CHAPTER XV. IN THE WILLOW
The old tree saw and heard a good many little scenes and confidencesthat summer, because it became the favorite retreat of all the children,and the willow seemed to enjoy it, for a pleasant welcome always metthem, and the quiet hours spent in its arms did them all good. It hada great deal of company one Saturday afternoon, and some little birdreported what went on there.
First came Nan and Daisy with their small tubs and bits of soap, fornow and then they were seized with a tidy fit, and washed up all theirdolls' clothes in the brook. Asia would not have them "slopping round"in her kitchen, and the bath-room was forbidden since Nan forgot to turnoff the water till it overflowed and came gently dripping down throughthe ceiling. Daisy went systematically to work, washing first the whiteand then the colored things, rinsing them nicely, and hanging them todry on a cord fastened from one barberry-bush to another, and pinningthem up with a set of tiny clothes-pins Ned had turned for her. But Nanput all her little things to soak in the same tub, and then forgot themwhile she collected thistledown to stuff a pillow for Semiramis, Queenof Babylon, as one doll was named. This took some time, and when Mrs.Giddy-gaddy came to take out her clothes, deep green stains appeared onevery thing, for she had forgotten the green silk lining of a certaincape, and its color had soaked nicely into the pink and blue gowns, thelittle chemises, and even the best ruffled petticoat.
"Oh me! what a mess!" sighed Nan.
"Lay them on the grass to bleach," said Daisy, with an air ofexperience.
"So I will, and we can sit up in the nest and watch that they don't blowaway."
The Queen of Babylon's wardrobe was spread forth upon the bank, and,turning up their tubs to dry, the little washerwomen climbed into thenest, and fell to talking, as ladies are apt to do in the pauses ofdomestic labor.
"I'm going to have a feather-bed to go with my new pillow," said Mrs.Giddy-gaddy, as she transferred the thistledown from her pocket to herhandkerchief, losing about half in the process.
"I wouldn't; Aunt Jo says feather-beds aren't healthy. I never let mychildren sleep on any thing but a mattress," returned Mrs. ShakespeareSmith, decidedly.
"I don't care; my children are so strong they often sleep on thefloor, and don't mind it," (which was quite true). "I can't afford ninemattresses, and I like to make beds myself."
"Won't Tommy charge for the feathers?"
"May be he will, but I shan't pay him, and he won't care," returned Mrs.G., taking a base advantage of the well-known good nature of T. Bangs.
"I think the pink will fade out of that dress sooner than the green markwill," observed Mrs. S., looking down from her perch, and changing thesubject, for she and her gossip differed on many points, and Mrs. Smithwas a discreet lady.
"Never mind; I'm tired of dolls, and I guess I shall put them all awayand attend to my farm; I like it rather better than playing house," saidMrs. G., unconsciously expressing the desire of many older ladies, whocannot dispose of their families so easily however.
"But you mustn't leave them; they will die without their mother," criedthe tender Mrs. Smith.
"Let 'em die then; I'm tired of fussing over babies, and I'm goingto play with the boys; they need me to see to 'em," returned thestrong-minded lady.
Daisy knew nothing about women's rights; she quietly took all shewanted, and no one denied her claim, because she did not undertake whatshe could not carry out, but unconsciously used the all-powerful rightof her own influence to win from others any privilege for which shehad proved her fitness. Nan attempted all sorts of things, undaunted bydireful failures, and clamored fiercely to be allowed to do every thingthat the boys did. They laughed at her, hustled her out of the way, andprotested against her meddling with their affairs. But she would not bequenched and she would be heard, for her will was strong, and she hadthe spirit of a rampant reformer. Mrs. Bhaer sympathized with her, buttired to curb her frantic desire for entire liberty, showing her thatshe must wait a little, learn self-control, and be ready to use herfreedom before she asked for it. Nan had meek moments when she agreed tothis, and the influences at work upon her were gradually taking effect.She no longer declared that she would be engine-driver or a blacksmith,but turned her mind to farming, and found in it a vent for the energybottled up in her active little body. It did not quite satisfy her,however; for her sage and sweet marjoram were dumb things, and could notthank her for her care. She wanted something human to love, work for,and protect, and was never happier than when the little boys broughttheir cut fingers, bumped heads, or bruised joints for her to "mend-up."Seeing this, Mrs. Jo proposed that she should learn how to do it nicely,and Nursey had an apt pupil in bandaging, plastering, and fomenting. Theboys began to call her "Dr. Giddy-gaddy," and she liked it so well thatMrs. Jo one day said to the Professor,
"Fritz, I see what we can do for that child. She wants something to livefor even now, and will be one of the sharp, strong, discontented womenif she does not have it. Don't let us snub her restless little nature,but do our best to give her the work she likes, and by and by persuadeher father to let her study medicine. She will make a capital doctor,for she has courage, strong nerves, a tender heart, and an intense loveand pity for the weak and suffering."
