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diff --git a/43697-0.txt b/43697-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..90c95a7 --- /dev/null +++ b/43697-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,2614 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 43697 *** + +[Illustration: CHICKENS AND "POETRY." Page 111.] + + + + +THE MARTIN AND NELLY STORIES. + +NELLY'S FIRST SCHOOLDAYS. + + BY + JOSEPHINE FRANKLIN. + AUTHOR OF "NELLY AND HER FRIENDS." + + BOSTON: + FRED'K A. BROWN & CO., PUBLISHERS, + 29 CORNHILL. + 1862. + + + + + Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1860, by + + BROWN AND TAGGARD, + + In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the District of + Massachusetts. + + RIVERSIDE, CAMBRIDGE: + STEREOTYPED AND PRINTED BY + H. O. HOUGHTON AND COMPANY. + + + + +LIST OF THE + +"MARTIN AND NELLY STORIES." + + + I. NELLY AND HER FRIENDS. + II. NELLY'S FIRST SCHOOLDAYS. + III. NELLY AND HER BOAT. + IV. LITTLE BESSIE. + V. NELLY'S VISIT. + VI. ZELMA. + VII. MARTIN. + VIII. COUSIN REGULUS. + IX. MARTIN AND NELLY. + X. MARTIN ON THE MOUNTAIN. + XI. MARTIN AND THE MILLER. + XII. TROUTING, OR GYPSYING IN THE WOODS. + + + + +CONTENTS. + + + PAGE + + CHAPTER I. + MILLY 7 + + CHAPTER II. + "MELINDY" 25 + + CHAPTER III. + COMFORT'S NEFFY 51 + + CHAPTER IV. + "LET'S MAKE FRIENDS!" 72 + + CHAPTER V. + CHICKENS AND "POETRY" 109 + + CHAPTER VI. + GETTING LOST 129 + + + + +NELLY'S FIRST SCHOOL-DAYS. + + + + +CHAPTER I. + +MILLY. + + +Not very far from Nelly's home, stood a small, time-worn, wooden house. + +It was not a pleasant object at which to look. A few vines that had +been trained over one of the front windows, and a stunted currant-bush +which stood by the door, were the only green things within the broken +fence. In summer, the cottage looked bald and hot, from its complete +exposure to the sun (no trees grew near to shade it), and in winter, +the rough winds rattled freely around its unprotected walls. + +In this house lived a family by the name of Harrow. It consisted of the +widowed mother, a woman who had once moved in a far higher sphere of +life, and her two daughters, Milly and Elinor. There was a son, too, +people said, but he did not live at home, having had the ingratitude, +some time before the Harrows moved to the village, to desert his home +and run away to sea. + +Mrs. Harrow and her children were very poor. No one knew but themselves +how hard they found it to get work enough to earn their daily bread. +The neighbors, among whom they were much respected, had long supposed +from many outward signs that the family had no means to spare, but +they were far from conjecturing that often, the mild, patient-looking +Mrs. Harrow, and her two gentle girls, were losing their strength from +actual famine. The little money they had, came to them through their +own exertions; their needle-work was celebrated far and near for its +delicacy and exquisite finish. In that small neighborhood, however, the +sewing which was brought to them to undertake, did not amount to much, +and the prices, too, were low, and provision-rates very high. + +At last, just as despair was dawning on the household, Elinor, the +eldest daughter, heard of a situation as domestic in the family of a +farmer, who lived over the mountains, near Nancy's old home. The poor +girl's pride was dreadfully wounded at the thought of applying for +such a place, she a lady born and bred, but necessity knew no law, +and a few days only elapsed before pretty Miss Elinor was located at +the farm as a servant. It was a hard trial; mournful tears forced +themselves from her eyes whenever she gave herself time to think about +such a state of affairs. + +The farmer was a poor, hard-working, painstaking man, and his wife was +quite as thrifty and industrious, so that between them they managed to +lay by a little money, every year, in the Savings Bank. + +When Elinor came to them, the bustling farmer's wife could not realize +that the tall, pale, elegant-looking creature was not quite as able to +rub and scrub from morning to night as she was herself. She did not +take into consideration that the girl was unaccustomed to much hard +labor, and that her frame was not equal to the burdens that were put +upon it. + +The consequence was that when Elinor went to her room at night, she was +too completely worn out to sleep, and in the mornings, rose feeling +sick and weary. She did not complain, however, but went about her +duties day after day, growing gradually more pale and feeble, and +storing in her system the seeds of future disease. + +When the farmer's wife saw her moving slowly around her tidy, spotless +kitchen, she thought her a lazy girl, and often told her so in a loud, +sharp tone, that was a very great trial to hear patiently, which +Elinor always did, and then set about working more steadily than ever. + +So the weeks went on, till, one morning, the maid of all work was +missing from her place. She had been seized with a sickness, that had +long been secretly hanging over her, and now she could not rise from +her bed. + +Martin, a boy who lived at Mr. Brooks', told Nelly that Miss Elinor +fell at her post like a sentinel wounded on duty. + +When the doctor came, he informed the farmer and his wife that their +servant had lost the use of her limbs, through an affection of the +spine, which had been brought on by lifting too heavy burdens, and she +was indeed as unable to move hand or foot to help herself as a baby +could be. Her mind, however, was not impaired. The farmer thought it +would have been fortunate if it had been, for she seemed to suffer such +terrible mental anguish about her misfortune, and the new care and +misery she was bringing on her mother and sister. + +The farmer took her home in his wagon, a confirmed cripple. Her mother +and Milly helped him to carry her up to her old bedroom, and there she +lay, suffering but little pain, it is true, but at the time of our +story, having no hope of recovery. + +The days were very long to Elinor now. She despised herself for ever +having repined at fate before. What was all she had endured previously, +to this trial? There was no light work of any kind, not even sewing, +which she could do, as she lay on her bed, and this made the time seem +longer. She was forced to be idle from daylight till dark. She could +have read, it is true, but she had no books, and to buy any was an +extravagance, of which, with the scanty means of the family, she did +not allow herself to dream. + +The neighbors were shocked to hear of Elinor's misfortune. They visited +her, and at first, sent her little delicacies to tempt her appetite, +but by and by, although they pitied her as much as ever, they forgot +her in the events of their own domestic circles. + +One very cold winter night Milly came into Mrs. Brooks's kitchen, and +asked Comfort, a colored woman who worked for the family, where her +mistress was. Comfort promptly led the way to the sitting-room, where +grouped coseyly around the centre-table were the different members of +the farmer's family. A bright fire blazed on the hearth, and the woolen +curtains were tightly drawn to keep out the winds that whistled around +the farm-house. + +At the sight of this picture of comfort, Milly's pretty lips quivered. +She took kind-hearted Mrs. Brooks aside. + +"Dear Mrs. Brooks," said Milly, "I _must_ say it; we are starving! +Elinor lies dying with cold and hunger, in her bed. Mother has not +tasted a mouthful since yesterday, and she is so proud she would not +let me beg. What _are_ we to do? I have run over here to ask your +sympathy and aid, for we have not one friend to whom we feel as though +we might apply." + +Tears gathered in Milly's eyes. + +"And pray," said the farmer's wife, "what do you consider _me_, Milly, +if not a friend? You ought not to have delayed so long in this matter. +I feel really hurt. Why did you not come to me before?" + +She led the way into the kitchen that the young girl's sad tale might +not draw upon her too close attention from the children. + +Milly Harrow sank upon a seat, before the fire on the hearth, and wept +such bitter, heart-breaking tears as it is to be hoped no one who reads +her story has ever known. She was a gentle, refined, well-educated girl +of twenty, and had met much more sorrow than happiness. + +"Milly," said the farmer's wife kindly, and advancing as she spoke, +from the open door of the pantry, "come here to the table and see how a +bit of this roast fowl tastes. And try this glass of currant wine,--you +need not be afraid of it, it is home-made. While you are busy with it, +I'll get a little basket ready, and put on my cloak to run over with +you when you go back." + +Milly blushed crimson. It was difficult to her to learn the hard +lessons of poverty. Nevertheless, she ate some bread and cold chicken, +and was quite ready to praise the delicate wine for the grateful warmth +it sent thrilling throughout her frame. + +When she had finished, Mrs. Brooks was ready to accompany her, and +Comfort too, having received private instructions, stood with her +shawl over her head, and a large basket of wood in her hand. + +So they set out together, Milly leading the way, the snow crunching +under their feet, along the path. + +In a short time, a bright fire was burning in patient Elinor's room, +while the remains of a little feast on a table in the centre, showed +that the family suffered no longer from the pangs of actual starvation. + +Elinor was bolstered up in bed, looking like a wan, despairing woman +of fifty, instead of a girl of twenty-two. Care and sickness had aged +her before her time. A faint, sweet flush was dawning on her cheeks +to-night, however, for she was not now enduring hunger, and Mrs. Brooks +sat there by the cheerfully blazing hearth with her mother and sister, +and talked hope into all their hearts. + +"I tell you what it is, Mrs. Harrow," said the farmer's wife, in a +pleasant, hearty tone, "we must set this Milly of yours to work. Things +ought not to go on this way with your family any longer." + +"Work!" echoed Milly, a little bitterly. "I've seen the time, dear Mrs. +Brooks, when I would have given anything for a month's work. Only tell +me something to do, and see how grateful I shall be." + +"Well," said the farmer's wife, "the darkest hour is just before day, +Milly; who knows but that yours is now over, and dawn is coming. I have +been thinking about your opening a school." + +Mrs. Harrow clasped her hands eagerly. + +"Oh, if she could! oh, if she could!" she cried. "But who would think +of sending their children to us, when there are already two or three +other schools in the village?" + +"Miss Felix is just giving hers up, and is going to the city," said +Mrs. Brooks. "I know it to be a fact, because I went to see her about +taking Nelly last week. That will be quite an opening. I can go to her +to-morrow, get a list of her pupils, and call on the parents to secure +their good-will, if you say so, Milly." + +Milly could scarcely answer for sobbing. At last she said in a broken +voice, "dear, dear Mrs. Brooks, this is more than I have any reason to +hope. How can I ever repay you for your kindness?" + +"By taking good care of Nelly when I send her to you as your first +pupil," was the cheerful reply. "And now let me see what are your +accommodations. You must have our Martin for a day or two, to knock you +together some long benches with backs, and Comfort can help you cover +and cushion them with some old green baize that I have in the garret. +What room can you give to the use of the schoolmistress, Mrs. Harrow?" + +"Well," said the old lady, smiling for the first time in a month, "the +front room, down-stairs, is best, I think, because it opens directly +on the road. I can take the furniture out, (what there is of it!) and +clean it up like a June pink, in a day or two." + +"The carpet is rather shabby and threadbare," suggested Milly. "And +little pegged shoes will soon spoil it completely," added Mrs. Brooks. +"I should say a better plan will be to take it up entirely. A clean +board floor, nicely swept and sanded every morning, is plenty good +enough. What books have you, Milly?" + +"All my old school-books, and brother's, and Elinor's too," said the +young girl. "That will do to begin on till the pupils purchase their +own." + +"I could teach French," put forth Elinor's voice from the bed,--"that +is, if it would answer for the class to come up here. You know, mother, +I used to speak it fluently when I was at Madame Thibault's. Don't you +think I might try? My voice and my patience are strong, if _I_ am not;" +and she smiled, oh, such a smile! It brought tears into the eyes of +all in that poor, little, desolate apartment. + +"Try!" said the farmer's wife; "why, Elinor, that is just the thing for +you! You may count _me_ as one in your class. It was only yesterday I +was regretting having no opportunity to practise what little of the +language I know already. We must arrange your room a little, Ellie, and +have everything looking spruce, and Frenchified, eh?" + +At this Elinor herself began to cry. + +"You are so, s-o-o g-o-o-o-d," she exclaimed. + +"Good! Not at all!" said Mrs. Brooks; and by way of proving how far +from good she was really, she hopped up like a bird, and was at the +bedside in a minute, smoothing out the pillows and kissing Elinor's +pale forehead. + +"I'll take my first lesson to-morrow afternoon," she said, "if you have +no objections; and your kind mother here, can begin to profit herself +at once by your labor, and send over to our meal-bag and dairy as often +as she pleases." + + + + +CHAPTER II. + +"MELINDY." + + +Mrs. Brooks fulfilled her promise, and so faithfully did she work +in the good cause, that a dozen little pupils were engaged for Miss +Milly's school before preparations were fairly made to open it. These +did not take long, however, as Miss Felix, the teacher, who was going +away, sent to Mrs. Harrow's house two long forms of desks and benches, +with her compliments and best wishes to Milly for her future success. + +Milly fairly began to dance around the room, in the new joy of her +heart, on receiving this, to her, valuable present. + +"Everybody," she said, "must not be so kind to us, or I shall have a +sickness brought on by too much happiness." + +Poor Milly! she had so long had a "sorrow-sickness," that the present +good fortune was almost too much to endure. + +For a week she went about cleaning, and sweeping, and dusting, and +making ready generally, for the great event, the opening of her school. +Singing as gayly as a lark, she moved furniture up-stairs and down, +and debated over and over again upon the best arrangement for effect. +The front room was to be especially