WITHIN the church wonderful things were going on. Jerry had caught sight of Norm as he slipped up the gallery stairs, and laid his plans accordingly. He whispered to Nettie during the singing of the closing hymn, thereby shocking her a little. Jerry did not often whisper in church.
This was what he said: "Don't you need those lilies to help trim the room to-morrow night? Let's take them home."
The moment the "amen" was spoken, he dashed out, and was at the stair door as Norm came down.
"Norm," he said, "won't you help me carry home that tray? We want the flowers for something special to-morrow."
Said Norm, "O bother! I can't help tote that heavy thing through the streets."
"What's that?" asked Rick; and when the explanation was briefly made, he added the little word of advice which so often turns the scales.
"Ho! that isn't much to do when you are going that very road. I'd do as much as that, any day, for the little chap who gave us such a tall row." This last was in undertone.
"Well," said Norm, "I don't care; I'll help; but how are we going to get the things out here?"
"Come inside," answered Jerry; "we can wait in the back seat. They will all be gone in a few minutes, then we can step up and get the salver."
Once inside the church, the rest followed easily. Mr. Sherrill who had eyes for all that was going on, came forward swiftly and held a cordial hand to Norm.
"Good-evening," he said; "I am glad to see you accepted my invitation. How did our work look by gaslight?"
"It looked," said Norm, a roguish twinkle in his eye, "it looked just as I expected it would; crooked. That there arch at the left of the pulpit wants to be hung as much as two inches lower to match the other."
"You don't say so!" said the minister, in good-humored surprise. "Does it appear so from the gallery? Are my eyes as crooked as that? Let us go up gallery and see if I can discover it."
So to the gallery they went, Norm clearing the space with a few bounds, and taking a triumphant station where he could point out the defect to the minister.
"That is true," Mr. Sherrill said, with hearty frankness. "You are right and I was wrong. If I had taken your word last night the wreaths would have looked better, wouldn't they? Well, perhaps wreaths are not the only things which show crooked when we get higher up and look down on them. Eh, my friend?"
Norm laughed a good-humored, rather embarrassed laugh. It was remarkable that he should be up here holding a chatty, almost gay, conversation with the minister. There came over him the wish that he had behaved himself better during the service. That he had not whispered so much, nor nudged Rick's elbow to make him laugh, just at the moment that the minister's eye was fixed on them. He had a half-fancy that if the evening were to be lived over again, he wouldgo down below and sit up straight and show this man that he could behave as well as anybody if he were a mind to.
Not a word about the laughing and whispering said the minister. But he said a thing which startled Norm.
"My sister has a fancy for having the church adorned with wreaths or strings of asters in contrasting colors for next Sabbath; will you make an appointment with me to help hang them on Saturday evening? I'll promise to follow your eye to the half-inch."
Norm started, flushed, looked into the frank face and laughed a little, then seeing that the answer was waited for said: "Why, I don't care if I do, if you honestly want it."
"I honestly want it," said the minister in great satisfaction. Then they went downstairs.
Job Smith and his wife were gone.
"I will wait for my brother," said Nettie, and her heart swelled with pride as she said it.
How nice to have a brother to wait for, just as Miss Sherrill was doing. At that moment the "beautiful lady" as Sate and Susie called her, came to Nettie's side.
"Good-evening," she said pleasantly. "I hopethe little girls are well; I met your brother last night; he helped my brother to hang the flowers. I see they are upstairs together now, admiring their work. My brother said he was a very intelligent helper. You do not know how much I thank you for those flowers. They helped me to sing to-night."
"I thought," said Nettie, raising her great truthful eyes to the lady's face and speaking with an earnestness that showed she felt what she said, "I thought you sang as though the angels were helping you. I don't think they can sing any sweeter."
"Thank you," said Miss Sherrill; she smiled as she spoke, yet there were tears in her eyes; the honest, earnest tribute seemed very unlike a little girl, and very unlike the usual way of complimenting her wonderful voice. "I saw that you liked music," she said, "I noticed you while I was singing. Will you let me give you a couple of tickets for the concert to-morrow evening; and will you and your brother come to hear me sing? I am going to sing something that I think you will like."
Nettie went home behind the lilies and the boys, her heart all in a flutter of delight. Whata wonderful thing had come to her! The concert for which the best singers in town had been so long practising, and for which the tickets were fifty cents apiece, and which she had no more expected to attend than she had expected to hear the real angels sing that week, was to take place to-morrow evening, and she had two tickets in her pocket!
Mrs. Decker was waiting for them, her nose pressed against the glass; she started forward to open the door for the boys, before Nettie could reach it. There was such a look of relief on her face when she saw Norm as ought to have gone to his very heart; but he did not see it; he was busy settling the salver in a safe place.
"Has father come in?" Nettie asked, as she followed her mother to the back step, where she went for the dipper at Norm's call.
"Yes, child, he has, and went straight to bed. He didn't say two words; but he wasn't cross; and he hadn't drank a drop, I believe."
"Mother," said Nettie, standing on tiptoe to reach the tall woman's ear, and speaking in an awe-stricken whisper, "father was in church!"
