the people want to see you.”
Thus urged I entered the grove, and found myself before a
speaker’s stand, on which Major Toppleton was holding forth to the
people.
“Come here, Wolf!” called he. “I want to see you.”
A couple of the students seized me by the arms, and, dragging
me forward, actually forced me up the steps upon the speaker’s
stand. I blushed, was bewildered and confused.
“Three cheers for Wolf!” shouted Faxon; and they were given.
“Come forward, Wolf. The people want to see you,” added the
major, dragging me to the front of the stage.
I blushed, and tried to escape; and then the great man jumped
down, and left me alone on the platform. I took off my cap, and
bowed.
“Mr. Wolf.”
I turned. Miss Grace Toppleton was on the stage with me. I
looked at her with wonder.
“Mr. Wolf,” she continued, “the students of the Toppleton
Institute, grateful to you for your labors on the Lake Shore Railroad,
wish to present you this gold watch; and I assure you it affords me
very great pleasure to be the bearer of this token to you.”
She handed me the watch, and I took it, with a red face and a
trembling hand.
THE GIFT OF THE TOPPLETONIANS.—Page 274.
 CHAPTER XXV.
WOLF’S SPEECH.

I was never so “taken aback” in my life as when I heard the silvery

voice of Miss Grace Toppleton, and saw the magnificent gift in
her hand. At any time I should have looked at her with interest; but
just then it seemed to me that the sun had ceased to shine, and all
the light which flowed down upon the brilliant scene around me
came from her beautiful face. I wished there was a hole in the
platform beneath me, through which I might sink out of sight; but
then, I am sure, if I had gone down into the gloom of the space
beneath me, I should instantly have wished myself back again; for I
was the hero of the occasion, and the soft eyes of Miss Grace were
fixed upon me.
As I listened to the silvery tones of the fair orator, I became
conscious that I was presenting a very awkward appearance. My
hands seemed to be as big as the feet of an elephant, and
altogether too large to go into my pockets. I did not know what to
do with them, or where to put them. I felt like a great clumsy booby.
But when the thought flashed upon me that Miss Grace was looking
at me, and that she must consider me a boorish cub, I felt the
necessity of doing something to redeem myself. When I was fully
conscious that she was observing me, I quite forgot that anybody
else was engaged in a similar occupation. I straightened up,
stiffened the quaking muscles in my frame, and permitted my
cumbrous hands to fall at my side, just as the professor of elocution
in the Wimpleton Institute had instructed me to do when I spoke “in
public on the stage.”
 If the change of attitude produced no effect upon others, it did in
me, for I knew then that I looked like a civilized boy, and bore
myself with the dignity becoming the young engineer of the Lake
Shore Railroad. Miss Grace handed me the watch, and I took it with
my best bow. She finished her “neat little speech,” and, as her
silvery tones ceased, I was painfully conscious that something was
expected of me. It was a hard case. Clinging to the cow-catcher of a
locomotive going at thirty miles an hour was nothing to it. Again I
longed for a hole in the platform through which I might disappear
from the public gaze. But there was no hole in the platform, and no
chance to escape. The audience were heartily applauding the
presentation speech of Miss Grace; and I think the major was
prouder of her then than he had ever before been in his life.
While this demonstration was in progress, I tried to gather up my
thoughts for the mighty effort I was to make. A labored apology,
with something about being in a “tight place,” flashed upon my mind
as a suitable preface to my speech; but I almost as quickly decided
not to make any apology; for, since no one could suspect me of
being a speech-maker, I was not likely to fall below their
expectations as an orator. Before I had concluded what I should say,
or try to say, the applause ceased for an instant, and then the
Toppletonians began to shout, “Speech! Speech!”
If I could run an engine, there was no good reason why I should
not make a speech. I had something to say, and all I had to do was
to say it. Really it seemed to be the simplest thing in the world, and
I determined to “go in,” however I might come out of it. In a word, I
was resolved to put it “through by daylight.”
“Miss Grace Toppleton,” I began, and the uttering of the whole
name seemed to afford me a grateful respite of some fraction of a
second in which to gather up the next idea. “I am very much obliged
to the students of the Toppleton Institute for this beautiful gift. A
gold watch is something I never expected to have. I didn’t think of
anything of this kind when I came in here, and for that reason I was
very much surprised. I shall always keep this watch, and, whenever
I look at its face, it will remind me of the generous fellows who gave
it to me. I shall”—
 I was interrupted by a burst of rapturous applause from the
students; and while I was waiting for it to subside, I was satisfied
that I was doing very well.