devoted to the use of her class. +The carpet was removed, and thoughtful Miss Felix's desks and benches +placed in it, along the walls. Mrs. Brooks sent an old white muslin +dress to be made into window-curtains, and Martin spent a whole day in +forming a little platform out of boards, on which, when covered with +green baize, the teacher's table and chair were to rest. + +Even Elinor's sick-chamber assumed a different aspect. One day, +when Mr. Brooks was in the village on business, he stepped into a +paper-hanger's, and chose a cheap, but pretty paper for the lime-washed +wall. It was very cheerful-looking, being formed of alternate stripes +of white and rose-color; "for," said the farmer, when he reached home, +"I warrant Miss Elinor grows tired of seeing the same cracks in the +plaster, year in and year out. She must have something new and gay, +like this, that will help to keep her spirits up!" + +Mrs. Harrow and the farmer's wife pasted this paper on the walls +themselves, with a little assistance from Nelly, who stood ready to +lift benches, hand the scissors back and forth, and give any other +slight aid of which she was capable. + +The house was only one-story high, with a garret, so Elinor's room +had a slanting roof and a dormer window. Mrs. Brooks said it would be +a great improvement, if the striped paper were pasted on the ceiling +too, and joined in the peak with a wood-colored border resembling a +heavy cord or rope. This made the place look, when it was done, like +a pink canvas tent. The change was wonderful. An imitation of a pair +of tassels of the same color and style as the rope border, which the +paper-hanger, hearing of the design, sent to the house as a present to +Miss Elinor, when pasted carefully at each end of the peak, against the +wall, made the illusion perfect. + +Elinor said she lived in the Tent of Kindness. + +The neighbors who came in to inspect all these preparations, said +Elinor's was the very prettiest dormer-room they had ever seen. There +was enough left of the old dress to curtain the single window, which +being done, everything was at last pronounced to be in a state of +readiness. + +And now we must go back to Nelly, who, I suppose, some of my readers +remember, is the adopted daughter of Mr. and Mrs. Brooks. Nelly had +known much sorrow in her short life, as will be seen on reference +to the little story called "NELLY AND HER FRIENDS." She had +never experienced what it was to be loved by father and mother till +now; and when the farmer and his wife began to teach her to call them +by those sacred titles, she felt herself a very happy little girl. She +was delighted at the prospect of attending school. She had never been +to one, and, therefore, perhaps, the novelty of the thing was half the +attraction. + +When the important day arrived, and the child found herself seated in +the class-room with twelve or fourteen other little folks, she was +filled with awe and dismay, so much so, that she scarcely dared turn +around to take a good look at her next neighbor, a girl of twelve, in +the shy dread that she might be caught in the act, which circumstance +would, doubtless, have occasioned her much confusion. + +Miss Harrow did not give her pupils any lessons to learn this first +morning. She said, as no one had books, it should be a day of pleasure +and not of work, and on the morrow they would begin to study in earnest. + +So, during the whole morning, the children drew funny little pictures +on slips of paper, which were handed them for the purpose of amusing +them; and in the afternoon, the teacher made them pull their benches +close to the fire, in cosy rows, while she told them stories. + +As, with the deepest interest, Nelly gravely listened, she came to the +conclusion that this was just the best school of which she had ever +heard, everything was _so_ pleasant. + +There was a little dark-haired boy in a blue jacket, who sat near, and +who whittled her pencil, oh _so_ sharp, every time she blunted it! She +told Comfort, in confidence, when she went home, that this little boy's +pictures were quite as good as any Martin could make. He drew ships +under full sail, oh, beautiful! and as for those men, squaring off +to fight, up in the corner of the paper, they made you think at once +of Uz and Buz the two roosters, that quarrelled every morning in the +barnyard, about which should have the most corn. + +In a week or two, however, Nelly's rapture abated somewhat; and one day +she came home with her books in her hands, and threw herself on one of +the chairs in the kitchen, crying heartily. + +"Heyday," cried Comfort, looking up from the fire, over which she was +broiling a fish. "Heyday, what ar's the matter now?" + +"O Comfort," cried Nelly, "she struck me, she struck me, before them +all!" + +"What!" cried Comfort, standing erect with surprise. "Miss Nelly's been +for whippin' a'ready? Why, Nelly, shame, shame! Dis yer conduct is +oncommon bad of yer." + +"It wasn't Miss Harrow, at all," said Nelly, reddening; "it was that +horrid, old thing, Melindy." + +"Oh, Melindy," echoed Comfort, in a tone of relief. + +"Yes," continued Nelly, "she tries to get me to laugh in school, every +day. She makes eyes at me, big, round ones, _so_, Comfort." + +Comfort chuckled. + +"I don't wonder yer laugh, if she does that way, chile." + +"But that isn't all," added Nelly indignantly. "She chews paper-balls, +and sends them over the room, right at the tip of my nose. Sometimes +they stick there a second or so, till I can put up my hand; and then +the scholars giggle-like. Oh, you've no idea, Comfort, what an awful +girl Melindy is. She punches me, too." + +"Punches, Nelly?" + +"Yes, and to-day, when school was out, she gave me _such_ a +whack,--right in my ribs; shall I show you how, Comfort?" + +"No, thank yer," answered the old woman, laughing. She had a cause for +being good-humored that day. "But why whack such a little critter as +you be, Nell?" + +"Oh," said Nelly, hesitating, "_she_ knows." + +Something in her manner made Comfort suspicious. She sat down and +called Nelly to her. Taking hold of both her hands, she looked her full +in the eyes. + +"Speak the truff," she said; "didn't yer whack Melindy _fust_?" + +"Yes," said Nell, with a curious mixture of honesty and triumph, "I +did, Comfort; I gave her a _good_ one, _I tell you_! I didn't stop to +think about what I was doin' till I felt her whackin' o' _me_ back +again." + +"Then she sarved yer right," said the old colored woman, going back to +her fish, "and I hope she'll treat yer so every time yer begin the +aggrawation." + +"But she snowballed _me_ first, and called out that I was nobody's +child, and was taken out of the streets, and such like. I couldn't +stand _that_, anyhow. I _had_ to whack her, Comfort." + +"No you hadn't," said Comfort, sternly, and at the same time +gesticulating earnestly with the fish-fork. "It wasn't your part to do +any punishin', whatsomever. Leastways, no punishment but one." + +"And what's that?" demanded Nelly, making large A's and O's in the +steam that had settled on the windows. Here Martin suddenly put down a +big newspaper he had been reading in a corner, and which had hidden him +entirely from view. + +"Have you so soon forgotten your old rule of good for evil, Nell?" he +asked. "Don't you know that is what Comfort means?" + +Comfort nodded at him approvingly. + +"But Melindy is ugly, _powerful_ ugly, Martin," said Nell, coloring, +"and anyway she _will_ knock all us little girls. It's born in her. I +think she must have been meant for an Indian, that pulls the hair off +your head, like mother told us about. Doing good to Melindy is just of +no account at all." + +"Did you ever try it?" asked Martin. + +"Well, no-o. You see I could tell it was of no use. And Miss Harrow, +she stands Melindy on a chair with a paper cap on her head, every day, +at dinner-time." + +"Poor girl," said Martin, "I am sorry for her." + +"I'm not," said Nell, promptly, "it keeps her from mischief, you know." + +Martin was silent. + +Comfort began to sing a tune over her fish, interrupting herself at +times with a low, quaint laugh, as though particularly well pleased +with some thought. + +"What's the matter, Comfort?" asked Nelly. + +"Oh, nuthin'," was the answer; "I guess I'm not very miserable to-day, +that's all;" and off she went in a chuckle again. + +"Nelly," said Martin, after another grave pause, "you used to be a +better girl than you are now. Last summer, about the time Marm Lizy +died, you tried ever so hard to be good, and you improved very much +indeed." + +"I know it," said Nell, a little sadly, "and I would be good now, if +it wasn't for Melindy Porter. Ever since I've been to school I've felt +hard and wicked. She torments and worries me so, that I think sometimes +there's no use in tryin' to be good at all. I do and say wrong things, +just when I don't mean to, all along o' Melindy." + +"If you and Melindy were friends, you wouldn't feel so, would you?" + +"I s'pose not, but who wants to be friends with anybody like _that_?" +was the ready retort. + +"Still, you would rather be friends than enemies, Nell, wouldn't you? +You would prefer that this little girl"-- + +"Big one, ever so big," interrupted Nelly, quickly. + +"You would prefer that this big girl, then, should bear you no malice, +even if you didn't like her, and she didn't like you. Isn't it so?" + +"Well, yes. I would like to have her stop pinchin' and pullin' the +hairs of all o' us little ones. That's what I'd like, Martin." + +"That's easy done, Nelly," said Martin in a confident tone. + +"Easy, Martin? How easy?" + +"_Be kind to her._ Show her that you bear her no ill feeling." + +"But I _do bear her ill feeling_, Martin! What's the good of fibbing +about it to her? I can't go to her and say, 'Melindy, I like you ever +so much,' when all the time I despise her like poison, can I? I am sure +that wouldn't be right." + +"No," broke in Comfort, "that ar wouldn't be right, Martin, for +sartain." + +Martin looked a little puzzled. + +"But, Comfort," he said at length, "I don't want her to speak +pleasantly to Melindy till she _feels_ pleasantly. _That's_ the thing. +I wouldn't have Nell _act_ an untruth, a bit more than I'd have her +tell one. But I _do_ want her to try to _feel_ like givin' Melindy a +little good for her evil." + +Martin said this with such a pleading, earnest look, smiling coaxingly +on Nelly as he spoke, that, for the moment, the heart of the little +girl was softened. + +"Well, Martin," she said, "you are _always_ preachin' ar'n't you? But +it's nice preachin' and I don't hate it a bit. Some day, when I get +real, _awful_ good, you'll leave off, won't you? I'll think about +Melindy, and may-be I can screw my courage up to not mind bein' cracked +at by her." + +"Pray for them that uses yer spitefully," said Comfort with solemnity. + +Nelly seemed struck by this. + +"What, pray for Melindy?" she asked meditatingly. + +"Chil'en," said the old woman, "don't never forget that ar mighty +sayin'. Yer may be kind and such like to yer enemys, but if yer don't +take time to _pray_ for his poor ole soul's salvation, you might as +well not do nuthin'. That's the truff, the Gospil truff." + +"Well," said Nell with a deep sigh, "I'll pray for Melindy then, and +for that bad, little Johnny Williams, too, to-night when I go to bed; +but I shall have, oh, Comfort, _such_ hard work to _mean_ it, _here_!" +and her hands were pressed for an instant over her breast. + +The next morning, just as Nelly was starting for school, Martin drew +her, mysteriously, aside. + +"Which hand will you have, Nell?" he asked, holding both behind him. + +"This one," she said, eagerly, touching the right hand, in which she +had caught a side glimpse of something glittering like burnished gold. + +Martin smilingly extended towards her a small, oval box, covered with a +beautiful golden paper. + +"How very, very lovely," cried Nell, opening it. + +"It is yours," said Martin, "but only yours to give away. I want you to +do something with it." + +"Can't I keep it? Who must I give it to?" + +"Melindy!" + +"Oh, Martin, I can't, I just can't,--there!" + +"Then you don't wish to make her good, Nell! You want her to be cruel +and wicked and hard as long as she lives!" + +"Oh no, no, I don't wish that _now_. I _prayed_ for her last night." +The last sentence was added in a very low tone. + +"You refuse then?" + +She looked at him, sighed, and turned away. + +Martin put his box in his pocket, and walked off in the direction of +the barn. + +At dinner-time, Nelly came home quite radiant. Lessons had gone +smoothly. Miss Harrow had praised her for industry at her books, +"and, would you believe it, Martin," she added in an accent of high +satisfaction, "Melinda didn't make but two faces at me all the whole +morning! Wasn't that nice? They were pretty bad ones, though,--bad +enough to last! She screwed her nose all up, this way! Well, if you'll +give me the box now, I'll take it to her this afternoon. I don't feel +hard against Melindy at all, now." + +Martin brought it to her after dinner, with great alacrity; and Nell +walked very slowly to school with it in her hands, opening and shutting +the lid a dozen times along the road, and eyeing it in an admiring, +fascinated way, as though she would have no objection in the world to +retain possession of it herself. + +It was a hard effort to offer it to Melinda. So pretty a box she had +never seen before. + +"I mean to ask Martin," she thought, "if he cannot find me another just +like it." + +Near the door of Mrs. Harrow's little house, Nelly encountered her +tormentor, quite unexpectedly. She was standing outside, talking in a +loud, boisterous way to two or three of the other children. Melinda was +a tall, rather good-looking girl, of about fourteen years of age. She +was attired in a great deal of gaudy finery, but was far from being +neat or clean in appearance. At the present time, a large, freshly-torn +hole in her dress, showed that in the interval between schools, she had +been exercising her warlike propensities, and had come off, whether +victor or not, a little the worse for wear. Her quilted red silk hood +was now cocked fiercely over her eyes, in a very prophetic way. Nelly +knew from that, as soon as she saw her, that she was in a bad frame of +mind. + +Not daring to speak to her then, Nelly was quietly proceeding towards +the door of the school, when with one or two tremendous strides, +Melinda met her face to face. + +"How did you like the big thumping I gave you yesterday?" she asked, +with a grim smile. + +Nelly walked on very fast, trying to keep from saying anything at all, +in the fear that her indignation might express itself too plainly. + +"Why don't you speak up?" cried Melinda. + +Still