Mr. Bhaer smiled at first, but agreed to try, and gave Nan anherb-garden, teaching her the various healing properties of the plantsshe tended, and letting her try their virtues on the children inthe little illnesses they had from time to time. She learned fast,remembered well, and showed a sense and interest most encouraging toher Professor, who did not shut his door in her face because she was alittle woman.
She was thinking of this, as she sat in the willow that day, and whenDaisy said in her gentle way,
"I love to keep house, and mean to have a nice one for Demi when we growup and live together."
Nan replied with decision
"Well, I haven't got any brother, and I don't want any house to fussover. I shall have an office, with lots of bottles and drawers andpestle things in it, and I shall drive round in a horse and chaise andcure sick people. That will be such fun."
"Ugh! how can you bear the bad-smelling stuff and the nasty littlepowders and castor-oil and senna and hive syrup?" cried Daisy, with ashudder.
"I shan't have to take any, so I don't care. Besides, they make peoplewell, and I like to cure folks. Didn't my sage-tea make Mother Bhaer'sheadache go away, and my hops stop Ned's toothache in five hours? Sonow!"
"Shall you put leeches on people, and cut off legs and pull out teeth?"asked Daisy, quaking at the thought.
"Yes, I shall do every thing; I don't care if the people are all smashedup, I shall mend them. My grandpa was a doctor, and I saw him sew agreat cut in a man's cheek, and I held the sponge, and wasn't frighteneda bit, and Grandpa said I was a brave girl."
"How could you? I'm sorry for sick people, and I like to nurse them,but it makes my legs shake so I have to run away. I'm not a brave girl,"sighed Daisy.
"Well, you can be my nurse, and cuddle my patients when I have giventhem the physic and cut off their legs," said Nan, whose practice wasevidently to be of the heroic kind.
"Ship ahoy! Where are you, Nan?" called a voice from below.
"Here we are."
"Ay, ay!" said the voice, and Emil appeared holding one hand in theother, with his face puckered up as if in pain.
"Oh, what's the matter?" cried Daisy, anxiously.
"A confounded splinter in my thumb. Can't get it out. Take a pick at it,will you, Nanny?"
"It's in very deep, and I haven't any needle," said Nan, examining atarry thumb with interest.
"Take a pin," said Emil, in a hurry.
"No, it's too big and hasn't got a sharp point."
Here Daisy, who had dived into her pocket, presented a neat littlehousewife with four needles in it.
"You are the Posy who always has what we want," said Emil; and Nanresolved to have a needle-book in her own pocket henceforth, for justsuch cases as this were always occurring in her
practice.
Daisy covered her eyes, but Nan probed and picked with a steady hand,while Emil gave directions not down in any medical work or record.
"Starboard now! Steady, boys, steady! Try another tack. Heave ho! thereshe is!"
"Suck it," ordered the Doctor, surveying the splinter with anexperienced eye.
"Too dirty," responded the patient, shaking his bleeding hand.
"Wait; I'll tie it up if you have got a handkerchief."
"Haven't; take one of those rags down there."
"Gracious! no, indeed; they are doll's clothes," cried Daisy,indignantly.
