How John Became a Man: Life Story of a Motherless Boy — Background and Themes
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John had chosen Will, who was several years the oldest, to be his closest friend and companion. Regardless of these facts, however, the three boys generally played together. Their playground was the vast dooryard extending far out over the prairie.
In time they were given the responsibility of herding the cows. To herd the cows meant to see that the cattle did not wander about in the neighborhood corn, wheat, and barley fields that were scattered about here and there over the prairies and that were in but few instances fenced, and to see that they were driven to some water-place at certain intervals and were brought home at the milking hour.
The watering places were known as "buffalo-wallows," for they had been made by the buffalos in wallowing. These basins were usually kept filled with water by the rains. Some of the "wallows," or "ponds," were rather deep, and were treacherous because of sudden "drop-offs"; but they were usually shallow, and it was generally safe for the children to play along the edge.
After the first sharp edge of his grief was dulled, John's father did not feel it so keenly his duty to instruct his child and to teach him to reverence his Creator; and when John was about six years of age, the father was kept so busy with his work that he had but little time to spend with the child. John's aunt, too, although a good woman, was too much occupied with housekeeping to do her duty by her own two boys, much less by a third. So John and his cousins had spent nearly all of the three years that they had been together in doing as they pleased, and in finding as much enjoyment in living as it was possible for them to find. It was, therefore, not strange that they had learned and invented many new ways to get amusement, and that some of these were evil; for Satan, as he always does in such cases, had lent them a helping hand.
The work of attending to the cows did not, of course, occupy nearly all their time, and the boys found it great sport to play around the wallows and in them.
On one occasion Will said:
"Say, boys, did you ever hear the story about the man who walked upon the water? I don't remember just how the story went; but I heard somebody say that the man's name was Jesus, and that another man got out of a boat to go and meet Him. The first fellow did all right, but the second one came very near drowning because he looked down at the water. Maybe he wanted to see how deep the water was, and I guess he would have got drowned if they hadn't been close to the shore. Now, I am going to do like Jesus did. Want to see me?"
Naturally both the boys wanted to see him perform a feat like that, and Will quickly scampered into the water. Now, the wallow was very shallow all the way across, and Will was soon on the opposite side. The smaller boys, not knowing the depth of the water, supposed that it was deep and that Will had actually done some marvelous thing. Will did not know that he was doing wrong by speaking lightly of one of the Savior's miracles; for he had never been in Sunday-school, and his parents had not taught him the sacredness of the words and acts of the Savior. He simply wanted to play a joke on his companions.
The smaller boys talked the matter over when they were alone, and John said:
"Say, Charley, what do you suppose held Will up the other day on that water? That wallow must have been deep out in the middle. Let's try it some time for ourselves when Will isn't around. I believe we could do it as well as he did."
Charley was agreed, and the two smaller lads watched their chance. One day when Will was not with them, they chose a wallow that they thought would answer their purpose. "I'll go first," Charley said, and he hurried forward as rapidly as his little crippled limb could carry him, to the water's edge and out into the pond.
Suddenly poor little Charley disappeared. John saw his cousin as he went down into the deep water, and realized his danger. He knew that something must be done and done at once, and with a bound he sprang in after his companion. He did not, however, go beyond the shallow water, and when his cousin came to the surface, he reached out his hand and caught him by the hair; and as Charley had not lost the power to help himself, he was soon able, by John's assistance, to scramble to a place of safety.
The boys decided that they would say nothing about the accident; and as they remained away from the house long enough for Charley's clothing to dry, no questions were asked. But was the scene unnoticed? No. He who notes the sparrow's fall was watching over these little boys; He had not forgotten John's little prayer that had been taught him by his father. God was caring for these little untaught children in that vast prairie pasture.
Almost without exception the homes on the prairies were provided with sod cellars. Even the few modern dwellings in the community in which John's uncle lived were not without these old-fashioned cellars, which served as a protection in times of storms and tornadoes. The cellars served also as places in which to store the fruits and vegetables for winter use. And very often, too, a large quantity of tobacco leaves that had been dried and kept back when the summer's crop was sold could be discovered in one of these places.
The home of John's uncle was provided with just such a cellar--a deep hole dug in the ground and covered over with a dense roofing of brush, mud, and sod. Within this cellar a large supply of tobacco leaves had been stored. John had been in the cellar many times. He knew the tobacco was there, and he knew to what use his uncle put the tobacco. He knew also that his cousin Will both chewed and smoked the leaves, but it had not occurred to him that he himself could do so.