Nelly went on in silence. Melinda walked mockingly side by side +with her, burlesquing her walk and serious face. At last, irritated +beyond control, Melinda put out suddenly one of her feet, and +deliberately tripped up her little schoolmate, who, before she could +even cry out, found herself lying flat on her nose, on the snow. + +The attack was made so abruptly, that Nelly had no time to see what +was coming. Confused, stunned, angry, and hurt, she raised herself +slowly to her knees and looked around her. There was at first, a dull, +bruised feeling, about her head, but this passed away. Something in +the deadly whiteness of her face made Melinda look a little alarmed, +as she stood leaning against the wall, ready to continue the battle, +if occasion required any efforts of the kind; but knowing well, in the +depths of her cowardly heart, that, as the largest and strongest child +at school, her victims could not, personally, revenge themselves upon +her, to any very great extent. Looking her companion in the eyes, like +a hunter keeping a wild animal at bay, Nelly staggered to her feet. +She had meant to be so good that day! And this was the encouragement +she received! Truly, the influence of Melinda on Nelly's character +was most pernicious. All the evil in her nature seemed aroused by the +association. Tears, not resulting from physical pain, but from the +great effort she still made to control her temper, rose to her eyes, +as she saw a sneering smile on Melinda's countenance. Till now she +had striven to bear Martin's advice in mind; but as this sneering +smile broke into an ill-natured laugh, Nelly's self-control gave way. +Her face burned. She tossed the little golden gift, with disdainful +roughness, at her persecutor's feet, and said, in a gruff, and by no +means conciliating voice,-- + +"There's a box for you, Melindy. And Martin says I mustn't hate you any +more. But I do, worse than ever! There!" + +Melinda gave a contemptuous snort. She walked up to the little gilt +box, set her coarse, pegged shoe upon it, and quietly ground it to +pieces. Then, without another word, she pushed open the school-room +door, entered, and banged it to again, in poor Nelly's red and angry +face. The child leaned against the house and cried quietly, but almost +despairingly. + +"I wanted to be good," she sobbed; "I wanted to be good so much, but +she will not let me!" + + + + +CHAPTER III. + +COMFORT'S NEFFY. + + +"Comfort," said Nell, that night, leaning her head on her hand, and +looking at the old woman sideways out of one eye, as she had seen the +snowbirds do when they picked up the crumbs every morning around the +kitchen door, "Comfort, can't you tell me what you were laughing about +yesterday afternoon, when you were br'iling of the fish for tea?" + +"Yes," said Comfort, "I think I can." + +Nelly sat waiting to hear the expected revelation, yet none came. +Comfort was busy with her pipe. She paused every now and then to puff +out great misty wreaths of bluish-gray smoke, but she didn't condescend +to utter one word. + +"Comfort," said Nelly, getting impatient, "why don't you tell me, then, +Comfort?" + +"Tell yer what, chile?" + +"What you said you would." + +"I never said I _would_; I said I _could_. Be more petik'lar with yer +'spressions, Nelly. And 'sides that, yer hadn't oughter say '_br'iling_ +fish.' Missus don't. Leave such words to cullu'd passons, like me." + +"Well, but tell me," persisted Nelly, smilingly, brimming with the +curiosity she could not restrain. "I know it was something good, +because you don't often laugh, Comfort." + +"No," said Comfort, "that ar's a fact. I don't 'prove of little bits +o' stingy laughs, every now and then. I likes one good guffaw and done +with it." + +"Well," said Nelly, "go on. Tell me about it." + +"Yer see," said Comfort, taking her pipe from between her lips, and +giving a sudden whirl to the smoke issuing from them, "Yer see, Nelly, +I was laughin' 'bout my neffy." + +"Your neffy, Comfort? What's that?" + +"Lor! do tell! Don't yer know what a neffy is _yet_? I didn't 'spect +yer to know much when yer was Marm Lizy's gal, but now, when Mrs. +Brooks has adopted of yer, and sent yer to school to be edicated, we +look for better things. Don't know what a neffy is, eh?" + +"No," said Nelly, looking somewhat disturbed. "Tell me, Comfort. Is it +something that grows?" + +"Grows!" screamed Comfort, bursting into a laugh that certainly was +not a stingy one; "Grows! Goodness! hear this yere chile! Ho, ho, ho! +I--b'lieve--I shall--crack my poor ole sides! Grows! Oh my!" + +"You mustn't laugh so, Comfort," said Nelly, with dignity, "you make me +feel,--well, leastways, you make me feel real bad." + +"Oh dear, dear," mumbled the old woman in a faint voice. "That does +beat all! Why, see here, Nelly,--s'pose now, I had a sister once, and +that ar sister got married and had a little boy, what ought he to call +_me_, eh?" + +"Why, his Aunt Comfort, to be sure," was the reply. + +"And I ought to call him neffy John, or Johnny, for short, oughtn't I? +Well, it was 'bout my neffy Johnny I was laughin' yesterday. Now I'll +tell yer how it was, sence I've done laughin' 'bout him to-day,--oh +my! You see, Johnny is a slave down South, ever so far off, on a rice +plantation." + +"_Slave?_" repeated Nelly, with growing interest; "what's _slave_, +Comfort?" + +"Oh, somethin' that grows," answered Comfort, chuckling. "A slave is +a black man, woman, or chile that has a marster. This _marse_, as we +call him, can sell the slave to anybody for a lot o' money, and the +poor slave, as has been a t'ilin', strivin' soul all his days, can say +nuthin' ag'in' it. It's the _law_, yer see." + +"Comfort," said Nelly, "stop a minute. Do you think that is a right +law?" + +"No," said Comfort, "I can't say as I does. Some marsters are good, and +some, on the contrary, are oncommon bad. Now my little neffy has a good +'un. Ever sence his poor mammy's death, I've been savin' and savin', +and t'ilin' and t'ilin', to buy Johnny and bring him North, 'cause I +set a good deal on him. This ere good marse of his agreed to let me buy +him, when he was nuffin' but a baby; and he's been keepin' of him for +me all this yere long time." + +"I'm glad I'm not Johnny," said Nell, earnestly; "If bein' a slave is +getting bought and sold like a cow or a dog, a slave is just what I +don't want to be. Hasn't Johnny any relations down there, Comfort?" + +The old woman shook her head. + +"I'm the only one of his kin in the 'varsel world." + +"Poor little fellow!" said Nelly meditating; "I don't wonder you want +to buy him. How old is he?" + +"Twelve year." + +"And you've got enough money, Comfort?" + +A bright smile beamed suddenly all over that dark face. + +"Ho!" she cried, "that ar's just what I was laughin' at yesterday. +I want only a leetle more, and 'deed, my neffy will have no marse +ag'in,--only a missus, and that'll be _me_, thank the Lord!" + +The old colored woman tossed her apron over her head, and from the odd +puffing noises that immediately began to sound from behind it, Nelly +supposed she was weeping. She thought she must have been mistaken, +however, the next moment, for Comfort pulled down the apron a little +savagely, as though ashamed of having indulged in such a luxury as a +private groan or two, and in a stern voice bade Nelly go up in her +(Comfort's) room, feel under the bolster, on the side nearest the wall, +and bring down to her the foot of a stocking which she would find there. + +"And don't let the grass grow under yer feet, neither," said Comfort, +by way of a parting benediction, as the child softly closed the door. +It was reopened almost immediately, and Nelly's smiling face appeared. + +"I say, Comfort." + +"Well chile, what now?" + +"I'm real, _real_ sorry for that little neffy of yours you've been +tellin' me about. And, Comfort, when he comes I'll be as good to him +as I can. I was thinkin' I would knit a pair of gray, woollen stockings +to have ready for him, shall I? How big is he?" + +"'Bout your size," replied Comfort. "The notion of them stockings is +quite nice. I'm much obleeged to yer, Nelly." + +Nelly looked delighted, and started to go up-stairs once more. In about +a minute and a half, her face was peering into the kitchen again. + +"Comfort, I guess I'll knit a red binding at the top of the stockings, +to look handsome, shall I?" + +"Why, yes," said Comfort, mightily pleased; "that will make 'em smart, +won't it?" + +"A red yarn binding," continued the little girl, "knit on after the +stocking is toed off,--a binding full of little scallops and such like!" + +"Laws, chile," said Comfort, benignantly, "I sorter think yer might +stop short of them scallops. Neffy won't be anxious about scallops, I +reckon, seein' as how he has only wored nater's stockings so far, with +no petik'lar bindin' at all, that I knows on. Come, now, mind yerself +and run up-stairs. I can't be wastin' all my time, a-waitin'." + +Nelly shut the door, and went singing up-stairs, two at once, while the +old woman employed her valuable time in smoking her pipe. + +In a short time eager, young footsteps were heard dancing along the +entry, and into the room came Nelly, looking as happy as though for her +there existed no ill-natured schoolmate in all the world. + +"Here it is!" she said, holding triumphantly up the foot of an old +stocking, ragged at the edges, but scrupulously clean,--the same in +fact, from which Comfort had once given her a small gift of money; +"here it is, Comfort; but didn't I have a powerful hunt for it! I +dived under the bolster and under the mattrass,--at the foot,--at +the head,--at the sides,--and then I found it on the sacking. Hear +how it jingles! What fun it must be to earn money, Comfort! Do look +at my hair,--if I haven't got it full of feathers, poking among your +pillows!" Sure enough, starting up all over her curls were gray and +white downy particles. + +"Laws sakes," exclaimed Comfort, helping her to pick them off, "that +ar hole must a broke loose ag'in in my bolster! I can sew it up every +Saturday night, and sure as I'm livin', it bursts ag'in Monday mornin'." + +"That's 'cause your brain is too heavy; you've got too many thoughts in +it, perhaps," laughed Martin, who entered at that moment, and began to +stamp the snow from his feet on the kitchen doormat. + +"O Martin," cried Nell, "see how rich Comfort is! She has saved that +fat stocking full of money, to buy her neffy." + +"Buy her neffy!" repeated Martin, unbuttoning his overcoat. + +"Yes, he's a slave, you know." + +"No," said the boy, "I don't know, Nelly; I never even heard of neffy +before." + +"Oh, his _name_ isn't neffy, Martin. Oh, no, not at all," said the +little girl, with an air of importance. "He is called John, and Comfort +is going to buy him, and I am to begin a pair of stockings for him +to-morrow." + +Comfort held up her bag half full. + +"This yere is my money-box," she said, overflowing with satisfaction. + +"_Box!_" repeated Nell. "Why, it is not a _box_ at all, Comfort. It's +the foot of a worn-out stocking." + +The old woman turned upon her a little grimly, "Stockin' or no stockin' +I _calls_ it my money-box, and that's enough. Box it is." + +"That's funny," said Nelly; "I don't see much good in calling a +stocking a box as long as it is a stocking." + +"Well, I does," said Comfort, sharply; and with some of the old +ill-temper she once used to vent so largely on Nell, she snatched up +the bag, and giving it a toss upon a pantry shelf, slammed the door +with a mighty noise. + +For a little while silence descended on the group. It was an +uncomfortable silence. No one in the room felt happy or at ease. Of +such power is a single ill-natured expression! + +Comfort was restless, because her conscience reproached her, while +at the same time Nelly was experiencing secret remorse for having +irritated her by thoughtless words. Perhaps Martin Wray was more +distressed than either of his companions, at what had taken place. His +was naturally a peaceable disposition, and he could not bear to witness +scenes of discord. The sight of his pleasant face saddened, did not +tend to make little Nell feel happier. She longed to have him reprove +her, or exhort her, as he so often did, to better behavior; but Martin +sat in his chair by the fire, sorrowful and mute. + +Nothing was heard but the hissing of the burning wood on the wide +hearth, and the whistling sounds and muffled roars of the wind without. + +It was too much to bear this any longer. Nelly got up with a long, +penitent face, and hovered rather wistfully around the chair where +Comfort sat, still smoking her pipe. The old domestic had taken +advantage of the fact of her eyes being half closed, to pretend that +she did not see the little figure standing at her side, on account of +just going off into a most delightful doze. She even went so far as +to get up a gentle, extempore fit of snoring, but Nelly was not to be +deceived. + +"Comfort," she said, in a mild, quiet voice. + +No answer, excepting three exceedingly distinct snores. + +"Com_fort_," was repeated, in a louder tone. + +"WHAT!!" growled the old woman, opening her eyes so suddenly +that the child started back. Comfort began to laugh, however, so Nell +felt no fear of having disturbed her in reality. + +"I am sorry I said that wasn't your money-box, Comfort. I didn't mean +to contradict, or such like. It was all along o' my contrary temper, +and if you'll forgive me, I'll try not to act so again." + +The old colored woman appeared a little confused. + +"'Deed, honey," she said, "yer haven't done nuthin' wrong; it's all +_me_. I dunno what gits into me sometimes. Well, now, hand me that ar +plaguey stocking, and I'll let you and Martin count my money." + +Nelly smiled, looked delighted at being restored to favor, and flew to +the pantry. + +The bag was on too high a shelf for her to reach, however, and she had +got the poker and was in the act of violently punching and hooking it +down, as she best could, her eyes and cheeks bright with the exertion, +when Martin--the sadness quite gone from his face--advanced to help +her. Comfort took the bag from him, and with a grand flourish, +emptied it on the vacant table. The flourish was a little _too_ grand, +however, and much more effective than Comfort had intended. The shining +silver dollars, with which the stocking was partially filled, fell +helter-skelter on the table, and many of them rolled jingling and +glittering over the floor. + +Nelly laughed and scrambled after them, Martin shouted and tumbled down +on hands and knees to help find them, while the owner, quite dismayed, +stood still and did nothing. + +"'Deed, 'deed!" she said; "how could I be so keerless? But there's +thirty of 'em, and thirty I'll