"Take one of mine; I'd like to have you," said Nan; and swinging himselfdown, Emil caught up the first "rag" he saw. It happened to be thefrilled skirt; but Nan tore it up without a murmur; and when the royalpetticoat was turned into a neat little bandage, she dismissed herpatient with the command,
"Keep it wet, and let it alone; then it will heal right up, and not besore."
"What do you charge?" asked the Commodore, laughing.
"Nothing; I keep a 'spensary; that is a place where poor people aredoctored free gratis for nothing," explained Nan, with an air.
"Thank you, Doctor Giddy-gaddy. I'll always call you in when I cometo grief;" and Emil departed, but looked back to say for one good turndeserves another "Your duds are blowing away, Doctor."
Forgiving the disrespectful word, "duds," the ladies hastily descended,and, gathering up their wash, retired to the house to fire up the littlestove, and go to ironing.
A passing breath of air shook the old willow, as if it laughed softlyat the childish chatter which went on in the nest, and it had hardlycomposed itself when another pair of birds alighted for a confidentialtwitter.
"Now, I'll tell you the secret," began Tommy, who was "swellin' wisibly"with the importance of his news.
"Tell away," answered Nat, wishing he had brought his fiddle, it was soshady and quiet here.
"Well, we fellows were talking over the late interesting case ofcircumstantial evidence," said Tommy, quoting at random from a speechFranz had made at the club, "and I proposed giving Dan something tomake up for our suspecting him, to show our respect, and so on, you knowsomething handsome and useful, that he could keep always and be proudof. What do you think we chose?"
"A butterfly-net; he wants one ever so much," said Nat, looking a littledisappointed, for he meant to get it himself.
"No, sir; it's to be a microscope, a real swell one, that we seewhat-do-you-call-'ems in water with, and stars, and ant-eggs, and allsorts of games, you know. Won't it be a jolly good present?" said Tommy,rather confusing microscopes and telescopes in his remarks.
"Tip-top! I'm so glad! Won't it cost a heap, though?" cried Nat, feelingthat his friend was beginning to be appreciated.
"Of course it will; but we are all going to give something. I headed thepaper with my five dollars; for if it is done at all, it must be donehandsome."
"What! all of it? I never did see such a generous chap as you are;" andNat beamed upon him with sincere admiration.
"Well, you see, I've been so bothered with my property, that I'm tiredof it, and don't mean to save up any more, but give it away as I goalong, and then nobody will envy me, or want to steal it, and I shan'tbe suspecting folks and worrying about my old cash," replied Tommy, onwhom the cares and anxieties of a millionaire weighed heavily.
"Will Mr. Bhaer let you do it?"
"He thought it was a first-rate plan, and said that some of the best menhe knew preferred to do good with their money instead of laying it up tobe squabbled over when they died."
"Your father is rich; does he do that way?"
"I'm not sure; he gives me all I want; I know that much. I'm going totalk to him about it when I go home. Anyhow, I shall set him a goodexample;" and Tommy was so serious, that Nat did not dare to laugh, butsaid, respectfully,
"You will be able to do ever so much with your money, won't you?"
"So Mr. Bhaer said, and he promised to advise me about useful ways ofspending it. I'm going to begin with Dan; and next time I get a dollaror so, I shall do something for Dick, he's such a good little chap, andonly has a cent a week for pocket-money. He can't earn much, you know;so I'm going to kind of see to him;" and good-hearted Tommy quite longedto begin.
"I think that's a beautiful plan, and I'm not going to try to buy afiddle any more; I'm going to get Dan his net all myself, and if thereis any money left, I'll do something to please poor Billy. He's fondof me, and though he isn't poor, he'd like some little thing from me,because I can make out what he wants better than the rest of you."And Nat fell to wondering how much happiness could be got out of hisprecious three dollars.
"So I would. Now come and ask Mr. Bhaer if you can't go in town with meon Monday afternoon, so you can get the net, while I get the microscope.Franz and Emil are going too, and we'll have a jolly time larking roundamong the shops."
The lads walked away arm-in-arm, discussing the new plans with drollimportance, yet beginning already to feel the sweet satisfaction whichcomes to those who try, no matter how humbly, to be earthly providencesto the poor and helpless, and gild their mite with the gold of charitybefore it is laid up where thieves cannot break through and steal.
