Maid Sally
CHAPTER IX.
THE PARSON
Sally had slept but a little while when something hit her arm, which wasstretched out, and lifting her head, she heard a startled cry.
"Lorr de massy, chile! You nearly scare de bref outen my body!" andthere was Mammy Leezer, whose staff had touched her arm before the oldwoman saw her from the side of a tree.
It took but a look or two to see Sally's swollen eyes and flushedcheeks.
"Now what a-matter, honey?" asked the soothing old voice. "I come overhere in de woods fo' some big burdock leaves I knew was here, and Isoaks dem in winegar fo' to quiet de mis'ry in my bones. But what grieveyou? Tell ole Mammy all 'bout it."
Sally shivered with a sob that came before she could keep it back, thenshe simply said that she had wanted to study, and some one was willingto teach her, but that Mistress Brace would not allow it.
Mammy put on the cunning look that meant a good deal.
"Oh, now doan't go bursting yo' poor lil heart over dat," she crooned,"p'raps yous'll be gettin' de schoolin' after all."
"You don't know Mistress Brace," said Sally, with a sad little smile.
"No, I doan't berry much," said Mammy, in a voice that swelled, "but Imight be gettin' to knowin' her better one o' dese days." And shehobbled away, a broad grin on her round face.
When beyond Shady Path, Mammy was delighted to see Mistress Bracestriding along, a market basket on her arm.
Now Mammy knew not the first thing about the money that Sally's fatherhad left for his little girl. But she did know that he had boarded in anice house at Jamestown Corners when Mistress Brace lived there, thathe had appeared to have plenty of money, and that his little girl worethe nicest of clothes.
All this she heard long ago from a colored woman who lived at JamestownCorners, and would sometimes stop at the quarters at Ingleside.
The dark woman had shaken her head in dismal fashion after MistressBrace removed first to the Flats, and then to Slipside Row, keeping thechild with her, and she would say:
"I wonder whar Mars' Dukeen's money all go to, for he had money, shor!"
This rushed into Mammy's mind as Mistress Brace drew near, but she saidin her sweet singsong:
"Good evening, mistis, whar de lil one to-night?"
"Who, Sally?" asked Mistress Cory Ann, eying Mammy with a hard, sidelongglance, "I'm sure I don't know where she is."
"Le's see," began Mammy, standing still, "didn' some one say she weregoin' to de dame school or sumpin o' that kind? Seems to me I heerd itsomewhar. And she oughter go, too! Her pappy--I know all 'bout herpappy--he meant his lil girl should have learnin' with de best, and oh,de gracious me! such tings as happens to folks as cheats chillern outentheir schoolin'!"
Mammy looked around with a fearful air as she added:
"Why, if ennybody try to keep dat young Mars' Lion from learnin' all hewant to, de plagues and de torments that come upon dem!"
She went muttering away, leaving Mistress Cory Ann wishing that she wason the ocean with her "Mars' Lion." But for all that, her words sunkinto Mistress Brace's mind and troubled her, nor could she forget them.
Yet two afternoons of the week she determined Sally should not have. Butshe said to her the next morning that, after thinking things over, shewould spare her one afternoon a week, but it must be whenever it wasmost convenient.
To her surprise Sally replied that she must go on Wednesday andSaturday afternoons, or not at all.
"Then it's not at all you'll go!" cried the angry mistress, "andremember, the Town House is not far away!"
"What will you do now?" asked her good Fairy, when Sally was alone.
"I do not quite know," Sally made reply, "I must think it out."
When Wednesday came Sally went to her attic room after dinner, butMistress Brace took no notice of it. So very quiet had been Maid Sallyduring the few days past that Mistress Cory Ann thought all had beengiven up as to books and schooling.
But now Sally put on the print dress, coaxed down her shining hair, puton her shoes, and slipping out without a word to Mistress Brace, shestarted for the home of the schoolmistress.
She never forgot the pleasure of that first afternoon at the prettycottage. A canary-bird was trilling songs in a cage hung out on theporch. In the sitting-room, the old mother greeted her from herhigh-backed, cushioned rocking-chair. The old dame used fine language,and the books, pictures, and solid furniture, everything simple butnice, seemed in a way to belong to the world that Sally herself belongedto.
"You see you don't know just who you are," whispered her Fairy, "but donot mind that, all may be known in good time."
But when Mistress Kent returned from her sister's, and the mother saidthat Sally had been a good, likely child, and had given her aseed-cake,--Sally was afraid to go home.
So she wandered about, ate the seed-cake for her supper, then, seeingthe gate open that led to Parson Kendall's orchard, she peeped in,noticing a wide, rustic chair under a broad tree.
"I wonder if that might be a comfortable chair to rest in awhile,"murmured the child, and just to try it she slipped along the green.
Yes, the back came high above her head, and as she sat wondering how sheshould ever go to Slipside Row and meet Mistress Cory Ann, she slid offto Dreamland, her pretty head drooping to one side, her rosy lipsparted.
Then as it grew later, but was still quite light, good Parson Kendallwalked out in his orchard, and in his walk stopped before the rusticseat under the branching tree.