“I shall endeavor, with the help of this watch, always to be on
time; and I hope I shall be able to do my duty to the officers and to
the liberal patron of the Lake Shore Railroad. Miss Toppleton, I am
very grateful to all the good fellows who have given me this splendid
watch; and though I don’t believe in wearing two faces, I shall never
look at the face of this watch without thinking of another face—the
face of the one who so prettily presented it.”
“Good! Good!” shouted the students; and another round of
applause encouraged me in my arduous task.
“I shall always prize this watch,” I continued, glancing at the
beautiful time-keeper, “for the sake of those who gave it to me; and
I am sure I shall give it a double value because of the fair hands
from which it passed into my own. With ten thousand thanks for the
beautiful gift, I shall try to perform my duty better than ever before;
and whatever work is given me to do, I shall put it through by
daylight.”
I made my best bow again, and retired from the stage amid a
storm of applause. As Miss Grace followed me, I helped her down
the steps. The pleasant, arch smile she bestowed upon me made me
feel that I had not said anything which she disliked.
“Mr. Wolf, you are quite a speech-maker,” said she.
“I don’t know; I never did any such thing before,” I replied,
blushing like a little girl.
“You did it real well, Mr. Wolf; and when they don’t want you to
run the engine, you must go to Congress.”
“If I had only known what was going on, I should have got ready
for it, and shouldn’t have felt quite so sheepish.”
“That would have spoiled the whole. You did splendidly. Now let
me fasten the chain to your vest, and see how you look with the
watch on.”
She took the watch from my hand, adjusted the chain in a
button-hole of my vest with her own fair hands, and I could hardly
resist the temptation to do or say something intensely ridiculous; but
I did resist it, and only thanked her as coolly as I could for the
service. Major Toppleton came up and congratulated me on my
speech. I think they did not expect me to be able to say anything,
and perhaps some of the students would have enjoyed the scene
quite as much if I had broken down completely. But I am confident
that all the compliments I received were based upon the very
meagre expectations of my intelligent audience.
The students used me very handsomely, and for the time did not
put on any airs. They treated me as an equal, and even Tommy
Toppleton was as gracious as though I had been the scion of a great
house like his own. Miss Grace walked with me to the refreshment
tables, and while the band, whose leader seemed to be an awful
satirist, wickedly played, “Hail to the Chief,” I partook of chicken
salad, cake, and ice-cream, being actually waited upon by the fair
oratorical divinity who had presented me the watch. I was afraid she
would scold me for saying that I should think of her face whenever I
looked at the face of the watch; but she did not, and I suppose she
regarded the daring expression as a piece of “buncombe” tolerated
by the license of such an occasion.
I spent an hour in the most agreeable manner in the Sandy
Beach Grove; indeed, the whole scene is still a bright spot in my
memory. But I was obliged to return to the dummy, for after all I
was only a poor boy, an employee of the magnate of Toppleton. I
was out of place at the feast and the revel; but I was very grateful
to the students, and to all the people, especially Miss Grace
Toppleton, who had treated me with such “distinguished
consideration.” I resumed my place on the engine, and as there were
a great many people to convey back to Middleport, I made quick
trips, and literally succeeded in putting them all “through by
daylight.”
After I had put up the dummy for the night, I went over to
Centreport with my father, mother, and sisters in the major’s sail-
boat, which he placed at my disposal for the purpose. I had never
seen my parents so happy before. If they were proud of me, I could
afford to forgive them for it. We had almost forgotten that the cloud
of misfortune had ever lowered above us. My father had not tasted a
drop of liquor since the fatal day on which he had lost his money,
and this was enough to make us all happy, without any of the other
pleasant events which had gladdened our hearts. God had been very
merciful to us, and had turned the wrath of man into blessings for
us, and I am sure we were all grateful to him for his goodness.
Nothing definite had been heard from Christy Holgate, but it was
believed that he had gone to the South. A close watch was kept
upon his family in Ucayga; for it was supposed that he would send
for them, and it was hoped that their movements would enable the
officer in charge of the case to ascertain his present residence. My
father despaired of ever hearing from the runaway or the money,
and all agreed that it would be but a poor satisfaction to have the
wretch sent to the state prison for even a short term.