"Come up and rest while we sort the leaves; it's so cool and pleasanthere," said Demi, as he and Dan came sauntering home from a long walk inthe woods.
"All right!" answered Dan, who was a boy of few words, and up they went.
"What makes birch leaves shake so much more than the others?" askedinquiring Demi, who was always sure of an answer from Dan.
"They are hung differently. Don't you see the stem where it joins theleaf is sort of pinched one way, and where it joins the twig, it ispinched another. This makes it waggle with the least bit of wind, butthe elm leaves hang straight, and keep stiller."
"How curious! will this do so?" and Demi held up a sprig of acacia,which he had broken from a little tree on the lawn, because it was sopretty.
"No; that belongs to the sort that shuts up when you touch it. Draw yourfinger down the middle of the stem, and see if the leaves don't curlup," said Dan, who was examining a bit of mica.
Demi tried it, and presently the little leaves did fold together, tillthe spray showed a single instead of a double line of leaves.
"I like that; tell me about the others. What do these do?" asked Demi,taking up a new branch.
"Feed silk-worms; they live on mulberry leaves, till they begin to spinthemselves up. I was in a silk-factory once, and there were rooms fullof shelves all covered with leaves, and worms eating them so fast thatit made a rustle. Sometimes they eat so much they die. Tell that toStuffy," and Dan laughed, as he took up another bit of rock with alichen on it.
"I know one thing about this mullein leaf: the fairies use them forblankets," said Demi, who had not quite given up his faith in theexistence of the little folk in green.
"If I had a microscope, I'd show you something prettier than fairies,"said Dan, wondering if he should ever own that coveted treasure. "I knewan old woman who used mullein leaves for a night-cap because she hadface-ache. She sewed them together, and wore it all the time."
"How funny! was she your grandmother?"
"Never had any. She was a queer old woman, and lived alone in a littletumble-down house with nineteen cats. Folks called her a witch, but shewasn't, though she looked like an old rag-bag. She was real kind to mewhen I lived in that place, and used to let me get warm at her fire whenthe folks at the poorhouse were hard on me."
"Did you live in a poorhouse?"
"A little while. Never mind that I didn't mean to speak of it;" and Danstopped short in his unusual fit of communicativeness.
"Tell about the cats, please," said Demi, feeling that he had asked anunpleasant question, and sorry for it.
"Nothing to tell; only she had a lot of 'em, and kept 'em in a barrelnights; and I used to go and tip over the barrel sometimes, and let 'emout all over the house, and then she'd scold, an
d chase 'em and put 'emin again, spitting and yowling like fury."
"Was she good to them?" asked Demi, with a hearty child's laugh,pleasant to hear.
"Guess she was. Poor old soul! she took in all the lost and sick cats inthe town; and when anybody wanted one they went to Marm Webber, and shelet 'em pick any kind and color they wanted, and only asked ninepence,she was glad to have her pussies get a good home."
"I should like to see Marm Webber. Could I, if I went to that place?"
"She's dead. All my folks are," said Dan, briefly.
"I'm sorry;" and Demi sat silent a minute, wondering what subject wouldbe safe to try next. He felt delicate about speaking of the departedlady, but was very curious about the cats, and could not resist askingsoftly,
"Did she cure the sick ones?"
"Sometimes. One had a broken leg, and she tied it up to a stick, and itgot well; and another had fits, and she doctored it with yarbs tillit was cured. But some of 'em died, and she buried 'em; and when theycouldn't get well, she killed 'em easy."
"How?" asked Demi, feeling that there was a peculiar charm about thisold woman, and some sort of joke about the cats, because Dan was smilingto himself.
"A kind lady, who was fond of cats, told her how, and gave her somestuff, and sent all her own pussies to be killed that way. Marm usedto put a sponge wet with ether, in the bottom of an old boot, then pokepuss in head downwards. The ether put her to sleep in a jiffy, and shewas drowned in warm water before she woke up."