The reason why he had not thought of using it was perhaps that his father had once told him that the using of tobacco was a bad habit and urged him to let it alone. But the fact that he had not been tempted did not guarantee that he would not be; the fact that he had no appetite for tobacco did not conclusively prove that he would never acquire one; nor did the fact that he had been told to let tobacco alone warrant that he would need no further watching--for an unforeseen temptation was lurking near.
One day when John went into the cellar with his cousin Will, his cousin filled a pipe with the leaves and offered it to him, bidding him smoke. John shook his head, and said that he did not want to smoke, for his father had said that using tobacco was a bad habit and that it would ruin his health.
"Then, why does he use it himself?" Will reasoned. "Do you suppose that he would use it if he thought that it was going to hurt him? Now, John, look here; you said that you wanted to become a man. Here's your chance. If you get to where you can smoke a pipe, chew tobacco, and spit, in the way that your father and my dad do, you will be a man. Just some folks' saying that it is a bad habit doesn't need to make any difference with you."
As John thought over his cousin's words, they did seem reasonable, and he remembered that all the men he had ever seen used tobacco. So he decided that, if he expected to be a man himself, he must soon begin to use it, too. He therefore accepted the pipe and began to puff vigorously at the stem. But try as he would, he couldn't make the pretty little curls of smoke mount up into the air as he had watched his father and other men do. Very soon, however, a deathly sickness began to steal over him. His head and stomach hurt, and he could scarcely help falling down on the floor of the cellar.
"O Will," he said, as he gave the pipe to his cousin, "I am so sick! Let's get out of here. I feel as though I was going to die!" And John started in an attempt to find the opening through which he had entered the cellar, but to his surprise and terror he could not find it.
"O Will," he said, "this is all your fault! You know I didn't want to smoke. I wish now that I hadn't listened to you. Father said tobacco would make me sick, but I didn't know it would be so bad as this. Tell me, does it always make people sick? and do they ever die?"
"Yes, it usually makes them pretty sick," Will answered. "But they always get over it; and each time they smoke, they get more used to it, or something, and after a while they don't get sick at all. Look at me. It never makes me sick, but it did at first. Surely you can stand a little sickness when you know that it is going to make a man of you!"
John concluded that under those circumstances he could endure his suffering. But he did not try to smoke any more that morning. With Will's assistance he found the doorway of the cellar and went out where the air was more pure. Gradually, he began to feel better. When dinner time came, however, he did not care to eat; but he kept repeating to himself, "It won't be this way long, and I can afford to suffer if it will make a man of me." How sad to think that one so young should be so deceived!
Could someone have taught him then that the sick feeling that had so distressed him was caused by the strong poison contained in the tobacco, it might have encouraged him never to touch it again. Had his father explained that every pound of tobacco contains three hundred and twenty grains of this poison, one grain of which will kill a large dog in about three minutes; or told him the story of how a man once ran a needle and thread that had been dipped in the poison through the skin of a frog and of how the frog in a few moments began to act like a drunken person, vomited, and hopped about as fast as possible, and then laid down, twitched for a moment in agony, and died; or informed him that many people become insane just through the use of tobacco, John might have yet been influenced to leave the poisonous stuff alone--but perhaps his father did not know. Anyway, John was left without this much-needed information.
Boys who are not properly warned of the danger of tobacco-using are to be pitied more than blamed if they indulge; but their ignorance does not lessen the harm and the evils wrought. When the poison gets into the system, it affects the most vital organs; it undermines that strength and destroys that beauty which ornament true manhood and which assure an individual of success. Besides, the continued using causes the indulger to form a habit that cannot be easily overcome.
John, being not fully warned of the dreadful consequences of using tobacco, and yet determined to become a man, kept on smoking until he so accustomed his system to the shock that he felt satisfied he was becoming a conqueror and would soon be able to show his father that he was now a man.
During the time that John was undergoing such severe temptation, his father was very busy. He realized that his child needed more instruction than he was receiving and that Will's influence over John was not good; but just what advice to give, he hardly knew. Once he thought that he could smell tobacco smoke on his boy's clothing so calling John to his side, he said:
"John, I feel that I must tell you something more about certain bad habits that so many boys form while they are young. You remember I told you that smoking and chewing tobacco ruin many a life. Now, I am not going to say that you cannot use tobacco; but I wish that for my sake, as well as for your own, you would let it alone, for it is indeed a very bad habit."