We walked from the mill wharf up to the house after I had
securely moored the sail-boat. We were still talking over the pleasant
events of the day, and for the third time I had showed my watch to
my sisters, who were prouder of it than I was. As we approached
the house, I saw Captain Synders sitting on the fence, and
apparently waiting for the return of my father or myself. I could not
believe that he had any business with me, for Colonel Wimpleton
had paid the honest skipper for the destruction of his boat, and
nothing had been said for a week about arresting me for taking part
in the mischief.
“I’m waiting for you, Mr. Penniman,” said Synders, as we went up
to the gate.
“I hope you haven’t had to wait long,” replied my father, gently.
“Long enough,” added the constable, gruffly.
“What can I do for you?” inquired my father, rather anxiously, I
thought, though his face wore a good-natured smile.
“Nothing for me, but you can do something for Colonel
Wimpleton.”
“What can I do for him?”
“Pay the note of two thousand dollars which was due at noon to-
day,” continued Synders, maliciously.
“Colonel Wimpleton knows very well that my money was stolen
from me, and that I cannot pay him,” replied my father.
 “It’s nothing to him that your money was stolen. You must pay
the note.”
“I can’t do that.”
“Well, we know you didn’t do it, and this afternoon the colonel
foreclosed the mortgage. I’m here to give you notice of it, and to
warn you out of the house.”
“Does he mean to turn me out to-night?” asked my father.
“I shall give you legal notice to quit, before witnesses.”
“I will pay rent for the house,” suggested my father.
“That won’t do,” answered Synders, shaking his head. “The
house must be sold after legal notice has been given; and in my
opinion it won’t bring a dollar over the mortgage, under the
hammer.”
“Well, I can’t help myself,” added my father, gloomily.
“You made a bad mistake when you turned upon the colonel,”
sneered the officer.
“I didn’t turn upon him; but we will not talk about that.”
My father was very much depressed at the thought of losing the
thousand dollars which he had invested in his house. All he had
saved was to be swept away from him. The constable procured his
witnesses, served his legal notices, and went away chuckling over
the misery he left behind him. Doubtless he exaggerated the
confusion and dismay of my father when he reported his doings to
his employer, and the great man gloated proportionally over the
wreck he was making.
 CHAPTER XXVI.
THE AUCTION SALE.

M y father was very unhappy, and my mother was afraid he

would again resort to the cup for solace in his misfortune. I do
not know what she said to him; but he treated her very tenderly,
and never was a woman more devoted than she was during this
threatening misfortune. My father was again a poor man. All that he
had of worldly goods was to be stripped from him to satisfy the
malice of his hard creditor. He was too proud to apply to Major
Toppleton for assistance, believing that he would have nothing to do
with property on the other side of the lake.
I continued to run the dummy, and was so happy as to keep on
the right side of the major, his son, and the students. Before the
expiration of the legal notice, my father hired a small house in
Middleport, and we moved into it. It was only a hovel, compared
with the neat and comfortable dwelling we had occupied in
Centreport, and the change was depressing to all the members of
the family. My father’s place was advertised to be sold, and as the
day—which looked like a fatal one to us—drew near, we were all
very sad and nervous. Nothing had yet been heard of Christy; and
the case was a plain one. The thousand dollars saved from the
earnings of the debtor was to be sacrificed. No man in Centreport,
however much he wanted the house, would dare to bid upon it.
My father desired to attend the sale, perhaps hopeful that his
presence might induce some friend of other days to bid a little more
for the place. My mother did not wish to have him attend the
auction; but as he insisted, she desired that I should go with him. I
had no wish to be present at the humiliating spectacle, or to endure
the sneers and the jeers of the Centreporters; but I decided to go,
for my presence might be some restraint upon my father, if his
misfortunes tempted him to drink again. I applied to Major
Toppleton for leave of absence for my father and myself on the day
of the sale. My father had engaged a man to take his place, and
Faxon could now run the dummy.
“What’s going on over there?” asked the major, after he had
consented to the absence of both of us.
“My father’s place is to be sold at auction. Colonel Wimpleton has
foreclosed the mortgage,” I replied.
“How much has your father paid on the house?”
“He paid a thousand dollars down; and the mortgage is for two
thousand. He would have paid the note when it was due, but his
money was stolen from him.”
“I remember about that,” added the major, musing. “Will the
place bring enough at auction to enable your father to get back the
thousand dollars he paid?”
“No, sir; we don’t expect it will bring anything over the mortgage.
Colonel Wimpleton means to punish my father by ruining him, and
none of the Centreport people will dare to bid on the place.”