find." + +Before the children knew what she was about, she seized the broom and +began to sweep the rag-carpet with great nervous dashes, that had no +other effect than to raise a tremendous dust. + +[Illustration: "Comfort relinquished the broom at this, and began to +count." Page 69] + +"Stop!" cried Martin; "don't sweep, please, Comfort; Nelly and I will +find them for you. That dust just goes into our eyes and blinds us. If +you are sure there were thirty, it is easy enough to search till we +make up the number." + +Comfort relinquished the broom at this, and began to count; as fast as +the children found any of the coins they dropped them into her lap. + +"Twenty-six, twenty-seven," she said, at length; "three more, and we've +got all the little shiners back." + +"Here's two," cried Martin, "behind the dust-pan." + +"And here's the thirtieth," exclaimed Nelly, "sticking out from under +your shoe, Comfort! How funny!" + +And so, laughing, the children saw Comfort's money-box bulge again to +its original size. + +"That ar's only my last five months' wages. Mrs. Brooks paid me +yesterday," said the old woman, proudly, as she tied the stocking +together with a piece of yellow, time-stained tape. "I've got three +hundred jes' like 'em in a bank in the city; and when with a little +extry t'ilin' and savin', I git in all, three hundred and fifty, my +neffy will never be a slave no more!" + +Here the kind voice of Mrs. Brooks was heard calling the children into +the sitting-room. + +"Good-night, Comfort," said Martin; "I wish _I_ had thirty dollars; yet +I do not envy you yours, one bit,--no, not one bit!" + +"Yes," added Nell, rising to go, "and _I_ don't envy either, but I +wouldn't mind owning another stocking just like that. And, Comfort, I +am going to ask mother to let me set all the eggs of my white bantam +hen, early in the spring; and I'll _sell_ the chickens and give you the +money to help buy your neffy." + + + + +CHAPTER IV. + +"LET'S MAKE FRIENDS!" + + +The beams of the afternoon sun streamed gayly through the windows of +Miss Harrow's school-room, and fell, like a crown of light, on the head +of the young teacher, as she sat at her desk making copies for her +pupils. It was writing afternoon, and on this particular occasion, that +which was considered a high reward was to be given to the most diligent +child. + +Whoever showed the greatest interest, neatness and industry, was to +be allowed to remain for a few hours after the closing of the school, +in order to make a wreath of evergreen to decorate a certain picture +in Miss Elinor's apartment. The Christmas holidays were near, and the +little school-room had already received, at the willing hands of the +children, a thorough dressing with laurel, pine, and hemlock-boughs. +It had been for a week past the great delight of the pupils to weave, +after school-hours, festoons for the whitewashed walls, and garlands +for Miss Milly's desk. + +Many were the regrets that the work was now almost over. + +Miss Elinor's gentle ways had, from the first, made her a great +favorite. There were never any rebellions, any doubtful conduct, in the +few classes she undertook to hear recite in her sick-room. Her very +infirmity endeared her to the hearts of her scholars. + +This wreath for an engraving that hung at the foot of her bed, was the +only Christmas-green Elinor desired to have placed in her apartment, +and on that account, as well as from devotion to her personally, many +pairs of little hands were eager to achieve the honor of the task. Very +patient, therefore, were their youthful owners with their writing, this +afternoon,--very exact were they to cross the t's, dot the i's, and +avoid pens, as Melinda expressed it, "that scratched like sixty." + +Miss Milly had done very wisely in holding out this reward, for never +before had such attention and such care been visible in the class. +Nelly sat at her high desk, as busy and as excited to win as any child +there. Her copy-book lay before her, and though she had not as yet +reached beyond "pot-hooks and trammels," she was quite as likely to +come off victor as those who wrote with ease and accuracy, because it +was not a question of penmanship, but of neatness and industry, as I +have already said; for the first quality, the books themselves were to +speak; and Miss Milly's watchful eyes were the judges of the latter, +as, from time to time, she raised them from her own writing and scanned +the little group. + +Scratch, scratch, scratch went the pens, and papers rustled, and +fingers flew about their work till the hour being up, Miss Milly rang +her bell as a signal for perfect silence. + +"It is time to put away your pens, children," she said, in a clear +voice; and at once they were laid aside. + +Nelly was just placing her blotting paper between the leaves of her +writing-book, when a sorrowful exclamation near her made her turn her +head. This exclamation came from Melinda, who sat a few benches off. +Her eyes were fixed with a look of most profound distress on a large +blot which a drop of ink from her pen had just left in the centre of +the day's copy. Her sleeve had accidentally swept over it too,--and +there it was, a great, black disfigurement! And on this afternoon of +all others! Melinda wrote a very pretty hand. She was an ambitious +girl, and had done her very best, that she might win the prize. +Nelly saw the tears rise in her eyes, and her cheeks flush with the +bitterness of her disappointment. + +"Oh, dear!" cried Lucy Rook, a little girl, who sat next; "Oh, dear! +there's a blot, Melindy!" + +"Yes," was the answer; "I wonder if I could scratch it out, so that the +page will look neatly again. Lucy, lend me your knife, will you?" + +Mistress Lucy looked straight at Melinda, and laughed a little cruel, +mocking laugh. In the rattle of papers and temporary confusion of the +room, she thought herself unheard by the teacher. + +"Who wouldn't play tag, yesterday, eh?" asked Lucy. "Who spoiled the +game; did you hear anybody say?" + +"Why, I did, I s'pose," spoke Melinda roughly; "and what of it?" + +"I guess I want my knife, myself, that's all," was Lucy's reply. "I +don't think I could conclude to lend it to-day," and she laughed again. + +Nelly involuntarily put her hand in her pocket, where lay a little +penknife Nancy had given her, as a keepsake, a few weeks before. The +thought flashed through her mind, "Shall I, or shall I not?" and the +next moment she reached over, and the little knife was glittering +on Melinda's blotted copy. She did not speak; she only blushed, and +smiled, and nodded pleasantly, to show her good-will. Melinda looked at +her with a frowning brow. Then a better impulse seemed to prevail; she +glanced gratefully back at Nelly, and taking up the penknife began to +give some doleful scratches over the blot. + +Presently, however, Miss Milly's command was heard from the desk: + +"All arms to be folded!" Melinda, with a sigh, folded hers, and sat +like a picture of despair. The books were then collected, and examined +carefully, while the scholars began to prepare to go home. Nelly was +quite ready, when she was startled by hearing Miss Milly pronounce her +name to the school as the winner of the prize. + +"I find," said Miss Harrow, "that almost every child has taken unusual +pains to-day, in writing; and I am pleased to see it, I can assure you. +Where all have been so careful, it is very difficult to find one who +stands highest; Nelly Box, however, I think deserves the reward. Never, +before, has she evinced such diligence and patience; hoping that she +will always do as well in future, I give her permission to go up to +Miss Elinor's room to begin the wreath, at once. Elinor will give you +instructions, Nelly, and perhaps tell you some little story while you +are busy with your task." + +At first Nelly's face shone with delighted triumph, at the news of +her success. But in a little while she began to realize that many +of the pupils were sorely disappointed at this award not falling on +themselves, and the thought dampened her ardor. She had reached the +door to leave the room, when Miss Milly added: + +"Melinda, I am glad to see that you, too, have been attentive and +anxious to do well. If it were not for this huge blot, I should have +given the palm to you." + +"I couldn't help it," said Melinda, eagerly. "I was just folding it up, +when it happened. I am as sorry as can be." + +"Are you?" said Miss Milly, kindly. + +"Yes," broke in Nelly, with honest warmth; "and it was an--an +_accident_, as I think they call it, Miss Milly. The girls who saw it, +say so. The ink just dropped right down, _ker-splash_." + +Melinda held down her head and looked conscious. + +"Well, then," said the good teacher, smiling at the "_ker-splash_," "if +it was an accident, I think we will have _two_ wreath-makers, instead +of one. Melinda may go up-stairs with Nelly, if she wishes, and both +are to be very quiet and orderly, for Miss Elinor is not quite as well +as usual, to-day." + +Melinda glanced towards Nelly, and was silent. She did not like to go, +under such circumstances as these. She wished the honor of making the +wreath, it is true, but she did not desire that distinction to be +bestowed upon her as _a favor_. She felt galled too, that this very +favor was accorded to her through Nelly Box's means,--little Nelly, +whom, every day, she had been in the habit of cuffing about as though +she were an animal of totally inferior condition. She happened to raise +her eyes, however, and they fell on the glad, beaming face of this same +Nelly Box, who stood waiting for her. It was so evident that Nelly's +good-will towards her was sincere, it was so plain that this little +schoolmate of hers desired to be friends with her, and to forget and +forgive all the unpleasantness of the past, that Melinda could not +resist the good impulse which impelled her onward. A feeling of shame +and awkwardness was all that hindered her from accompanying Nelly +up-stairs at once. She stood looking very foolish, her glance on the +floor, and her fingers twitching at the upturned corner of her apron. + +"Come, Melinda," said Miss Milly, in a gentle, but brisk tone; "don't +keep Nelly waiting." + +The young girl could resist no longer. She smiled, in spite of +herself, a great, ear-to-ear, bashful, happy, half-ashamed smile, and +followed Nelly slowly up-stairs to Miss Elinor's room, where they +found her bolstered up in bed, as usual, and quite ready to give them +instructions how to form her wreath. A sheet was already spread in the +middle of the floor, and on this was a pile of evergreens. + +"What, _two_!" said Miss Elinor, smiling, as they entered. "I am glad +to see you both, although I expected but one. How is your mother, +Melinda?" + +"Better, ma'am," said Melinda; "she is coming to see you next week, if +she is well enough. What shall we do first, Miss Elinor?" + +The sick girl told the children how to begin, and, half sitting up +in bed as she was, showed them how to tie together the fragments of +evergreen with strings, so as to form the wreath. At first, the girls +thought it hard work enough. The little sprays of hemlock would stand +up, as Nelly termed it, "seven ways for Sunday," and all they could do +did not bring them into shape. + +Miss Elinor could not help them much more than to give directions. She +lay looking at them from her bed, half amused, and entirely interested +in the proceedings. + +"Dear, dear!" said Melinda, after she had endeavored several times, +quite patiently for her, to force a sprig to keep its place; "dear me, +I don't think we can ever make this 'ere wreath look like anything but +father's stump fences. Just see how that hemlock sticks out!" + +"Well," said Miss Elinor, "I like to see stump fences, very much +indeed, Melinda. I think they are beautiful. The great roots look like +the hands of giants, with the fingers stretched out to grasp something. +So you see, I don't mind if you make my wreath look like them." + +"Father says stump fences are the very best kind," remarked Melinda, +knowingly. + +"I guess not the _very best_, Melindy," Nell ventured to say. + +"Yes, they are," persisted Melinda, with a toss of her head; "father +says they last _forever_,--and he _knows_, for he has tried 'em!" + +The young teacher smiled, and turned away her head. + +"Did you ever see a church dressed with evergreens, Miss Elinor?" asked +one of the children. + +"Often," said the sick girl; "not here, in the village, but in the +city. I have not been able to attend church much since we have been +here. They entwine garlands around the high pillars, and put wreaths of +laurel over the arched windows. The reading-desk and pulpit have their +share too, and above the altar is placed a beautiful cross. Sometimes +the font is filled with delicate white flowers, that are renewed each +Sabbath as long as the evergreens are permitted to remain." + +"I wish I could see a church looking like that," remarked Nelly, +stopping in her work, and looking meditatively about her. + +"Miss Elinor," said Melinda, "what do they mean when they say 'as poor +as a church-mouse?' Why are _church_-mice poorer than house-mice?" + +"Because," was the reply, "in churches there are no nice pantries, +filled with bread and meat, for the little plagues to feed upon. No +stray crumbs lie on the floor,--no pans of milk are to be found at +which to sip. So, you see, church-mice _have_ a right to be considered +poor." + +"Well," said Melinda, "how funny! I never thought of that before." + +"Once," continued her teacher, "I saw an odd scene with a church-mouse. +I'll tell you about it. I was visiting in the country, a great many +miles from here; such a kind of country as you can have but a faint +idea of, unless you should see it yourself. It was out West. The houses +there are not like those you have always been accustomed to see, but +are built of the trunks of trees. They are called log cabins. The gaps, +or holes, between these logs are filled with mud and moss, which keep +out the rain in summer, and the wind and snow in winter." + +"What do they do for windows?" asked Nell. + +"Some of them have none,--others make an opening in the logs; a small +shutter, hinged with stout leather, is its only protection in time +of storms. Glass is too expensive to be used, for the people are very +poor. Well, I was visiting once a family who lived in one of these log +huts. It was somewhat better than its neighbors, certainly, and much +larger, but it was not half as comfortable as the little house we are +in. It was in October, and I remember as I lay awake in bed, at night, +I felt the autumn wind whistle over me. It makes my nose cold to think +of it," laughed Elinor. "When Sunday came, I was surprised to find +that, although