To this advice John made no reply; for an appetite was being formed, and in his heart he decided to keep right on. It would have been better could his father have remembered the temptations of his own boyhood days. He might then have more fully realized how next to impossible it is for a parent to availingly teach his child to do something without first setting before the child an example that is worthy of imitation. Could he have helped his little son to understand the true meaning of manhood and the necessity of building up within himself in youth a noble, honest, and always-to-be-depended-upon character, as well as the need of developing a strong body, he might have laid a foundation upon which John could have later safely builded.
John dearly loved his father and wanted to please him. And to his mind he could best please his father by as quickly as possible becoming a man. So, with the thought of early manhood ever before him, he felt that, in using tobacco, he was doing right. And then, too, Charley had learned to smoke and chew, and it would be very hard indeed to be near the boys and not to join in with them.
By the time that John had passed his seventh birthday, the small amount of tobacco that was kept in the cellar was not sufficient to fill the demand of the three boys without too rapidly diminishing the uncle's supply, and the boys decided to look elsewhere.
Now, John's aunt had at one time explained to the boys that lying and stealing are wrong; but she had not made it clear that deceiving is lying and that taking little things that did not belong to them, even though they took the things from some member of the family, is stealing, and that just such thefts lead to the greater crimes that send men and women to prison. Instead, she gave the advice in such a way that, though they were impressed with a horror of stealing, the boys could only in part comprehend her meaning. But because she had warned them, she felt that she had done her duty and that they ought to know right from wrong in regard to that matter without further explanation.
She did not realize that it was her duty to watch, encourage, and advise, and also to find out when mischief was being planned. In fact, this aunt and mother, busy with her own cares, knew nothing of the possibilities for a child whose confidence and love had been won, and who, through loving counsel, had gained a knowledge of evils and their effects before he had formed ruinous habits or his mind had been polluted with false ideas. Being thus left to themselves to discern as best they could the difference between right and wrong, the boys nearly always chose the wrong; and as a result, constantly went deeper and deeper into sinful things.
What the Big Chest Contained
Great sins always have a beginning; the first attempts to do evil are not hard to check if taken in time, but if allowed to be carried out, it is impossible to tell what the results may be. How sad it was that John and his cousins did not have someone to check them!
The boys now decided to keep close watch, and to avail themselves of every opportunity to procure tobacco, even if they were forced to steal it. The word "steal" had, of course, a certain horror to John because of the picture his aunt had described of a prison and a thief; but he soothed his conscience by saying, "There isn't anything else in the world except tobacco that I would think of stealing." But the stealing habit, like the tobacco habit, continues to grow stronger, unless it is in some way broken. As tobacco contains a poison that affects the physical being, so in a similar manner lying and stealing have a ruinous effect upon the moral nature. The three--lying, stealing, and tobacco using--too often go hand in hand.
The first effort of the boys to secure the much-coveted tobacco was made one day when they, while roaming about over the prairie, discovered a man hard at work in a field. The man seemed to be lifting something that was very heavy, and Will suggested to the boys that they go and lend their services provided the man would give them each a chew of his tobacco in return; and Will did not forget to add that they must each take as generous a bite as their mouths could accommodate. The man was glad to accept their help; and together with his own efforts, the work was soon finished. Then, in fulfillment of his agreement, he handed them his plug of tobacco that they might each take the "chew" he had promised them.
According to Will's suggestion the boys did not stop with an ordinary chew; but each took all that his mouth would contain. When they returned the plug, it was so small that the boys were all afraid the man would find fault with them; so they hurried away from the spot as rapidly as possible. As soon as they were far enough away, they removed the tobacco from their mouths; and they found that, by taking very small chews at a time, the amount was sufficient to last them for some time. Several times they succeeded in securing tobacco in this way, and by economizing were able to get along pretty well for a while. But the plan did not always work; for the neighbors' becoming aware of the scheme, prepared themselves with a small piece of tobacco to offer the greedy boys.
After that, in order to secure their tobacco, they were often forced to pick up partly-chewed quids, found where they had been thrown away by the owners. These the boys usually washed; sometimes, however, in their eagerness they could not wait to attend to even this amount of cleanliness, but crammed the tobacco into their mouths just as they had found it. Even cigar stubs; in fact, everything in the form of tobacco, that had been thrown away, they eagerly gathered and used to satisfy their ravenous appetites.
