Silly was by no means a promising pupil, her breaking in requiring the breaking up of many dishes and the exercise of much patience.
She was abrupt and jerking in her motion, except when she walked; then she seemed afraid of damaging carpets, not having been accustomed to them, and walked on tiptoe, which peculiar footfall caused the heels of her slip-shod shoes to drop with a clap-clap-clap, as she crossed the oil-cloth on the floor of the dining-room. Her clothes hung loosely on her, and as she entered the room her arms were stuck stiff at her side, her mouth wide open, and her eyes staring as though she expected to hear some dreadful news.
Silly, said Mrs. Thompson, get the covered basket.
Yes, marm, said Silly, and darted for the door.
Stop, stop, child; Ive not finished.
Silly darted back again.
I want you to get the covered basket, and take some things over to Mrs. Sleeper.
Yes marm; and the girl darted for the door a second time.
Silly, stop this instant! What in the world are you thinking of?
The covered basket, marm; its in the pantry.
Silly, when I have finished what I want to say, I will tell you to go.
Then you dont want the covered basket, marm?
Get the covered basket, put in it the ham that was left at dinner, a pair of chickens I cooked this morning, a couple of mince pies, and a loaf of bread. Do you understand?
Yes marm. Basket, ham, chickens, mince pie, bread, said Silly, briskly.
Very well. Those are for Mrs. Sleeper, with my compliments.
Yes marm. Basket and all?
Bring back the basket, of course. Now go
Yes, marm; and Silly made a third dart doorward.
Stop, stop, Silly!
You told me to go when you said go; and I was a going to go.
That was my mistake, Silly. I want you to go to the pantry, get a bottle of currant wine, a jar of damson preserves, and a box of sardines. Can you find them all?
O, yes, marm. Currant wine, damson preserves, sardines.
Very well. Be careful in handling things. Those are for Aunt Hulda, with my compliments. Make no mistake, and be sure to tell her I sent them. Now, Silly, go.
Silly started at the word go so forcibly that she ran plump against the portly form of the captain, who just then entered.
Hang it! roared he; why dont you see where you are going, stupid?
Stupid stopped not to tell the reason why, but darted by the captain: and soon a commotion among the dishes in the pantry made it evident that Silly was handling things none to carefully.
Wheres that crazy thing going now? muttered the captain, as he stalked to the window.
On one of my errands, Paul; so dont be inquisitive.
Had he dreamed that Aunt Huldas defence of his boy had turned his wifes sympathies in her direction, and that there was likely to be a shower of goodies poured into the spinsters lap, he might have been inquisitive, instead of shouting at that particular moment,
Hang it! theres that boy again! and with my apples, too! He shant escape me this time. No, no. And the captain darted from the room, and out into the road, bare-headed.
Teddy Sleeper had waited two hours, in the woods behind the orchard the return of Becky, supposing that, as she was the leader of the expedition, after decoying the captain to a safe distance, she would return to rescue her follower; for Teddy had not sufficient reliance on his own skill to venture either an attack or a retreat. At last, getting weary, he crept out into the lane, and from there into the main street, and started for home. But as he neared the church he was waylaid by a half a dozen of his cronies, just returning from a game of base ball, and, of course, very hungry. Catching sight of the fruit stowed away in Teddys jacket, they set up a roar of delight, and surrounded him.
Hooray! Teds made a haul!
Divys the thing hey, Ted?
O, come, Ted, dont be mean.
But they aint mine; theyre Beckys, said Teddy, warding off the snatches at his plunder as best he could with his elbows.
Beckys are they? Hooray! She wont care. Divy, Ted. Shes the best fellow in town.
Teddy had about made up his mind to unbosom himself to his captors, when he caught sight of the bareheaded captain emerging from the door. A shiver ran through him. Hardly a chance for escape now. Nevertheless he darted round the corner at a lively pace, and down the hill. The disappointed boys, not having seen the captain, but supposing Teddy was attempting to escape from them, set up a yell, and started in pursuit. But Teddy had made a good start, and fear lent unwonted activity to his legs. So, down the hill they went, Teddy ahead, the boys close at his heels, and the captain dashing on behind.