He asked me several questions more, and I told him as well as I
could how the matter stood. I was hoping most earnestly that he
would offer to advance the money to pay off the mortgage; but just
as my expectations reached the highest pitch, a gentleman
interrupted the conversation, and the major went off with him in a
few moments, having apparently forgotten all about the subject. My
hopes were dashed down. I conveyed all the students out to Sandy
Beach in the dummy that afternoon, and brought them back; but I
was so absorbed in our family affairs that I hardly knew what I was
doing.
At one o’clock the next day, I went over to Centreport with father
to attend the sale. He was very nervous, and I was hardly less so. At
the appointed time, a large collection of people gathered around the
house. A red flag was flying on the fence, and all the company
seemed as jovial as if they were assembled for a picnic, rather than
to complete the ruin of my poor father. Hardly any one spoke to us;
but I saw many who appeared to be talking about us, and enjoying
the misery we experienced at the prospect of seeing our beloved
home pass into other hands.
Colonel Wimpleton was there, and so was Waddie. Both of them
seemed to be very happy, and both of them stared at us as though
we had no right to set foot on the sacred soil of Centreport. Others
imitated their illustrious example, and we were made as
uncomfortable as possible. In our hearing, and evidently for our
benefit, a couple of men discussed their proposed bids, one
declaring that he would go as high as fifteen dollars, while the other
would not be willing to take the place at so high a figure. Finally, the
colonel, after passing us a dozen times, halted before my father.
“I suppose you have come over to bid on the place, Ralph,” said
he.
“No, sir; I have nothing to back my bid with,” replied my father,
meekly.
“You had better bid; I don’t think it will bring more than fifteen or
twenty dollars over the mortgage,” chuckled the magnate.
“It ought to bring fifteen hundred,” added my father. “I was
offered that for it once.”
“You should have taken it. Real estate is very much depressed in
the market.”
“I should think it was; and I’m afraid Centreport is going down,”
answered my father, with a faint smile.
“Going down!” exclaimed the great man, stung by the reflection.
“Any other piece of property in Centreport would sell a hundred per
cent. higher than this.”
“I suppose so!” ejaculated my poor father, fully understanding
the reason why his place was to be sacrificed.
The auctioneer, who had mounted the steps of the front door,
interrupted the conversation. He stated that he was about to sell all
the right, title, and interest which Ralph Penniman had in the estate
at twelve o’clock on a certain day, described the mortgage, and
called for a bid.
“Twenty-five cents,” said a colored man in the crowd.
 The audience gave way to a hearty burst of laughter at the
richness of the bid.
“Thirty cents,” added Colonel Wimpleton, as soon as the noise
had subsided.
The auctioneer dwelt on it for a moment, and then the colored
man advanced to thirty-one cents. By this time it was clear to us that
these proceedings were a farce, intended to torment my father. I
had never endured agonies more keen than those which followed
these ridiculous bids, as I became conscious that my father was the
butt of the company’s derision. The colonel, more liberal than the
negro, went up to thirty-five cents; whereupon the latter advanced
another cent, amid the laughter and jeers of the assembly. Thus it
continued for some time, the colored man, who had doubtless been
engaged to play his part, going up one cent and the great man four.
Others occasionally bid a cent or a half-cent more; and half an hour
was consumed in windy eloquence by the auctioneer, and in cent
and half-cent bids, before the offer reached a dollar.
“One dollar and five cents,” said Colonel Wimpleton, at this point.
“One dollar and six cents,” promptly responded the negro.
“One dollar and six cents is bid for this very desirable estate,”
added the auctioneer. “Consider, gentlemen, the value of this
property, and the circumstances under which it is sold. Every dollar
you bid goes into the pocket of the honest and hard-working
mortgagor.”
“One dollar and ten cents,” said the colonel, as if moved by this
appeal.
“Dollar ’leven,” added the negro.
“Consider, gentlemen, the situation of the unfortunate man
whose interest in this property I am selling.”
“Dollar fifteen,” said the colonel.
“Dollar fifteen and a half,” persisted the negro, amid roars of
laughter.
“One thousand dollars,” said some one in the rear of the crowd,
in a loud, clear tone.
If the explosion of the honest skipper’s canal boat, which had
been the indirect cause of the present gathering, had taken place in
the midst of the crowd, it could not have produced greater
amazement and consternation than the liberal bid of the gentleman
on the outskirts of the assemblage. It was a bombshell of the first
magnitude which burst upon the hilarious people of Centreport, met,
as it seemed to me, for the sole purpose of sacrificing my poor
father. I recognized the voice of the bidder.