the church was five miles distant, no one thought of +staying at home. + +"'What!' said my uncle, 'do you think, Elinor, we are short-walk +Christians? No indeed,--five miles through the woods is nothing to us +when a good, sound sermon, and a couple of beautiful hymns are at the +end of it!'" + +"It was your uncle, then, you were visiting?" questioned Melinda. + +"Yes; he had moved out West some years before, bought a farm, and built +himself a log cabin. He lives there now, and is fast making a fortune." + +"Is he?" said Nell. "Did you go to the church, Miss Elinor, in the +woods?" + +"Yes; no one stayed at home. We had the dinner-table set before we +started, which was early, on account of the distance. I think it was +about half past eight o'clock in the morning (for we did not want to +hurry), when uncle shut the cabin door, and saw that everything was +right." + +"Didn't you lock it?" asked Melinda. + +"Lock what?" + +"The door." + +"No. Not a man, woman, or child thinks of locking doors, out in that +wild country. Thieves don't seem to be found there, and everybody +trusts his neighbor. If a tramper comes along, he is welcome to go in +and help himself to whatever he wants. It is not an unusual thing on +reaching home, after an absence of an hour or so, to find a poor, tired +traveller, asleep in his chair, before the fire. Besides," said Miss +Elinor, with a twinkle in her eyes, "there is another excellent reason +why the farmers out there never think of locking their doors." + +"Oh, I know!" cried Melinda; "I know!" + +"Well, why is it?" + +"They have no locks!" And the two children began to laugh as if they +had never heard anything so funny in all their lives. + +"I like that," said Nell; "I want to live in just such an honest +country, and where they are good to poor travellers, too. That's the +splendid part. I feel as if I wanted to settle there, this very minute. +Well, Miss Elinor, don't forget about going to church." + +"We got off the track so, I had nearly forgotten what my story is +about," said Miss Elinor. "We started very early to go to church. +Uncle had no wagon, so driving was out of the question; but he had a +beautiful mare called 'Lady Lightfoot,' and an old side-saddle, which +my aunt had owned ever since she was a girl. It was settled that my +aunt and I were to take turns riding on Lady Lightfoot, so that +neither should get too fatigued. Uncle and cousin Robert were to walk, +and Lightfoot's pretty little long-legged colt ambled in the rear. +My aunt took the first ride, and I was talking quietly to uncle and +Robert, when I saw, bounding along a rail fence at the side of the +road, the old fat cat, Wildfire. Her name just suited her, for she was +one of the most restless, proud, affectionate, daring cats I had ever +seen. + +"'Why!' I exclaimed; 'see Wildfire on the fence! she will get lost,--we +must send her home.' + +"'Lost, eh?' said Cousin Robert; 'I reckon not. If any one can lose +Wildfire, I'll give him a treat in the strawberry patch next summer, +and no mistake.' + +"'But what shall we do?' I asked; 'we don't want her to go to church +with us. Make her go home, Robert, do.' + +"'Not a bit of it,' said Robert, laughing; 'did you never see a cat go +to meeting before? Wildfire has attended regularly, every summer, for +the last three years. She always follows us. The minister would not +know how to preach without her.' + +"'But,' said I, 'how it must look! a cat in church! A dog would not be +so bad. But a cat! Go home, Wildfire!' and I took off my red shawl and +shook it at her, and stamped my foot. + +"Robert laughed again, and told me it was no use; that they had often +tried to send her back, and sometimes had fastened her up, but that +she almost always broke loose, and would come bounding after them, +kicking her heels in the air, as though to show her utter defiance +of any will but her own. When I shook my shawl at her, she just rose +quietly up on her hind legs, and while her green eyes darted flames of +anger, she ruffled her fur as cats do when attacked by dogs, indicating +as plainly as possible that go she would; and go, indeed, she did. +Robert saw I was mortified at the thought of walking to meeting in +company with a cat, and he told me I needn't be ashamed, because the +churches out there were vastly different from those I had been in the +habit of attending. 'Women,' said he, 'who can't afford them, come +without hats, and men, on hot days, walk up to their seats in their +shirt-sleeves, with their house-dogs tagging after them. I counted ten +dogs in meeting once. The animals seem to understand the necessity for +good behavior, for they are as quiet as their masters; perhaps more so, +sometimes. They lie down under the seats of their friends, and go to +sleep, only opening their eyes and mouths now and then to snap at some +flies, buzzing around their noses. Wildfire does the same. Our bench is +near the door, and we could easily put her out if she did not behave +as becomes a good, well-reared cat. If people didn't _know_ that she +followed us each Sunday, they would never find it out from her behavior +in meeting-time.' + +"Seeing there was no help for it, and understanding there was no fear +of mortification, I dismissed the thought of Wildfire from my mind. +Shortly afterwards, my aunt dismounted to give me my turn. Cousin +Robert helped me on, handed me the lines, and gently touching Lady +Lightfoot with my twig-whip, I began to trot a little away from the +party. The road was magnificent. None, my dear children, in our village +can compare with it. The earth was smooth and hard, and but very little +broken by wheels. Something in the character of the soil kept it +generally in this condition. We had just entered the woods. Overhead +the stately branches of old trees met and laced themselves together. +It was like one long arbor. Scarcely any sunshine came through on the +road, and when it did, the little wavy streaks looked like threads +of gold. The morning was mild and cool, almost too cool for the few +autumn birds that twittered their cheerful songs far and near. I was +enjoying myself very much, when, suddenly, I heard a snorting noise +just beside me. I could not imagine what it was. I looked down, and +there--what do you think I saw?" + +"Wildfire!" cried the two children. + +"Yes, it was Wildfire, on the full trot, snorting at me her delight in +the race. I slackened my pace, and the cat and I walked peaceably all +the rest of the way to the meeting-house. + +"When we arrived there, I was as much surprised as amused at the scene +which presented itself. The church was a nice, neatly-painted building, +in the midst of a small clearing." + +"Clearing?" said Nell. + +"A clearing is a piece of ground from which the trees have been +removed. One or two young oaks, however, were left in this instance, +to serve as hitching posts, if any should be required, which was very +seldom the case. + +"Many of the farmers of the vicinity had arrived when we got there. +They had unharnessed their animals and left them to graze around the +meeting-house, a young colt accompanying almost every turn-out. At the +first glance I thought the spot was full of colts, such a frisking and +whisking was going on around the entrance. One impertinent little thing +even went so far as to poke its head in the door-way and take a survey +of the congregation. + +"Some of the families who attended there, came from ten to fifteen +miles,--for the country was by no means thickly settled. A large +dinner-basket, nicely packed under the wagon-seat, showed which these +families were. + +"All the people were more or less roughly dressed; none were attired in +a way that looked like absolute poverty. + +"Cousin Robert aided me to dismount, left Lady Lightfoot and her colt +free to graze with the other animals, and with aunt and uncle we went +in the church. The walls were plaster, with no lime or wood-work to +improve their appearance. Behind a pine desk at one end of the room sat +the minister. A bunch of white pond-lilies, which some one had just +given him, rested beside the Bible lying before him." + +"And Wildfire,--where was Wildfire?" asked Nelly, with great eagerness. + +"She followed us in, very demurely, and the moment that her favorite, +Robert, sat down, she curled herself in a round, soft ball at his feet, +and went to sleep. I was soon so interested in the sermon that I forgot +all about her. The minister's text seemed to have been suggested by +his flowers. It was 'Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow; +they toil not, neither do they spin; and yet, I say unto you, that even +Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these. Wherefore, +if God so clothe the grass of the field, which to-day is, and to-morrow +is cast into the oven, shall he not much more clothe you, O ye of +little faith?' The sermon was not well delivered, because of the lack +of knowledge in the preacher, but it was pure and sound, and full of +a true, tender, and loving regard for the welfare of that people in +the wilderness. The heartiness with which all present joined in the +closing hymn, proved that the effect of the discourse was a good one +on the congregation. Just as the last note died away, my attention was +suddenly attracted to a little moving object near the door. I looked +twice before I could realize that it was a mouse. It peered about with +its pretty, bright eyes, as if it were too frightened and bewildered +to know what to do next. It was a little thing, and must have strayed +unknowingly away from its companions. + +"From a slow, stealthy sound, that came all at once from Cousin +Robert's feet, I knew that Wildfire had seen it too, and was preparing +an attack. The minister was pronouncing the final benediction, however, +and I did not dare to look around, for fear of attracting attention. +Scarcely was the closing word uttered, when there was a sudden spring +from the cat, and a shrill squeak on mousey's part. Proudly lashing her +tail, like a panther, Wildfire laid her victim, in an instant, dead +at her young master's feet, (we sat very near the door, I believe I +told you,) gazing in his face with such an air of triumph, and such an +anxious request for praise in her glittering eyes, that cousin Robert, +very thoughtlessly, as it seemed to me, stooped and patted her head." + +"Did she eat it?" asked Melinda. + +"No," replied the sick girl; "she left it lying there, on the floor, +and followed us unconcernedly out, as if there were not such a thing as +a mouse in the world. She had no desire to be left behind." + +"Perhaps," said Melinda, "as it was a church-mouse, she thought it too +poor to eat. I wish I had such a cat as Wildfire, Miss Elinor." + +"And so do I," cried Nelly. "I'll teach my cat, Nancy, to be knowing, +just like her. Look at the wreath, Miss Elinor! Hasn't it grown +handsome while you were telling about Wildfire? It don't seem a bit +like a stump fence now, does it?" + +It was, indeed, very beautiful. Miss Elinor raised herself on her elbow +and said so, as she looked at it. All that it wanted now, she told +them, was a few scissors clips on the ends of the longest sprays, to +make them even with the others. + +Melinda leaned it against the wall, and clipped away with great care +and precision. Nelly stood gazing at it lovingly and admiringly. + +Before the children were quite ready to go home, Miss Milly came in and +hung the precious wreath on a couple of nails which she drove for that +purpose, over the picture, for which it was intended. It represented a +little bare-footed gypsy-girl dancing a wild, fantastic dance, with her +brown arms flung gracefully out, and mischief and innocent fun gleaming +in her black eyes. + +"Of all the engravings I have ever seen," said Miss Elinor, "this one +is the best calculated for an evergreen frame. Thank you, dears, for +making it. I hope each of you will pass a merry Christmas and a happy +New Year." + +As the two children went down the stairs together, Nelly said, + +"Isn't she good, Melindy?" + +Melinda was not accustomed to behave herself for so great a length of +time; her stock of good conduct was now pretty nearly exhausted, so she +answered rather sharply, + +"Of course she is. I know that as well as you, without bein' told." + +Nelly felt something choking her in her throat. + +"_I will not_," she said firmly to herself, "I will not answer back. +I'll do as Martin says, and make a friend of Melindy, if I can. She +isn't so very bad, after all. Why, I do believe I rather like her." + +They gathered their books together in the school-room. Melinda opened +the door first, to go. + +"Well, good-bye," she said, gruffly, looking back at Nell. + +"Good-bye," replied Nelly; and then she added, bravely, "Oh, Melindy, +we needn't quarrel any more, need we? _I_ don't wish to, do you? Let us +be friends; come, shake hands." + +Melinda turned very red, indeed. + +"I am not going to be forced to make friends with any one," she said, +in a most forbidding voice. + +She gave the school-door a terrific bang as she spoke, and darted off +homeward. + +But in that last rough action the final trace of the ill-will she bore +Nelly disappeared forever. + +The next morning, as the family were sitting at breakfast, there came a +knock at the door. Comfort, hastily setting her dress to rights, went +to answer it. There stood Melinda, her school-books in one hand, and in +the other, two of the biggest and roundest and reddest apples she had +been able to find in all her father's bins. + +"Give them to Nelly, if you please," she said. + +"And I declar'," added Comfort, when she came in and told the family, +"the minit she spoke that ar' she ran off frightened like, and in a +mos' drefful hurry." + +From that day Melinda and Nelly were friends. + + + + +CHAPTER V. + +CHICKENS AND "POETRY." + + +Spring came again, and deepened slowly towards the summer. Leaves +budded on the trees, herbs sprouted from the warm earth, and birds sang +in all the hedges. + +"I am _so_ glad!" said Nelly; "for I love the spring sunshine, and all +the pleasant things that come with it." + +When the weather grew mild, Nelly was as good as her word about raising +chickens for the benefit of Comfort's nephew, the little slave. The +eggs of the favorite hen were carefully put aside to accumulate, and +as soon as she had done laying, and went about the barnyard clucking, +with her feathers ruffled and her wings drooping, Nelly knew, with joy, +that it was time to set her. So she filled the same nest in which the +eggs had been laid, with clean, fresh straw, and placed them in it, +ready for the bantam when Martin could catch her to put her on. They +found that the hen needed no coaxing, but settled herself at once in +the