With such a load as he carried, Teddy could not long keep up his gallant pace, and his pursuers rapidly gained upon him. He was almost to the bridge, and there was Becky cheering and clapping her hands. If he could only reach her, he felt he was safe. With a quick impulse, he drew two apples from his bosom, and threw them over his head. The foremost boy stopped suddenly to pick them up. On a down grade, too! The result was appalling. In an instant he was on the ground, with his companions piled upon him. A pitfall in the path of the irate captain. His ponderous body launched itself upon the heap, and great was the fall thereof. Screams, groans, and dirt filled the air as Teddy reached the bridge. The vanquished picked themselves up as best they could, without a thought of further pursuit, while the conquering heroes marched up the hill, to make, in some secure retreat, a fair division of the spoils.
CHAPTER IV.
BECKY SLEEPERS CHARITY
Remember the Sabbath day, to keep it holy, was a precept by no means religiously observed at the little brown house on the hill. Mrs. Sleeper had never been a regular attendant at divine service, even in her happiest days, and, since her peculiar misfortune, had almost entirely neglected the church. A part of the day was regularly spent in poring over the letters of her husband, the effect of which was to set her weeping for the balance. The young people, left to their own devices, amused themselves by pitching quates behind the house, playing tag in the barn, or by indulgence in other equally indecorous sports endeavored to wear out the long day. Aunt Hulda generally brought forth from their resting-place at the bottom of her trunk The Family Physician, or Every Woman her own Doctor, two standard works for the cure of all diseases, and faithfully consulting them for remedies to meet her infirmities, or, from old habit, took the ponderous family Bible into her lap, and in its pages sought consolation, the Book of Job, however, being the portion which really soothed her perturbed spirit.
On the Sunday following the disaster on the hill, the afflicted spinster, in the sitting-room, was groaning over a treatise on cancer, in The Family Physician, that disease being the order of the day in her system of complaints. It was near the middle of the afternoon, and Becky, having exhausted the supply of out-door sports, was lying upon the sofa, and, with a very dissatisfied look upon her face, was watching Aunt Hulda. Teddy, who seldom lost sight of his sister, was flattening his nose against the window-pane.
Aunt Hulda, said Becky, suddenly, dont you think Sunday is an awful long day?
I do, by hokey! blurted out Teddy. Cant get up no fun, nor nothin. Id like to go a fishin first rate; but jest as you git a nibble, long comes some the meetin-house folks, and begin to talk about breakin the Sabbath. And that jest scares off all the fish.
And the fishermen, too, Teddy. My sakes, how you did run last Sunday when Deacon Hill caught you fishing down at the fore side! said Becky, with a laugh.
Plague take him! he jest marched off with my line and bait, too, growled Teddy. Its none of his business, anyhow.
All days are long to a poor, afflicted creeter, groaned Aunt Hulda. But when I was a girl of your age, I did think Sunday was as long as six week-days beat into one; but then its the Lords day, and I spose, after all, we can make it long or short, just as we try to do what he wants us to.
Well, Id like to know what he wants me to do, for I cant find out any way to make it short. Its just hateful, and I wish there wasnt any such day, replied Becky, turning restlessly about.
Why, Rebecca Sleeper, how can you talk so? One of the things he wants folks to do is to go to meetin regular. You ought to know that well enough.
Does he? said Becky, with a mischievous twinkle in her eye. Seems to me, Aunt Hulda, you dont mind very well.
Lor, child, Im a poor, afflicted creeter. He dont expect me to do much but bear my troubles patiently; and Im sure I do that, said Aunt Hulda, forcing a look of resignation into her face.
Dont think much of goin to meetin anyhow, said Teddy. They always pokes us up in the gallery, and wont let us go to sleep; and if old Fox, the sexton, ketches a feller firin spitballs, he jest whacks him on the head.
Then there are other ways to make the day short readin the Bible and other good books.
Yes; Family Physician, I spose, said Teddy. I jest wish I had Robinson Crusoe: thats a first rate one.
Then a goin to see sick folks, and carryin em little dainties, is another; and that makes the day short, I tell you, continued Aunt Hulda. When I was a helpin Mrs. Lincoln, years and years ago, she used to say to me Sunday afternoons, Hulda, dont you want to clap on your bonnet and run over to the widder Starns with the basket? or, Hulda, dont you want to carry this jelly round to Mr. Peters? Hes terrible sick. And I used to go and go, and never feel a bit tired, because it was charitable work; and Sundays used to go quicker than week-days, and I was glad when they come round again. Now theres poor Mr. York, Silly Yorks father; poor man, hes most gone with the consumption; now, if you only had a nice little bit of somethin good to take over to him, you dont know how good you would feel, and how the time would fly! O, dear, if I was only strong and well! But whats the use of talkin? Here Ive got the rheumatics so I cant walk, and the neuralogy so I cant sit still, and Im afraid theres a cancer comin on the end of my tongue, and then I cant talk.