"I hope the cats didn't feel it. I shall tell Daisy about that. You haveknown a great many interesting things, haven't you?" asked Demi, andfell to meditating on the vast experience of a boy who had run away morethan once, and taken care of himself in a big city.
"Wish I hadn't sometimes."
"Why? Don't remembering them feel good?"
"No."
"It's very singular how hard it is to manage your mind," said Demi,clasping his hands round his knees, and looking up at the sky as if forinformation upon his favorite topic.
"Devilish hard no, I don't mean that;" and Dan bit his lips, for theforbidden word slipped out in spite of him, and he wanted to be morecareful with Demi than with any of the other boys.
"I'll play I didn't hear it," said Demi; "and you won't do it again, I'msure."
"Not if I can help it. That's one of the things I don't want toremember. I keep pegging away, but it don't seem to do much good;" andDan looked discouraged.
"Yes, it does. You don't say half so many bad words as you used to; andAunt Jo is pleased, because she said it was a hard habit to break up."
"Did she?" and Dan cheered up a bit.
"You must put swearing away in your fault-drawer, and lock it up; that'sthe way I do with my badness."
"What do you mean?" asked Dan, looking as if he found Demi almost asamusing as a new sort of cockchafer or beetle.
"Well, it's one of my private plays, and I'll tell you, but I thinkyou'll laugh at it," began Demi, glad to hold forth on this congenialsubject. "I play that my mind is a round room, and my soul is a littlesort of creature with wings that lives in it. The walls are full ofshelves and drawers, and in them I keep my thoughts, and my goodness andbadness, and all sorts of things. The goods I keep where I can seethem, and the bads I lock up tight, but they get out, and I have tokeep putting them in and squeezing them down, they are so strong. Thethoughts I play with when I am alone or in bed, and I make up and dowhat I like with them. Every Sunday I put my room in order, and talkwith the little spirit that lives there, and tell him what to do. He isvery bad sometimes, and won't mind me, and I have to scold him, and takehim to Grandpa. He always makes him behave, and be sorry for his faults,because Grandpa likes this play, and gives me nice things to put in thedrawers, and tells me how to shut up the naughties. Hadn't you bettertry that way? It's a very good one;" and Demi looked so earnest and fullof faith, that Dan did not laugh at his quaint fancy, but said, soberly,
"I don't think there is a lock strong enough to keep my badness shut up.Any way my room is in such a clutter I don't know how to clear it up."
"You keep your drawers in the cabinet all spandy nice; why can't you dothe others?"
"I ain't used to it. Will you show me how?" and Dan looked as ifinclined to try Demi's childish way of keeping a soul in order.
"I'd love to, but I don't know how, except to talk as Grandpa does. Ican't do it good like him, but I'll try."
"Don't tell any one; only now and then we'll come here and talk thingsover, and I'll pay you for it by telling all I know about my sort ofthings. Will that do?" and Dan held out his big, rough hand.
Demi gave his smooth, little hand readily, and the league was made;for in the happy, peaceful world where the younger boy lived, lionsand lambs played together, and little children innocently taught theirelders.
"Hush!" said Dan, pointing toward the house, as Demi was about toindulge in another discourse on the best way of getting badness down,and keeping it down; and peeping from their perch, they saw Mrs. Jostrolling slowly along, reading as she went, while Teddy trotted behindher, dragging a little cart upside down.
"Wait till they see us," whispered Demi, and both sat still as the paircame nearer, Mrs. Jo so absorbed in her book that she would have walkedinto the brook if Teddy had not stopped her by saying,
"Marmar, I wanter fis."
Mrs. Jo put down the charming book which she had been trying to read fora week, and looked about her for a fishing-pole, being used to makingtoys out of nothing. Before she had broken one from the hedge, aslender willow bough fell at her feet; and, looking up, she saw the boyslaughing in the nest.
"Up! up!" cried Teddy, stretching his arms and flapping his skirts as ifabout to fly.
"I'll come down and you come up. I must go to Daisy now;" and Demideparted to rehearse the tale of the nineteen cats, with the excitingboot-and-barrel episodes.
Teddy was speedily whisked up; and then Dan said, laughing, "Come, too;there's plenty of room. I'll lend you a hand."