It was Major Toppleton.
I had not seen him before. I did not know he was present. I
afterwards learned that he arrived only a moment before he made
the bid, and only had time to perceive the nature of the farce which
was transpiring before he turned it into a tragedy.
“Dollar fifteen and a half,” repeated the auctioneer, so startled
that he chose not to take the astounding bid of the magnate of
Middleport.
“I bid one thousand dollars,” shouted Major Toppleton, angrily, as
he forced his way through the crowd to the foot of the steps where
the auctioneer stood.
“One thousand dollars is bid,” said the auctioneer, reluctantly.
I looked at Colonel Wimpleton, who stood near me. His face was
red, and his portly frame quaked with angry emotions. My father’s
property in the house was saved. We looked at each other, and
smiled our gratitude.
“Toppleton must not have the property,” said Colonel Wimpleton
to his lawyer, who stood next to him, while his teeth actually grated
with the savage ire which shook his frame. “He will put a nuisance
under my very nose. Eleven hundred,” gasped the great man of
Centreport, with frantic energy; and he was so furious at the
interference of the major that I do not think he knew what he was
about.
“Twelve hundred,” added Major Toppleton, quietly, now that this
bid had been taken.
“Thirteen,” hoarsely called the colonel.
“Fourteen.”
“Fifteen.”
The crowd stood with their mouths wide open, waiting the issue
with breathless eagerness. The auctioneer repeated the bids as he
would have pronounced the successive sentences of his own death
warrant. Colonel Wimpleton had by this time forgotten all about my
father, and was intent only on preventing his great enemy from
buying the estate.
“Sixteen,” said the major, who, seeing the torture he was
inflicting upon his malignant rival, was in excellent humor.
“Seventeen,” promptly responded Colonel Wimpleton.
“Eighteen.”
“Nineteen,” gasped the colonel.
“Two thousand.”
“Twenty-one hundred,” roared the colonel, desperately.
“Twenty-two,” laughed the major.
The colonel was listening to the remonstrance of his lawyer, and
the auctioneer was permitted to dwell on the last bid for a moment.
“Twenty-three!” shouted the colonel.
“Twenty-three hundred dollars—twenty-three, twenty-three,
twenty-three,” chipped the auctioneer, with professional formality,
when the major did not instantly follow the last bid. “Going at
twenty-three hundred! Are you all done?”
“Knock it off!” growled the colonel, savagely, but in a low tone.
“Going at twenty-three hundred—one—two—three—and gone, to
Colonel Wimpleton, at twenty-three hundred,” added the auctioneer,
as he brought down his hammer for the last time.
“Pretty well sold, after all,” said the major to me, as he rubbed
his hands.
“Yes, sir; thanks to you, it is very well sold,” I replied, running
over with joy at the unexpected termination of the farce.
Colonel Wimpleton swore like a pirate. He was the maddest man
on the western continent.
“Colonel, if you are dissatisfied with your bargain, I shall be
happy to take the property at my last bid,” said the major as he
walked out into the road.
I will not repeat what the great man of Centreport said in reply,
for it was not fit to be set down on clean, white paper. My father and
I crossed the lake, and went home with the good news to my
mother, who was anxiously waiting to hear the result. Whatever joy
she experienced at the good fortune of my father, she was too good
a woman to exult over the quarrels of the two great men.
“I think Colonel Wimpleton will not try to punish me any more,”
said my father. “He pays eight hundred dollars more than I was
offered for the place. If he is satisfied, I am.”
The next day the twenty-three hundred dollars, less the expenses
of the sale, was paid over to my father. He had already cast longing
eyes upon a beautiful estate on the outskirts of the town of
Middleport, having ten acres of land, with a fine orchard; but the
owner would not sell it for less than five thousand dollars. The fruit
upon the place would more than pay the interest of the money; and,
as soon as he had received the proceeds of the sale, he bought the
estate, paying two thousand down, and giving a mortgage for three
thousand. We moved in immediately. The house was even better
than that we had occupied in Centreport, and I assure the reader, in
concluding my story, that we were as happy as any family need be
left at the end of a last chapter.
Of the Lake Shore Railroad I have much more to say, in other
stories which will follow. The road was soon completed to Grass
Springs, thirteen miles from Middleport, and I ran the dummy to that
point during the autumn. In due time we had a regular locomotive
and cars, and ran to Ucayga, where we connected with a great line
of railway between the east and the west. We had a great deal of
trouble with the Wimpletonians, and the Centreporters generally, of
which something will be said in my next story—“Lightning Express, or
The Rival Academies.”