With a foundation now laid for both lying and stealing and with their consciences dulled, the boys were constantly laying plans to gratify their evil desires. Many a pocket they robbed of its contents if it happened to contain tobacco in any form. But this was a slow process at best; even under the most favorable circumstances it yielded them but very little returns for their efforts. But one day Will informed the boys that he had made a discovery--that he had found out that there was a lot of plug tobacco in the big chest in his father's room. "Now, if we could think up some way to get into that chest when the old folks are gone away to town," he suggested, "we could get all the chewing tobacco we would want for a long while. I thought I would watch and see where Dad put the key, but he took it with him. Guess he carries it with him everywhere he goes. I wonder if we couldn't manage in some way to break the lock. My, but I tell you we could get a big haul! I wonder if we hadn't better try it some day when the old folks go to town?"
"Hooray, that's just it!" shouted the smaller boys in the same breath.
And John asked quickly: "When will they go to town again? This is only Wednesday."
The first chapter of How John Became a Man establishes a stark contrast between the prairie's natural landscape and the moral state of its inhabitants. The two-story frame house stands out among sod dwellings, signaling that John's family is set apart. The narrator immediately introduces Death as a “grim monster” waiting outside, foreshadowing the mother's loss. This opening orients the reader to a world where spiritual awareness is scarce and where the physical environment mirrors the characters' inner lives.
The Prairie as Moral Landscape
The opening excerpt describes a prairie where “buffaloes and wild horses once had roamed” and where cacti and yuccas “thrived and bloomed.” This setting is not merely scenic; it establishes a frontier where most people “think principally of getting all the enjoyment from their every-day lives” and give little thought to the hereafter. The narrator explicitly states that the younger generation “scarcely knew that there was a God.” By placing John's home—a rare frame house—in this context, the author signals that the boy's story will be one of moral struggle against a surrounding indifference. Readers should note how the landscape itself becomes a character, shaping the opportunities and temptations John faces.
The Homemade Card Deck as a Turning Point
In a later excerpt, John and his cousin Will craft a deck of cards from cardboard boxes, using a “dish of lard” with a rag wick for light. The description is precise: John cuts the cardboard with a “very sharp knife,” and they draw hearts, diamonds, and other markings. The crude result disappoints them, but they use it night after night, heads bent low, “scheming and planning.” The narrator then inserts a direct warning: card-playing “wields an influence that is very harmful, especially to the young.” This moment is pivotal because it shows John's resourcefulness turning toward deception. The homemade deck—born from boredom and ingenuity—becomes the tool for gambling and cheating. Readers should watch how this single object catalyzes a shift from innocent play to moral compromise.
The Author's Direct Address and Moral Framework
Isabel C. Byrum does not let the story speak entirely for itself. In the preface, she states her hope that the book will “suggest to the minds of young boys the great wrong there is in indulging in evil habits.” She calls the story “a true one” and frames it as an answered prayer. Throughout the excerpts, the narrator steps in with commentary: card-playing “helps to pave the way for other things that are wrong and deceitful.” This direct moralizing is a deliberate structural choice. For a first reader, these interjections serve as guideposts, clarifying which behaviors the author intends to condemn. The effect is that the narrative feels less like an adventure and more like a sermon in disguise, where every event carries a lesson.
The Unseen Mother and the Longing for Guidance
John's mother dies early in the story, leaving him with a “longing” that resurfaces at moments of separation. When Will and his family depart, the narrator notes that “that old longing again clutched at his heart.” The mother's absence is a constant emotional undercurrent, though the excerpts do not reveal how it shapes John's later choices. The author uses this loss to create sympathy and to underscore John's vulnerability. Without a mother's influence, John turns to peers and to his own devices. First-time readers should pay attention to how this void is filled—by the card games, by the circus, and by other influences that the catalog subjects label as “conduct of life” challenges. The mother's death is not just a plot point; it is the emotional engine that makes John's moral journey urgent.
As you read, notice how Byrum balances storytelling with instruction. The prairie, the homemade cards, and the narrator's asides all work together to create a world where every action has a spiritual consequence. The excerpts offer only fragments of John's full arc, but they reveal a consistent pattern: temptation arrives in ordinary forms, and the boy's choices are always observed—by God, by the reader, and by the author's unflinching commentary.
Reading of John’s homemade card deck, those fragile bits of frontier make-do, reminded me how a quiet object can anchor a boy’s whole moral world. There is a similar tenderness in how Radio Boys Cronies treats Bill’s first wireless set—not a gadget, but a doorway. That same gentle earnestness lingers, like sunlight on a sill: Radio Boys Cronies; Or, Bill Brown's Radio — A Reader’s Guide.
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