Here Aunt Hulda ran out her tongue, and commenced exploring it with her finger to find a small pimple which had made its appearance that day. Becky lay very quiet on the sofa, watching Aunt Hulda, who, after the examination of her tongue, plunged into The Family Physician with anxious interest.
Did she ever delight in doing good? thought Becky, as she studied Aunt Huldas face with renewed interest. Everybody calls her a nuisance, and everybody laughs at her complaints. She take nice things to sick folks, and feel good in doing it! And she says this is the Lords day this long, weary day, and can be made short and pleasant like the other six! Why, she talks like a minister!
Aunt Hulda was a new being in the girls eyes. She began to reverence the afflicted spinster. She lay there so quiet that Teddy looked round in astonishment. His sister had been lying perfectly still for fifteen minutes. Such an occurrence startled him.
Becky, whats the matter? Sick hey?
No, Teddy, replied Becky, startled in turn; Im thinking thats all.
Dont do it. Twill make you sick see if it dont.
I guess not, Teddy, replied Becky, jumping up. Im going into the kitchen.
Teddy followed her as she left the room.
Teddy, said Becky, solemnly, after she had softly closed the kitchen door behind them, I expect were awful wicked.
Do you, though? said Teddy, with staring eyes. What for?
Because Sundays such a long day. Didnt you hear what Aunt Hulda said? Its the Lords day, and we can make it short or long, just as we try to do what he wants us to.
Well, whats he want us to do?
To go to church, and not stay at home and pitch quates.
How are we goin to church without cloes? My elbows are all out; sos my knees. Theyd send us home quick, I tell you.
I suppose they would, replied Becky, thoughtfully. Well, theres one thing we might do carry something nice to sick folks.
We aint got nothin nice, and dont know any sick folks, replied matter-of-fact Teddy, who failed to see anything time-shortening in Beckys project.
We know Mr. York, whos got the consumption.
Well, we might go and catch some fish and take to him only Ive lost my line.
No; something better than that, Teddy. Now you run and get a basket. I know what to take.
Teddy went into the wood-shed and soon returned with a very dilapidated basket.
That will do nicely. Now lets see what we can find to put into it, said Becky, as she opened the door of the cupboard. Heres a bottle of currant wine; I guess thats good for consumption; well take that. And heres a jar of preserves; they always give them to sick folks; well take that. And heres a box of sardines. I dont know about that. Well, well take it, any way.
Why, Becky, these things are what Mrs. Thompson sent to Aunt Hulda, said Teddy, a little alarmed at Beckys proceedings.
So they are; and Becky wavered a moment. No matter; shell send her some more, I guess. Besides, Aunt Hulda wont care, for were going to do good with them. Theres a pair of chickens, too; but I guess theyre most too hearty for sick folks. Now lets be off.
With the basket between them, they crept into the wood-shed, from there into a pasture behind the house, crossed that, climbed a fence, and struck into the Foxtown road. The Yorks lived upon this road, a good mile and a half from Mrs. Sleepers. The basket was a heavy, unwieldy affair, in which the good things bounced about in a very unsatisfactory manner; and the couple changed hands many times before they reached their destination.
In answer to Beckys knock, the door was opened by Mrs. York, a short, buxom woman with a very pleasant face.
Becky Sleeper of all things! What in the world brought you here? and what have you got there?
Thought wed come over and bring something to Mr. York. Hes sick aint he? answered Becky.
Why, you good little soul! Come right in; my poor man will be dreadful glad to see you.
Becky and Teddy accepted the cordial invitation, and were ushered into the presence of the poor man. Mr. York was by no means so far gone as people imagined. True, there were about him symptoms of the dread disease which New England makes a specialty; but he was a very lazy man, and took advantage of any slight cold to house himself and be nursed by his wife. Mrs. York was not an idle woman; she washed, ironed, and scrubbed in the neighborhood, when her husband worked at his trade; the moment he felt bad she dropped all outside labor, and gave her attention to him, magnifying his troubles by her sympathy, and thus making a baby of a man who was strong enough to support his family, had he the inclination. Of course, in this state of affairs, there was no income, and the active charity of Cleverly had a loud call in that direction.