The Toppletonians continued to treat me very kindly, and I did
my best for them. Our family troubles appeared to be all ended. My
father was as steady as he had ever been, and though we heard
nothing from Christy, we were on the high road to prosperity. Miss
Grace Toppleton was frequently a passenger in the dummy, and I
must add that she was always very kind and considerate to me. I am
sure her smile encouraged me to be good and true, and to be
faithful in the discharge of my duty; or, in other words, to put it
Through by Daylight.
 THE NORWOOD SERIES

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History, Biography, Heroism, and Adventure
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of History” and the ever popular Headley
biographies. It is just the library to entertain and inform a live boy,
and while composed of books that arouse eager interest is wholly
free from cheap sensationalism.

1. Andersen, Hans Christian—The Sand Hills of Jutland

2. Armstrong, F. C.—The Young Middy
3. Barrows, Rev. William—Twelve Nights in a Hunter’s Camp
4. Ballantyne, R. M.—The Life Boat
5. Brehat, Alfred de—The French Robinson Crusoe
6. Cozzens, Samuel W.—The Young Silver Seekers
7. Clarke, Mary Cowden—Yarns of an Old Mariner
8. De Mille, Prof. James—Among the Brigands
9. The Lily and the Cross
10. The Winged Lion or Stories of Venice
11. Farrar Capt. Charles A. J.—Down the West Branch or Camps
and Tramps around Katahdin
12. Eastward Ho! or Adventures at Rangeley Lakes
13. Up the North Branch A Summer’s Outing
14. Wild Woods Life or A Trip to Parmachenee
15. Frost, John, LL.D.—Wild Scenes of a Hunter’s Life
16. Hall, Capt. Charles W.—Twice Taken A Tale of Louisburg
17. Harley, Dr.—-The Young Crusoe or Adventures of a
Shipwrecked Boy
18. Headley, P. C.—Facing the Enemy The Life of Gen Wm.
Tecumseh Sherman
19. Fight It Out on This Line The Life and Deeds of Gen U. S.
Grant
20. Fighting Phil The Life of Gen. Philip Henry Sheridan
21. Old Salamander The Life of Admiral David G. Farragut
22. Old Stars The Life of Gen. Ormsby M. Mitchell
23. The Miner Boy and His Monitor The Career of John
Ericsson, Engineer
24. Kingston, W. H. K.—Anthony Waymouth
25. Ernest Bracebridge or School Boy Days
26. The Adventures of Dick Onslow among the Redskins
27. The Cruise of the Frolic
28. Lee, Mrs. R.—The African Crusoes
29. The Australian Wanderers
30. McCabe, James D., Jr—Planting the Wilderness
31. Macy, William H.—The Whales We Caught and How We Did It
32. Morecamp, Arthur—Live Boys or Charlie and Nasho in Texas
33. Live Boys in the Black Hills or the Young Texas Gold
Hunters
34. Pearson. Dr. C. H.—The Cabin on the Prairie
35. The Young Pioneers of the Northwest
36. Rowcroft, Charles—The Australian Crusoes
37. St. John, Percy B.—The Arctic Crusoe Adventures on the Sea
of Ice
38. Towle, George Makepeace—Drake the Sea King of Devon
39. Magellan or The First Voyage around the World
40. Marco Polo His Travels and Adventures
41. Pizzaro His Adventures and Conquests
42. Raleigh His Voyages and Adventures
43. Vasco da Gama His Voyages and Adventures
44. The Heroes and Martyrs of Invention
45. Verne, Jules—A Winter in the Ice
46. Around the World in Eighty Days
47. The Wreck of the Chancellor
48. Wraxhall, Sir Lascelles—Golden Hair A Tale of the Pilgrim
Fathers
49. The Prairie Crusoe or Adventures in the Far West
50. Willis the Pilot A Sequel to the Swiss Family Robinson

LEE and SHEPARD Publishers Boston

 Transcriber’s Note
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inaccuracies were silently corrected.
Archaic and variable spelling has been preserved.
Variations in hyphenation and compound words have been preserved.
New original cover art included with this eBook is granted to the public
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Corrections

pp. 43, 45, 47, 58, 198: had drank to had drunk
p. 49, seach to search
p. 77: ably to able
p. 226 illustration: FOR to FROM
p. 249: had not drank to had not drunk
p. 276: forget to forgot
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