well-filled nest, giving at the same time an occasional cluck of +high satisfaction. In three weeks from that time she came off with +eleven chicks,--all safe and well. When she was put in her coop, under +the big apple-tree by the fence, Nelly fed her with moistened Indian +meal, every day. She thought it a pretty sight, when biddy minced up +the food for her babies, and taught them how to drink out of the +flower-pot saucer of water that stood within her reach. + +Nelly seemed never to get tired of looking at her little snow-white +pets. She felt that they were her own, and therefore she took a double +interest in them. + +When she was home from school, and lessons were studied for the next +morning, she would go out to the apple-tree, and sit on the clean +grass an hour or two, to watch every movement of the brood, and the +solicitude of the caged mother when her offspring wandered too far +away. One day in particular, as she sat there, the child's thoughts +were busy with the future; her imagination pictured the time when +full-grown, and more beautiful than any others, as she thought they +were sure to become, her eleven chickens were to be sent to market. + +"I hope," she said half aloud; "I hope they will bring a good price, +for Comfort's sake; I should not like to offer her anything less than +five dollars. That is very little, I think, compared to all the trouble +I have had night and morning to feed and take care of them." + +She stopped a moment, and heaved a deep sigh, as she saw the little +yellow dots flit back and forth through the long grass, some of them +running now and then to nestle lovingly under the wings of the mother. + +"Oh dear!" she went on; "I do believe I am getting to love my hen and +chickens too much to part with them; every day I think more and more +of them, and all the while they grow prettier and sweeter and tamer. +I wish I could keep them and have the money too! Dear little chickies! +Oh, Comfort, Comfort!" + +She pronounced the last two words so ruefully, that her mother, who was +passing along the garden-path, near the apple-tree, called out,-- + +"Well, Nelly dear, what is the matter with your precious Comfort, eh? +Has she met any great misfortune?" + +"No, ma'am," said Nelly; "I was only talking to myself about how hard +it would be to sell the little chickens, even for dear Comfort's sake, +when I love them so." + +Mrs. Brooks drew near. + +"Well, my child, that is a dilemma I have not thought of before. +Perhaps, who knows, something will turn up to keep your darlings +nearer home. When autumn comes, if I feel desperately in want of +bantams, I may purchase your brood myself,--but I will not promise +about it. In the meantime, don't get to loving them too much; and +remember, that if you told Comfort you would give her the money, you +must keep your word." + +"Yes," said Nell, with another sigh; "there is just my trouble; I want +to be honorable to Comfort, and kind to myself too." + +Mrs. Brooks passed on. She went into a little vegetable garden beyond, +found what she wanted, and came back. + +She paused again, and with the little girl, looked at the chickens. + +"Nelly," she said, "it has just struck me that you have been a great +deal in the kitchen with Comfort, lately, of evenings. Now, though I +respect and love Comfort for many things, I want you to stay more with +your father, and Martin, and myself, in the sitting-room." + +"What?" Nelly cried, in innocent wonder; "isn't Comfort good any +longer?" + +Mrs. Brooks smiled. + +"Yes, dear, Comfort's as good as ever. She tries to do her duty, and +is a faithful old creature. She has many excellent qualities, but she +is not educated nor refined, as I hope one day _you_ will be. You are +too young to be exposed to her influence constantly, proper as it may +be in most respects. I want you to fill a different rank in life from +Comfort's, Nelly." + +Tears were in Nelly's eyes as she answered gravely, + +"Yes, ma'am." + +"Comfort is a servant, and you are my little daughter. I want you to be +diligent, and cultivate a love of books. If you grow up in ignorance, +you can never be esteemed a lady, even if you were as rich as an +empress. I will give you the credit to say that you have improved very +much since you have been with me, both in your conduct and in the +language you use." + +"Comfort told me I mustn't say 'br'iling fish,' as she did, because +_you_ did not! _That_ was kind of her, wasn't it?" + +Mrs. Brooks felt her eyes moisten at this unexpected remark, more, +perhaps, at the tone than at the words themselves. She saw that Nelly +was deeply attached to Comfort, and she felt almost that she was wrong +in seeking to withdraw the child from the grotesque attraction she had +lately seemed to feel for her society. But duty was duty, and she was +firm. + +She stooped and imprinted a light kiss on Nelly's cheek. + +"Yes," she said, "Comfort is very kind to you. But I do not wish you to +spend more time with her when you are out of school than you do with +the rest of the family. Remember not to hurt her feelings by repeating +to her this conversation." + +"Yes, ma'am," said Nelly; and then she added, "Comfort was going to +show me how to write poetry, to-night, when she got through with her +work. Couldn't I go in the kitchen for this one evening?" + +"Comfort--teach--poetry?" echoed Mrs. Brooks, with some dismay and +amusement. + +"Yes, ma'am." + +"Well,--yes,--you may stay in the kitchen, if you like, for this once. +Certainly, I have no objection to your learning to write poetry," and +she walked away, laughing quietly. + +Surely enough, when night fell, and Comfort, radiant in a showy, new, +red cotton turban, sat down to her knitting,--her day's work over, +everything in its place, and the kitchen-floor white with extreme +cleanliness,--Nell came skipping into the room, pencil and paper in +hand. + +"You see," she said, as she arranged her writing materials on the +table, and drew the solitary tallow candle towards her; "you see, +Comfort, school breaks up next week, and the spring vacation begins. +It lasts a month, only think of it! Will not I have good times, eh? +Johnny Bixby,--you know Johnny Bixby, Comfort? well, he goes to his +home in the city as soon as vacation commences, and as we may not see +him again, he wants each of the little girls to write him some poetry +so that he can remember us by it; and that's the way I come to want to +learn how." + +"Oh," said Comfort, "I understand now. Johnny boards with those ar +Harrowses, eh?" + +"Yes," said Nell; "and he's such a very quiet boy, you've no idea, +Comfort." + +"He's the fust _quiet_ boy ever _I_ heerd on, then," said Comfort. +"Weel, what do you want to say to Johnny in your poetry? That's the +first and important p'int; don't begin to write till you finds what you +are a goin' to say." + +"Oh, I want to tell him good-bye, and all that sort of thing, Comfort, +and how I hope we will meet again. I've got the first line all written; +that's some help isn't it? Melindy's and my first lines are just alike, +'cause we made it up between us." + +"How does it go?" asked Comfort, puffing at her pipe. + +"This way," said Nelly, taking up her paper and reading: + + "Our days of youth will soon be o'er." + +"Well," said Comfort, after a moment's reflection, "I think that's very +good. Now you must find something to rhyme with that ar word 'o'er.'" + +Nelly bent over her papers, and seemed to be considering very hard +indeed. Once she put forth her hand as if she were going to write, but +drew it back again. Evidently she found writing poetry very difficult +work. Comfort was looking at her, too, and that made her nervous, and +even the solemn stare of the cat, Nancy, from the hearth, where she sat +purring, added to her embarrassment. + +"Oh, Comfort," she said, at last, with a deep sigh; "I can't! I wonder +if Johnny Bixby would take as much trouble as this for me. Do tell me +what rhymes with 'o'er,' Comfort!" + +"'O'er,' 'o'er,'" repeated Comfort, slowly; "why, tore, gnaw, boar, +roar, and such like. Roar is very good." + +"But I don't want 'roar' in poetry, Comfort," said Nelly, considerably +ruffled. "I don't see how you can bring 'roar' in. I wonder if 'more' +would not do." + +She took up her pencil, and in a little while, with beaming eyes, read +to her listener these lines: + + "Our days of youth will soon be o'er, + In Harrows' school we'll meet no more." + +"That's pretty fair, isn't it, Comfort?" + +"'Pears like," was the answer that came from a cloud of smoke on the +other side of the room. "I'm sorry the 'roar' couldn't come in, though. +Don't disremember to say something nice about his writin' to tell yer +if he gits safe home, and so, and so." + +"No," said Nell; "I'll not"--"forget" she meant to have added, but just +then came a heavy knock on the kitchen-door that made both of them +start. + +Comfort opened it, and there stood a boy, nearly a man, in the dress +of a sailor. His hair was long and shaggy, his face was brown, and over +his shoulder swung a small bundle on a stick. + +He was not, however, as rough as he looked, for he took off his hat and +said in a pleasant voice, + +"Can you tell me where a widow by the name of Harrow lives in this +neighborhood? I was directed this way, I think." + +"Over yonder is the house," said Comfort, pointing out into the night. +"And the next time yer come, be keerful not to thump so hard. We are +not used to it in this 'ere part of the country." + +Nelly heard the young man laugh as he walked down the path from the +house; and something in the sound brought Miss Milly to her mind. The +more she thought of it, the more certain she became that the young +man's voice was like her teacher's. She sat still a little while, +thinking, and idly scratching her pencil back and forth. At length she +said, quite forgetful of her writing, + +"Comfort, didn't Mrs. Harrow's son run away to sea, ever so long ago?" + +This question, simple as it was, seemed to fill Comfort with sudden +knowledge. She clapped her hands together joyfully. + +"My stars! ef that don't beat all! I do b'lieve Sidney Harrow is come +back again!" + +She went to the door to look after him, but his figure had long since +vanished down the path. The gloom of night reigned, undisturbed, +without. There was no sailor-boy to be seen. + +"My stars!" said Comfort, again and again; "ef that was only Miss +Milly's brother come back to help keer for the family, instead of +runnin' off like a bad ongrateful feller, as he was, I'll be glad for +one." + +"And I'll be glad too," cried Nelly; "and then dear Miss Elinor need +not teach, but can read books all day, if she likes, and be happy. Oh, +kitty, kitty! will not that be nice?" and in the delight of her heart, +the little girl caught up the cat from the hearth, and began to caress +her in a joyful manner, that the sober puss must have considered rather +indecorous, for she sat still in her lap, looking as grave as a judge, +and never winked or purred once at her young mistress. + +Here the clock struck nine. + +"Dear, dear!" said Nelly; "and I haven't finished my poetry yet! and +very soon I must go to bed." Back she went with renewed vigor. "What +were you saying, Comfort, when that young man knocked? Oh, I know,--to +tell Johnny to write to me; I remember now. Don't you think it will +seem strange to Johnny to be with his mother all the time, instead of +sending her letters from school? eh, Comfort?" + +But the old woman was lost in her thoughts and her smoking, and did +not reply. Nelly bent over her paper, read, and re-read the two lines +already accomplished, and after musing in some perplexity what should +come next, asked, + +"Comfort, what rhymes with B?" + +"Stingin' bee, Nell?" + +"No, the _letter_ B." + +"Oh, that's it, is it? Well, let me think. I haven't made poetry +this ever so long. There's 'ragin' sea,'--how's that?" said Comfort, +beginning to show symptoms of getting deeply interested. "Now take to +'flectin' on that ar, Nell." + +Nell did reflect some time, but to no purpose. Some way she could not +fit in Comfort's "ragin' sea." It was no use, it would not go! She +wrote and erased, and erased and wrote, for a full quarter of an hour. +After much anxious labor, she produced finally this verse, and bidding +Comfort listen, read it aloud, in a very happy, triumphant way. Then +she copied it neatly on a piece of paper, in a large, uneven, childish +handwriting, which she had only lately acquired. It was now ready to +be presented on the morrow. + + TO JOHNNY BIXBY. + + Our days of youth will soon be o'er, + In Harrow's school we'll meet no more; + You'll write no more to Mrs. B., + Oh then, dear Johnny, write to me! + +"And now," said Nelly, as she folded up the precious paper, after +having duly received Comfort's congratulations and praise,--"and now +I'm going straight to tell mother about Sidney Harrow." + + + + +CHAPTER VI. + +GETTING LOST. + + +The next day, when Nelly went to school with her verse-paper in her +hand, all ready for presentation, she found the children talking +together in little groups, in tones of great surprise and delighted +satisfaction. + +Melinda, now grown kind and loving to Nelly, as a consequence of that +little girl's own patience and affectionate effort, came forward at +once to tell the news. + +"Only think!" she said; "Mrs. Harrow's son, Sidney, has come home, and +oh, Miss Milly and Miss Elinor are _so_ glad!" + +"And so am I," cried Nelly; "if ever there was good luck, that is." + +"I am not so sure about that," said Melinda, with a sage, grown-up air; +for she liked to seem like a woman, and often told her companions, +"dear knows, if _she_ wasn't big enough to be thought one, she would +like to know who _was_!" + +"Why, isn't Mr. Sidney a nice young man, Melindy?" asked Nelly, in +bewilderment. + +"Hush!" said Melinda, drawing her into a corner; "don't talk so loud. +You see, he's come home as poor as he went, and folks are afraid that +he will go on just as he did before,--that is, spend all his own +earnings and plenty of his mother's, too." + +"Dear, dear!" said Nelly; "that will be hard for Miss Milly." + +"Anyway," continued Melinda, wisely, "we can hope for the best, you +know. Miss Milly is so glad to have him back, that she came into +this 'ere school-room, this very morning, and told the scholars she +was going to take them all on a picnic, to-morrow, up yonder, on Mr. +Bradish's mountain. We are to ask our mothers if we can go, and then +come here with our dinners in our baskets, and set off together as soon +as the grass dries. Fun, isn't it?" + +Nelly's eyes danced. + +"A picnic! well, if that isn't nice! I hope Comfort will put something +real good in my basket, to-morrow." Then she added, thoughtfully, "I +wonder if