Mrs. Jo glanced over her shoulder, but no one was in sight; and ratherliking the joke of the thing, she laughed back, saying, "Well, if youwon't mention it, I think I will;" and with two nimble steps was in thewillow.
"I haven't climbed a tree since I was married. I used to be very fondof it when I was a girl," she said, looking well-pleased with her shadyperch.
"Now, you read if you want to, and I'll take care of Teddy," proposedDan, beginning to make a fishing-rod for impatient Baby.
"I don't think I care about it now. What were you and Demi at up here?"asked Mrs. Jo, thinking, from the sober look on Dan's face, that he hadsomething on his mind.
"Oh! we were talking. I'd been telling him about leaves and things, andhe was telling me some of his queer plays. Now, then, Major, fish away;"and Dan finished off his work by putting a big blue fly on the bent pinwhich hung at the end of the cord he had tied to the willow-rod.
Teddy leaned down from the tree, and was soon wrapt up in watchingfor the fish which he felt sure would come. Dan held him by his littlepetticoats, lest he should take a "header" into the brook, and Mrs. Josoon won him to talk by doing so herself.
"I am so glad you told Demi about 'leaves and things;' it is just whathe needs; and I wish you would teach him, and take him to walk withyou."
"I'd like to, he is so bright; but--"
"But what?"
"I didn't think you'd trust me."
"Why not?"
"Well, Demi is so kind of precious, and so good, and I'm such a bad lot,I thought you'd keep him away from me."
"But you are not a 'bad lot,' as you say; and I do trust you, Dan,entirely, because you honestly try to improve, and do better and betterevery week."
"Really?" and Dan looked up at her with the cloud of despondency liftingfrom his face.
"Yes; don't you feel it?"
"I hoped so, but I didn't know."
"I have been waiting and watching quietly, for I thought I'd give you agood trial first;
and if you stood it, I would give you the best rewardI had. You have stood it well; and now I'm going to trust not only Demi,but my own boy, to you, because you can teach them some things betterthan any of us."
"Can I?" and Dan looked amazed at the idea.
"Demi has lived among older people so much that he needs just what youhave knowledge of common things, strength, and courage. He thinks youare the bravest boy he ever saw, and admires your strong way of doingthings. Then you know a great deal about natural objects, and can tellhim more wonderful tales of birds, and bees, and leaves, and animals,than his story-books give him; and, being true, these stories will teachand do him good. Don't you see now how much you can help him, and why Ilike to have him with you?"
"But I swear sometimes, and might tell him something wrong. I wouldn'tmean to, but it might slip out, just as 'devil' did a few minutes ago,"said Dan, anxious to do his duty, and let her know his shortcomings.
"I know you try not to say or do any thing to harm the little fellow,and here is where I think Demi will help you, because he is so innocentand wise in his small way, and has what I am trying to give you, dear,good principles. It is never too early to try and plant them in a child,and never too late to cultivate them in the most neglected person. Youare only boys yet; you can teach one another. Demi will unconsciouslystrengthen your moral sense, you will strengthen his common sense, and Ishall feel as if I had helped you both."
Words could not express how pleased and touched Dan was by thisconfidence and praise. No one had ever trusted him before, no one hadcared to find out and foster the good in him, and no one had suspectedhow much there was hidden away in the breast of the neglected boy, goingfast to ruin, yet quick to feel and value sympathy and help. No honorthat he might earn hereafter would ever be half so precious as the rightto teach his few virtues and small store of learning to the childwhom he most respected; and no more powerful restraint could have beenimposed upon him than the innocent companion confided to his care. Hefound courage now to tell Mrs. Jo of the plan already made with Demi,and she was glad that the first step had been so naturally taken. Everything seemed to be working well for Dan, and she rejoiced over him,because it had seemed a hard task, yet, working on with a firm belief inthe possibility of reformation in far older and worse subjects than he,there had come this quick and hopeful change to encourage her. He feltthat he had friends now and a place in the world, something to live andwork for, and, though he said little, all that was best and bravest in acharacter made old by a hard experience responded to the love and faithbestowed on him, and Dan's salvation was assured.