"What a personable child it is!" he muttered. "Some youthful wayfarerwell tired out. I wonder who she may be? I know not her countenance atall."
When Sally opened her eyes, oh! oh! oh! there stood the parson, in blackcoat, black waistcoat, black knee-breeches, black stockings, and soberface.
Little people were much afraid of the parson in those days, and in facthe was held in high respect, if not some fear, by people all, and Sallywould almost have fallen from the chair in fright, only that ParsonKendall's voice was soft and kind, as he asked:
"Prithee, little one, where is thy home, and art thou very tired?"
"Speak up!" cried her Fairy, "tell the truth."
"I was afraid to go home, sir," said Sally.
"Hast thou done wrong, my child?"
"I meant not to do wrong," said Sally, "but I ran away."
"Ah, how was that? Tell me the truth about it."
And trembling in every limb, with eyes cast down, poor little Sallystammered out the whole story: her longing, her determination, her finechance, Mistress Brace's refusal to let her go, and now her fear ofreturning home.
"I will go with thee to Slipside Row," said the parson, "and do notfear, thou shalt not suffer in any way."
And now again, had Sally been a well-taught child, she would have knownhow mean a thing it was to listen to what might be said in thekeeping-room. But when the parson said to Mistress Cory Ann, "I wouldhave speech with thee, Mistress Brace," up crept Sally to a room overthe keeping-room, and lying flat on the floor, with her ear to a largecrack under the window, she could hear nearly all that was said.
Sally had been surprised at the many low curtseys Mistress Cory Ann madewhen the parson came up to the door, and at the look of fear that hadcome over her face. Yes, Mistress Brace had indeed looked afraid!
Now Sally heard Parson Kendall say:
"But had you any right to make of the child almost a servant when shewas left so sadly alone?"
"It was that or the Town House," said Mistress Brace, shortly.
"Perhaps not," said the parson's calm, firm voice; "our town sendeth notall to the Town House who are poor or unfortunate. Had her father nofriends? And was there no money left?"
"I know nothing of her father's friends," said Mistress Brace, "and asto money, very little there was of that, and it has been spent on thegirl."
Ah, but the woman's voice had trembled when she spoke of the money, andher face grew very red, so that the parson, knowing something must bewrong, s
aid, sternly:
"I had better lay the case before the burgesses. If the little wench sogreatly desireth knowledge, then knowledge she should have. It is myduty to look after an orphan child of my parish, who seemeth not to behaving the chances she should have."
The dreadful word "burgesses," meaning the men in power, and whogoverned the colonies, frightened both Mistress Brace and Maid Sally,and very glad was Sally when Mistress Cory Ann exclaimed:
"There be no need, parson, to trouble any of the burgesses! Here thegirl has been, here she can stay. If she so much has set her heart onlearning, then go she can to Mistress Kent and earn her schooling as themistress has planned. But I like it not that the girl should run away,not telling me whither she was going."
"She said all was explained, but that you refused to enter into theplan," said the parson.
"I did not fully understand about it," said Mistress Brace, and so mildwas her tone that Sally was again much surprised. "Let things take theircourse," she added, "and twice a week the girl can go where she likesand I will lay no rule against it. Then she can still help betimes."
"We will leave it that way for the present," said the parson, as heseemed to be rising to go, "but no blame is to be laid upon the childfor telling what she did. I saw that she was in trouble and asked thecause. She did no wrong to answer truthfully. I shall now feel it myduty to see that the young maid hath a fair chance to learn what goodMistress Kent knoweth full well how to impart. I wish thee good day,Mistress Brace."
Sally scudded away, her eyes fairly dancing with joy.
"Fairy! O Fairy!" she cried under her breath, "a fine dream has cometrue! I shall go to Mistress Kent and learn! learn! learn! Blessings onthee, good parson! I would like to thank thee."
"Be wise and let not any one know what you have overheard," warned herFairy.
"Indeed, I shall know nothing at all," laughed Sally, "until MistressCory Ann says to me I can go schooling twice a week;" and Sally's eyessparkled like fire.
When Saturday came, but not until then, Mistress Cory Ann said, with ascornful toss of her head:
"Since you think it so fine a thing to dabble in books, and choose tofill your head with what others have got along plenty well without, Icare not where you go this afternoon, but mind you show smartness atother times, or the twice-a-week trips will cease."
That was all, and that was enough. Sally knew now that her pet dream wasto work itself out beautifully.
She had a few pence earned by mending, and at Goodman Chatfield's storeshe begged to know if ninepence would buy a decent pair of stockings.
"Indeed, no, a shilling is the least that will buy stockings of anykind," said storeman Chatfield, who in very truth liked to chatter. "ButI am much wanting an errand done at the Cloverlove plantation, and ifyou would do it, I will, with the ninepence, give a pair of hosen thatwill stand you well."
It was half a mile to Cloverlove plantation, and half a mile back, butSally gladly did the errand, and ran home happy as any bird with a smartnew pair of stockings tucked under her arm.