Martin might not go, too?" + +"I'll ask," said Melinda; and up she went to Miss Milly, who at that +moment entered. + +Little Johnny Bixby, a boy of ten, now came up to wish Nell +good-morning, and talk about the picnic. Nelly gave him her poetry, and +he read it, and said, + +"It's splendid, Nelly; I'll show it to mother as soon as I get home." + +The next day came. The skies were clear, but the wind was high, and +swayed the branches of the trees around the farm-house, and swept the +long, wet grass to and fro. + +"Is it going to storm?" asked Nelly, anxiously, of Martin, as +immediately after breakfast they stood together in the door-way and +looked forth. + +"No," said Martin; "I think it will not storm, but the breeze will be a +pretty stiff one all day. Perhaps Miss Milly will postpone the picnic." + +"Oh, dear!" cried Nelly; "I hope not. What! put it off after Comfort +has baked us that great, bouncing sponge-cake, Martin?" + +Martin was going too, for Miss Milly had sent him an invitation, and +Mr. Brooks had granted him, very willingly, a holiday. He had only to +help milk the cows early in the morning, and then he was free to follow +his pleasure till sundown. He was dressed now in his Sunday suit; his +hair was combed smoothly over his forehead, and his best cloth cap was +in his hands. Altogether he looked so tidy, so good, so happy, that +when Mr. Brooks came in the room, he asked Comfort, with a smile, if +she didn't think a lad of about the age of Martin ought to have at +least a dime of spending money, when he went to picnics. On Comfort's +saying heartily, without taking one single instant for reflection, +"Yes, Sir," the farmer put his hand in his pocket, drew out a new and +bright quarter of a dollar, and dropped it in Martin's cap. Martin +tried to return it, but Mr. Brooks would not hear to any such thing, +but shouldered his hoe and went off, whistling, into the garden. + +"I'll tell you what to do with it," said Nelly, in a confidential +whisper; "buy round hearts; they're four for a penny. Only think of +four times twenty-five round hearts! How much is that, Martin?" + +Martin laughed, and said he guessed he would not invest in round +hearts, for Comfort's cake was so large. + +"So _monstrous_ large," put in Nelly, dividing a glance of affection +between Comfort and the cake. + +"Yes," continued Martin; "it is so _monstrous_ that it ought to last, +at least, two whole days." + +The farmer's wife came in just then, and told them she would pack the +dinner-basket herself, to see that everything was right, and that it +was full enough, for she said she had heard somebody remark that good +appetites were sure to go along on picnics. Nelly and Martin stood by +and looked at her as she unfolded a clean white towel, and outspread +it in the basket, so that the ends hung over the sides. After this +she took some thin pieces of cold beef and put them between slices of +bread and butter, and these she packed away first. Now came Comfort's +sponge-cake, cut in quarters, and as many little lady-apples as +remained from the winter's store,--for it was late in the spring. A cup +to drink out of the mountain streams was also added, and the towel-ends +were nicely folded over the whole and pinned together. + +A happy pair they were, when they set out,--Martin carrying the +provisions, and Nelly singing and making flying skips beside him. When +they reached the school-house, nearly all the children were assembled. +Miss Milly was there, and her brother too, a handsome young lad, of +about eighteen, with a very brown, sunburnt face. Nelly knew him, the +moment she saw him, to be the same person she had seen before. They +were not to start for an hour yet, for, high as the wind had been, and +was, the grass was still glittering with dew. The little road-side +brooks were furrowed into white-crested waves, and the school-house +creaked and moaned with the gusts that blew against it. + +"I am almost afraid to venture taking the children out," said +Miss Milly; but upon hearing this, such a clamor of good-humored +expostulation arose, and so many sorrowful "oh's," and "oh dear me's," +resounded through the room, that Sidney Harrow, as any other boy would +have done, begged his sister to have mercy and never mind the wind. + +In a little while the party started. Mr. Bradish's mountain, the +proposed scene of the picnic, was distant about one mile from the +school-house. The route to it lay through a long, shady lane that +gradually wound towards the woods, and lost itself at last amid +the huge, gray rocks and dense shade of the hill-top itself. It was +spring-time, and the grass was very green, and delicate wild flowers +starred all the road-side. Here and there, in the crevice of a mossy +stone, grew a tuft of wild pinks, nodding against a group of scarlet +columbines, while, wherever the ground afforded unusual moisture, blue +violets thrust up their graceful heads in thick masses. + +"Hurrah!" cried Johnny Bixby, as they reached the summit of the +mountain; "Hurrah! here we are at last. The picnic's begun!" + +Miss Milly said the children might stray around together for some time +before it would be the dinner-hour, and they might gather as many wild +flowers as they wished, to decorate the picnic grounds. All the girls +set to work, and such a crowd of violets, anemones, wild buckwheat, +and pinks as was soon piled around Miss Milly's feet, was a sight +to behold. While Sidney Harrow with Martin and the rest of the boys +were fishing in a little stream that ran over the mountain, about one +quarter of a mile distant, Miss Milly's party tied bouquets to the +branches of the trees, and hung garlands on the bushes, around the +spot where they were to dine. The wind died away, the birds sung out +merrily, and the air grew soft and warm, so that, after all, there +was no fear of little folks taking cold. The brook where Sidney and +Martin led the boys was not a very deep one, and therefore it was not +dangerous, but it was celebrated for miles around for its fish. A +large, overhanging rock, under the shade of a tree, served, as Martin +said, for a "roosting-place," and from it they found the bites so +frequent that quite a little string of fish was made, and hung on some +dead roots that projected from the bank. + +"What a wild place this is," said Martin, looking around him, as he +drew in his line for the fourth time. + +"Yes," said Sidney; "it is. That is the best of it. I wouldn't give a +fig for it if it wasn't. Look at that cow coming to drink. I wonder +where she hails from! How she looks at us!" + +The cow did indeed regard them with a long stare of astonishment, and +then, scarcely tasting the water, she plunged, bellowing, into the +woods again. + +"She is frightened," said Martin; "that's old Duchess, one of Mr. +Bradish's cows. He turns them out with their calves every summer, to +take care of themselves till fall." + +"Why, is the pasture good enough for that, up here on this mountain?" +asked Sidney, baiting his hook. + +"Yes," replied Martin; "I think so; it's rather rough, but cows are +mighty knowin', and pick out the best. Besides, they have their +freedom, and they thrive on that as much as anything. Then the calves +are so well grown in the fall by these means, that when farmers, who +put them out, go to drive them home to winter-quarters, they hardly +know their own again." + +"There, she's coming back!" cried a little boy; "and a whole lot with +her!" + +Martin looked where the crashing of boughs told of the approach, and +saw about a dozen cows, headed by Duchess, making for that part of +the stream where they were fishing. Some half-grown calves scampered +at their heels, in a frightened way, that showed they were not much +accustomed to the sight of human beings. + +"Poor Duchess! Good Duchess!" said Martin, in a kind tone; but Duchess +tossed up her nice, brown nose, and snorted at him. + +"She don't like the looks of us, that's flat," said Sidney, with a +little alarm that made Martin smile; "I'm sure I don't like _her_ +appearance one bit. Suppose she should horn us!" And he jumped hastily +up from the rock. + +"What!" said Martin; "you, a sailor, who know what it is to face +death on the ocean, every day of your life, and yet afraid of a cow! +Besides, she hasn't a horn to her head! Just look at her. She has +nothing but two little, miserable stumps!" + +Sidney came back again, for he had retreated a step or two, under the +trees, and looked somewhat ashamed. + +"What's the use of jumpin'?" said Johnny Bixby, in a big, pompous +tone, that he meant to be very courageous and manly; "Duchess is only +frightened at seeing us. This is her drinking-place, may be." + +"Oh!" said Sidney; "of course _I_ am not afraid;" but his lips turned +blue as Duchess made a sudden move, half-way across the stream, and +then stood still, and roared again. + +"She's a little scared at us, that's all," said Martin; "she'll get +used to the sight of us pretty soon." + +"After she's made the water muddy and spoiled the fishing," said +Sidney, in an ill-natured tone. + +Martin took off his shoes and stockings, rolled up his trousers, and +waded slowly across the brook towards the herd of cattle, holding +out his hand and speaking to one or two of the animals by name, in a +coaxing, petting way: + +"Come here, Spotty,--come here, good little White Sue,--come here, my +poor old Duchess!" + +The cows stood and looked at him, very quietly. The one he called Sue, +was small, and entirely white, with the exception of a bright red star +on her forehead; she was a very pretty creature. She seemed to remember +having seen Martin before, for presently she marched slowly up to +him and sniffed his hand, while staring at him from head to foot. The +boy scratched her ears, as he had often done before upon passing Mr. +Bradish's barnyard; she appeared to be pleased, and rubbed her head +against his shoulder. + +"Softly, there, Susie," said Martin; "I don't like that. That's my +Sunday go-to-meeting coat." + +He stepped back as he spoke, and the abrupt movement alarmed the whole +troop. White Sue gave a loud bellow, and dashed abruptly across the +stream into the woods on the other side,--her companions hurriedly +following, splashing the water over themselves and their calves as they +did so. + +Sidney Harrow dropped his pole, and with a half-shriek, ran in the +opposite direction, towards the picnic ground. + +As the fishing at that place was now over, on account of the +disturbance of the water, Martin told the boys they had better join the +rest of the party; so they gathered up the fish and bait, and left the +spot, Martin carrying the rod of the brave sailor in addition to his +own. + +They found Miss Milly building a fire in a small clearing, where it +would not scorch the trees. Sidney was with her. As he saw the boys +approach he got down on his knees and began to blow the flame into a +blaze, and puffed and panted so hard at his work, that he could not +even get his breath to say "thank you," when Martin remarked, "Here is +your rod, Sidney. You left it on the rock. I'll lean it against this +maple, till you are ready to take charge of it." + +"I am glad you have come," said Miss Milly to the group of boys; "for +we are getting magnificent appetites, and I wanted Sidney and Martin to +roast the clams." + +"Clams!" cried Martin; "that was what made Sidney's load so heavy, +then, coming up the hill. How I like roasted clams!" + +Miss Milly showed him Sidney's empty basket, and told him that she and +Melinda had prepared a compact bed of the clams on the ground, and that +they had then placed over them a quantity of dry branches, ready to +kindle when Sidney should come with the matches, which he carried in +his pocket, and had brought for the purpose. + +The tablecloth was already spread on a flat rock near at hand, and the +little girls were still busy arranging the contents of their baskets +upon it, for, by general consent, they were to dine together that day, +and share with each other the eatables that had been provided for the +excursion. + +Martin reached down his and Nelly's basket, from a high limb where he +had hung it for safety, and Comfort's big cake, which Mrs. Brooks had +cut in quarters, was fitted together and placed in the centre of the +cloth for the chief ornament. + +"Will not Comfort feel proud when she hears it?" whispered Nelly to +Martin, as she passed him with her hands full of knives and forks. + +The fire was soon blazing and sputtering over the clams, and in a +short time Sidney pronounced them cooked. With branches of trees, the +boys then drew the burning fragments away, and scattered the red coals +till the bed of baked clams presented itself. Miss Milly tried one and +found it was just in a fine state to eat, and then the children were +told that all was ready. + +Armed with plates, pieces of bread and butter, and knives and forks, +they drew near, and the talking and laughing that ensued, as each +opened the hot shells, for his or herself, made a merry scene of it. + +There were enough for all, and to spare; and when they left the +clam-bed, still smoking and smouldering, to assemble around +"table-rock," as Melinda called it, where the daintier part of the +feast was spread, Martin said he had never tasted such finely roasted +clams in his life. + +"I expect," said Miss Milly, "that the charm lies in our appetites." + +"Yes," said Johnny Bixby, taking an enormous bite of cake, and, to +Nelly's great horror, speaking with his mouth full--"yes, I think goin' +on picnics and such like, is real hungry work." + +This speech was received with a shout of approbation; and, on Sidney +remarking that he thought that Johnny should be made the orator of the +occasion, the children laughed again, and quite as heartily as though +they fully understood what _orator_ meant. + +When the dinner was over, and the larger girls began to gather up the +fragments, and restore plates and spoons to their owners, the rest +prepared for a ramble. Miss Milly said they must not go far, nor stay +long, and, promising to obey, the children set out together. + +As soon as they were separated from the others, which happened +insensibly, Johnny Bixby gave Nelly, with whom he was walking, a very +animated account of Sidney Harrow's behavior at the fishing-ground. + +"Afraid of cows!" said Nell; "well, that beats all I ever heard. I am +afraid that Sidney will not help Miss Milly along much. Come, show me +where you fished, Johnny, will you?" + +Johnny led the way, and in a little while he and Nelly stood on the +very rock from which the boys had dropped their lines in the morning. +The moss upon it was trodden under foot, and it was quite wet where +the fish had been hauled in. + +"I wonder if this is a