Their quiet talk was interrupted by a shout of delight from Teddy, who,to the surprise of every one, did actually catch a trout where no trouthad been seen for years. He was so enchanted with his splendid successthat he insisted on showing his prize to the family before Asia cookedit for supper; so the three descended and went happily away together,all satisfied with the work of that half hour.
Ned was the next visitor to the tree, but he only made a short stay,sitting there at his ease while Dick and Dolly caught a pailful ofgrasshoppers and crickets for him. He wanted to play a joke on Tommy,and intended to tuck up a few dozen of the lively creatures in his bed,so that when Bangs got in he would speedily tumble out again, and passa portion of the night in chasing "hopper-grasses" round the room. Thehunt was soon over, and having paid the hunters with a few peppermintsapiece Ned retired to make Tommy's bed.
For an hour the old willow sighed and sung to itself, talked with thebrook, and watched the lengthening shadows as the sun went down. Thefirst rosy color was touching its graceful branches when a boy camestealing up the avenue, across the lawn, and, spying Billy by thebrook-side, went to him, saying, in a mysterious tone,
"Go and tell Mr. Bhaer I want to see him down here, please. Don't letany one hear."
Billy nodded and ran off, while the boy swung himself up into the tree,and sat there looking anxious, yet evidently feeling the charm of theplace and hour. In five minutes, Mr. Bhaer appeared, and, stepping up onthe fence, leaned into the nest, saying, kindly,
"I am glad to see you, Jack; but why not come in and meet us all atonce?"
"I wanted to see you first, please, sir. Uncle made me come back. I knowI don't deserve any thing, but I hope the fellows won't be hard uponme."
Poor Jack did not get on very well, but it was evident that he was sorryand ashamed, and wanted to be received as easily as possible; for hisUncle had thrashed him well and scolded him soundly for following theexample he himself set. Jack had begged not to be sent back, but theschool was cheap, and Mr. Ford insisted, so the boy returned as quietlyas possible, and took refuge behind Mr. Bhaer.
"I hope not, but I can't answer for them, though I will see that theyare not unjust. I think, as Dan and Nat have suffered so much, beinginnocent, you should suffer something, being guilty. Don't you?" askedMr. Bhaer, pitying Jack, yet feeling he deserved punishment for a faultwhich had so little excuse.
"I suppose so, but I sent Tommy's money back, and I said I was sorry,isn't that enough?" said Jack, rather sullenly; for the boy who could doso mean a thing was not brave enough to bear the consequences well.
"No; I think you should ask pardon of all three boys, openly andhonestly. You cannot expect them to respect and trust you for a time,but you can live down this disgrace if you try, and I will help you.Stealing and lying are detestable sins, and I hope this will be a lessonto you. I am glad you are ashamed, it is a good sign; bear it patiently,and do your best to earn a better reputation."
"I'll have an auction, and sell off all my goods dirt cheap," said Jack,showing his repentance in the most characteristic way.
"I think it would be better to give them away, and begin on a newfoundation. Take 'Honesty is the best policy' for your motto, and liveup to it in act, and word, and thought, and though you don't make a centof money this summer, you will be a rich boy in the autumn," said Mr.Bhaer, earnestly.
It was hard, but Jack consented, for he really felt that cheating didn'tpay, and wanted to win back the friendship of the boys. His heart clungto his possessions, and he groaned inwardly at the thought of actuallygiving away certain precious things. Asking pardon publicly was easycompared to this; but then he began to discover that certain otherthings, invisible, but most valuable, were better property than knives,fish-hooks, or even money itself. So he decided to buy up a littleintegrity, even at a high price, and secure the respect of hisplaymates, though it was not a salable article.
"Well, I'll do it," he said, with a sudden air of resolution, whichpleased Mr. Bhaer.
"Good! and I'll stand by you. Now come and begin at once."
And Father Bhaer led the bankrupt boy back into the little world, whichreceived him coldly at first, but slowly warmed to him, when he showedthat he had profited by the lesson, and was sincerely anxious to go intoa better business with a new stock-in-trade.