creek," said Nell, looking up and down the brook +with an admiring gaze; "Marm Lizy used often to tell me of a creek +where she rowed a boat, when she was young." + +"Marm Lizy?" asked Johnny; "who's that, Nell?" + +Nelly turned very red, and was silent. She remembered, like a flash of +lightning, that John was a stranger in the village, his home being in +the adjacent city, and that therefore he had, perhaps, never heard the +story of her degraded childhood. Pride rose up and made her deceitful. + +"Marm Lizy!" she repeated, carelessly; "oh, I don't know; somebody or +other who used to live in the village. What's that, Johnny, flopping +about in the grass?" + +She pointed to the rock-side, where, as Johnny soon saw, a decided +"flopping" was indeed going on. + +"A fish! a fish!" cried the boy, catching it and holding it up in both +hands, so that Nell could look at it; "I'll take it to Martin to put on +the string with the rest. It must have floundered off." + +"Oh, let us put it back," cried Nelly; "poor Mr. Fish! I think you +would really like to try your hand at swimming again." + +"Fin, you mean," laughed John; "fishes don't have hands that ever _I_ +heard tell. Shall I let it go?" + +"Oh, yes!" cried Nell; "but wait till I get down from the rock so +that I can see it swim away." She clambered down, and soon stood by +Johnny's side on the long grass that grew close to the brook's edge, +and mingled with the little white bubbles on its surface. Johnny +stooped, and, holding the fish, put his hands under the water. The +moment the poor, tortured thing felt the touch of its native element, +it gave a start and would have darted away. + +"Oh, Johnny!" exclaimed Nell; "don't tease it so cruelly. Please let it +go." + +Johnny lifted up his hands, and instantly the fish swam off so swiftly +that they could scarcely see which way it went. At last Nelly espied it +under the shadow of the rock, puffing its little sides in and out, and +looking at them with its keen, bright eyes, in a very frightened way. + +[Illustration: "Johnny lifted up his hands, and instantly the fish +swam off." Page 154.] + +"Poor fish!" said Johnny; "swim away, and remember not to nibble at +boy's hooks again. A worm is a very good thing for you when it isn't at +the end of a piece of string." + +The fish gazed at him a little longer, then seeming to take his advice, +darted from the rock to where the water was deeper and darker, and was +soon lost to sight. + +"That's the place Sidney's cows came from," said Johnny, pointing +to the opposite side of the stream, where the bushes were torn and +trodden, and marks of hoofs were in the mud and grass. + +"Let us take off our shoes and stockings and wade over and follow their +track, to see where it leads," cried Nelly; and, suiting the action to +the word, the two children soon found themselves bare-footed,--Nell +tying her boots to dangle one from each of her apron-strings, and +Johnny carrying his in his hands. Nell got her feet in first, but drew +back, saying it was cold; so Johnny dashed over, splashing his little +bare legs, and leaving a muddy track all across the brook. + +"There," said he, somewhat boastfully, "that's the way! I am glad I'm +not afraid like girls." + +Nelly did not like this treatment, and she was about giving a hasty and +angry answer, when, sobered by the recollection of the deep fault she +had already committed, by her late untruth, she only said,-- + +"Sidney was afraid of _cows_!" and waded slowly and silently through +the water. + +They found the path to be quite a well-worn one. It was evidently +that by which the cows were in the habit of coming to drink. It was +pretty, too, and very wild. In a little while, as they left the brook +farther and farther behind them, the walking became dry and very good, +so that they resumed their shoes, but not their stockings,--Johnny +stating that he hated the latter, and would rather "scratch himself to +pieces" on the blackberry thorns than put them on again. The shade was +very pleasant. Once or twice they paused to rest on the large stones +which were scattered here and there through the path, but this was not +for any great length of time; they wandered on and on, taking no note +of time, nor of their prolonged absence from their companions, but +enjoying every thing they saw, and wishing all the days in the year +were like this one. + +The openings in the trees were very few; they were penetrating, +although they did not know it, into the very heart of the wood. Once, +and once only, they caught a glimpse, through the branches, of a small +clearing. Half-burned stumps still showed themselves amid the rank +grass. On the top of an elevation, at one side of this clearing, a +horse was quietly grazing. As he moved, Johnny saw he was lame, and +from this the children judged that, like the cows, he was turned out to +pasture for the summer. As Nelly parted the bushes to look at him, he +gave a frightened start, and began to paw the grass. He still stood on +the little hill, in beautiful relief against the soft blue of the sky, +the rising breeze of the coming sunset blowing his long, black mane and +tail gracefully in the air as the children turned away to pursue their +journey. The cow-path soon branched into others more winding and narrow +than the one they had just quitted. The time since dinner had passed so +rapidly and happily, that they did not dream night was coming, or that +they had strayed too far away from their companions. The wild flowers +grew so thickly, and the mosses were of such surprising softness and +length, that it was scarcely any wonder they forgot their teacher's +parting injunction. + +When night at last really began to approach, and Nelly looked anxiously +around at the gathering twilight in the woods, Johnny said it was +nothing but the natural shadows of the trees, and so they concluded +to go on a little farther to gather a few of the laurel blossoms they +saw growing amid their shining green leaves, a short distance beyond. +When they had reached this spot, and captured the desired treasures, +Nelly saw with dismay, that the path ended abruptly against the side +of an immense rock, quite as large, she thought, as the whole of the +farm-house at home. + +"Nell!" said Johnny, suddenly; "I believe we are lost! How to find our +way back again over these long paths we have been walking through all +the afternoon, I am sure I do not know." + +"And I am so tired now, I can hardly stir," said Nelly, in a +complaining tone; "and night is near, as I told you before." + +Johnny looked around without answering. He saw that there was no help +for it; they must return the way they came, long as it was, or stay in +the woods all night. + +"Come, Nelly," he said, "we must go back on the same path, if we can." + +It was getting quite dusky. They took each other by the hand and +trudged along. One by one the flowers dropped from Nelly's full apron, +to the ground, and at length her weary fingers unclasped, and the apron +itself resumed its proper position. Everybody knows how easy it is to +lose one's way, and what a difficult thing it is to find it again. Our +wanderers discovered it to be so. They got upon a wrong path that led +them into soft, wet ground, where, the first thing they knew, they were +up to their ankles in mud; and when they had extricated themselves as +well as they could, and struck out boldly for home, confident that they +were now making a direct short-cut for it, they found themselves, in +a little while, on the same path, at the foot of the same large rock +where they were before. + +This was a little too much for the patience of the two picnickers. +Johnny looked at Nell gravely. + +"Don't!" he said, "don't, Nelly dear!" + +"Don't what?" asked Nelly, dropping down where she stood, so completely +exhausted as to be glad of a moment's rest. + +"Don't cry. You look just like it. All girls cry, you know." + +[Illustration: "They saw then, that this huge rock was on the very +summit of the mountain." Page 163.] + +"Do they?" asked Nell, absently looking about her. Then she asked, with +energy, "Johnny, do you know what I think we ought to do? We must climb +this big mountain of a rock, some way, and see what there is on the +other side of it. Maybe we are near home." + +"I guess not," said Johnny; "but I can climb it if you can." + +After thinking the case over, they clasped hands once more, and began +the ascent. They had to sit down several times, to rest, on the way. +The sharp points of the rock and the narrow crevices which they +mounted, hurt their tired feet. + +At last they reached the top, and found themselves in comparative +daylight, because they were now out of the woods. They saw then, that +this huge rock was on the very summit of the mountain on which the +picnic had taken place. They beheld from it, distinctly, their homes +in the valley beneath. The rock was entirely free from foliage, and +nothing obscured the splendor of the landscape below. The sun had just +set red and misty in the west, shedding his parting glow over the +peaceful village and the scattered farm-houses, on its outskirts. + +No wonder the two children were overcome by fatigue,--they had been +gradually, but unconsciously ascending the hill the whole afternoon. + +They stood there now, hand in hand, looking down upon their far-off +homes. + +"Are you afraid, Nell?" asked her companion, in a low voice. + +"No," said Nell; "not now, that we are out of those dark woods; +besides, I have thought of a plan to make them see us from below. Look +here." + +She put her hand in her pocket and drew forth a match. + +"Sidney Harrow dropped this when he was kindling the fire, and I +thought of Comfort's savin' ways and picked it up. Can you guess what I +am going to do? We must get together some brush-wood, and make a fine +blaze that they will see in the village." + +"And even if they don't come to bring us home," said Johnny, "it will +keep us warm till morning, and then we can find our own way. But we +must go down the rock to get the wood. Oh dear! I don't think much of +picnics, do you, Nell?" + +Very soon a fire burned on the top of the rock, and notwithstanding +their fatigue, the children kept it in a broad blaze. As the last +bright cloud of sunset faded away, the flames spread boldly into the +night air, a signal of distress to those who were safely housed in the +farm-houses beneath. + +Having got the fire well going, and a large stock of wood on hand to +feed it, the weary, dispirited children sat down to rest, beside it. + +Neither spoke for a long time. They listened intently for the expected +aid, yet nothing but the dreary hoot of the owls met their ears, +mingled with the moan of the wind, which now being steadily increasing, +blew the flames high in the air. + +Nelly got up to poke the coals with a branch she kept for that purpose, +and when she had done so, she stood leaning upon it and looking +sorrowfully into the valley, where she saw lights twinkling from +windows. + +"Johnny," she said, softly, "do you believe anybody can be _perfectly_ +good in this world?" + +"Yes," said Johnny, carelessly, "I s'pose so, if a fellow tries hard +enough. I guess it's pretty tough work though, don't you?" + +"The more _I_ try, the worse I seem to be; at least,--well, you see, +the worse I _feel_ myself to be." + +"We've neither of us been very good to-day, Nell. Miss Milly told us +not to go far, nor to stay long, and I believe we've gone as far as we +could, and I'm sure we've stayed a deal longer than we want to,--_I_ +have. Are you afraid _now_, Nell?" + +"God takes care of us, always," said little Nell, solemnly, still +leaning on her branch and crossing her feet. "Comfort tells me that, +and mother reminds me of it when she hears me say my prayers on going +to bed." + +"Do you believe it? Does He see us _now_?" questioned her companion, +raising himself on his elbow and gazing at her as she stood between him +and the bright fire. + +"I believe it," was the reverent answer. "Dear Johnny, let us not +forget our prayers to-night, if we stay up here." + +There was another long, long pause. + +"Johnny?" + +"Well, Nell." + +"I was wicked to you to-day. I was proud, and told you I didn't know +who Marm Lizy was, when you asked me. That wasn't true, and now I'm +sorry." + +"Well, who was she, Nell?" + +Tears of repentance for her own sin, and likewise of sorrow at the +recollection of poor Marm Lizy's misspent life, rose to Nelly's eyes, +and glittered on her cheeks in the red firelight, like rubies. Johnny +looked at her with redoubled interest. + +"Marm Lizy," said Nell, getting through her self-imposed confession +with a little difficulty, "Marm Lizy was a--a--a sort of mother to me. +She wasn't good to me, and I wasn't good to her. She beat me sometimes, +and--and I didn't know any better than to hate her. I wouldn't do so +_now_, I think. I should be sorry for her." + +"Where is Marm Lizy now, Nelly?" + +The boy did not know what remembrances that simple question awoke. + +Nelly did not answer, but crouched down by the fire, and buried her +face in her hands. + +After a long interval she started up again. + +She heard shouts, faint at first, but gradually growing nearer. + +She and Johnny set up a long, loud, eager cry in return, that woke a +dozen mountain echoes. Then dogs barked, lanterns gleamed through the +dark woods, the shouts burst forth again, and many voices were heard +calling them by name! + +The fire had done its work. The LOST were FOUND at +last, for in a short time Nelly was clasped in her father's arms. + +So terminated the picnic. + + +THE END. + + + +Transcriber's Note: + +Spelling, punctuation and hyphenation have been retained as in the +original publication except as follows: + + Page 36 + fish-fork. It wasn't your _changed to_ + fish-fork. "It wasn't your + + Page 54 + I--'blieve--I shall--crack _changed to_ + I--b'lieve--I shall--crack + + Nelly,--'spose now, I had _changed to_ + Nelly,--s'pose now, I had + + Page 55 + growing interest; what's _slave_ _changed to_ + growing interest; "what's _slave_ + + Page 63 + little grimly, "stockin' or no stockin' _changed to_ + little grimly, "Stockin' or no stockin' + + Page 87 + evergreens are permitted to remain. _changed to_ + evergreens are permitted to remain." + + Page 89 + 'What!' said my uncle _changed to_ + "'What!' said my uncle + + Page 100 + All the people were more _changed to_ + "All the people were more + + Page 104 + It do'n't seem a bit _changed to_ + It don't? seem a bit + + Page 162 + patience of the two picnicers _changed to_ + patience of the two picnickers + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's Nelly's First Schooldays, by Josephine Franklin + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 43697 *** |