"For the land of pity!" said Mrs. Decker, speaking low and solemnly.
And all through the next morning's meal, which was an unusually quiet one, she waited on her husband with a kind of respectful reverence, which if he had noticed, might have bewildered him. It seemed to her that the event of the evening before had lifted him into a higher world than hers, and that she could not tell now, what might happen.
The event of the day was the concert; all other plans were set aside for that. At first Norm scoffed and declared that his ticket might be used to light the fire with, for all he cared; he didn't want to go to one of their "swell" concerts. But this talk Nettie laughed over good-naturedly, as though it were intended for a joke, and continued her planning as to when to have supper, and just when she and Norm must start.
In the course of the day, that young man discovered it to be a fine thing to own tickets for this special concert. Before noon tickets were at a premium, and several of Norm's fellow-workmen gayly advised him to make an honest penny by selling his. During the early morning it had been delicately hinted by one young fellow that Norm Decker's tickets were made of tissuepaper, which was his way of saying, that he did not believe that Norm had any; but, thanks to Nettie's thoughtful tact, the tickets were at that very moment reposing in her brother's pocket, and he drew them forth in triumph, wanting to know if anybody saw any tissue paper about those. Good stiff green pasteboard with the magic words on them which would admit two people to what was considered on all sides the finest entertainment of the sort the town had ever enjoyed.
"Where did you get 'em, Norm? Come, tell us, that's a good fellow. You was never so green as to go and pay a dollar for two pieces of pasteboard."
"They are complimentaries," said Norm, tossing off a shaving with a careless air, as though complimentary tickets to first-class concerts were every-day affairs with him.
"Complimentary? My eyes, aren't we big!" (I am very sorry that the boys in Norm's shop used these slang phrases; but I want to say this for them: it was because they had never been taught better. Not one of them had mother or father who were grieved by such words; some of them were so truly good-hearted that I believeif such had been the case, they would never have used them again; and I wish the same might be said of all boys with cultured and careful mothers.)
"How did you get 'em? Been selling tickets for the show, or piling chairs, or what?"
"I haven't done a living thing for one of them," said Norm composedly; and Ben Halleck came to his rescue.
"That's so, boys; or, at least if he had, it wouldn't done him no good. They don't pay for this show in any such way. The fellows that carried around bills were paid in money because they said they expected seats would be scarce; and they didn't sell no tickets around the streets. Them that wanted them had to go to the book-store and buy them. Oh, I tell you, it's a big thing. I wouldn't mind going myself if I could be complimented through. You see that Sherrill girl who lives at the new minister's is a most amazing singer, and they say everybody wants to hear her."
By this time Norm's mind was fully made up that he would go to the concert. It is a pity Nettie could not have known it. For despite the cheerful courage with which she receivedNorm's disagreeable statements in the morning, she was secretly very much afraid that he would not go. This would have been a great trial to her, for her little soul was as full of music as possible; and the thought of hearing that wonderful voice so soon again filled her with delight; but she was a timid little girl so far as appearing among strangers was concerned, and the idea of going alone to a concert was not to be thought of. Her mother proposed Jerry for company, but he had gone with Job Smith into the country and was not likely to return until too late. So Nettie made her little preparations with a troubled heart. There was something more to it than simply hearing fine music; it would be so like other girls whom she knew, so like the dreams of home she had indulged in while at Auntie Marshall's—this going out in the evening attended and cared for by her brother.
Norm ate his dinner in haste, and was silent and almost gruff; nobody knows why. I have often wondered why even well brought up boys, seem sometimes to like to appear more disagreeable than at heart they are.
But by six o'clock the much-thought-about brother appeared, his face pleasant enough.
"Well, Nannie," he said, "got your fusses and fixings all ready?"
And Nettie with beating heart and laughing eyes assured him that she would be all ready in good time, and that she had laid his clean shirt on his bed, and a clean handkerchief, and brushed his coat.
"Yes; and she ironed your shirt with her own hands," explained his mother, "and the bosom shines like a glass bottle."
"O bother!" said Norm. "I don't want a clean shirt."
But he went to his attic directly after supper and put on the shirt, and combed his hair, and rubbed his boots with Jerry's brush which he went around the back way and borrowed of Mrs. Job Smith before he came in to supper.
He had noticed how very neat and pretty Nettie looked as she walked down the church isle beside him the night before; and he had also noticed Jerry's shining boots.
His mother noticed his the moment he came down stairs. "How nice you two do look!" she said admiringly; and then the two walked away well pleased. It was a wonderful concert. Norm had not known that he was particularlyfond of music, but he owned to Rick the next day, that there was something in that Sherrill girl's voice which almost lifted a fellow out of his boots.
They had excellent seats! Nettie learned to her intense surprise that their tickets called for reserved seats. She had studied over certain mysterious numbers on the tickets, but had not understood them. It appeared also that the usher was surprised.
"Can't give you any seats," was his greeting as they presented their tickets. "Everything is full now except the reserves; you'll have to stand in the aisle; there's a good place under the gallery. Halloo! What's this? Reserved! Why, bless us, I didn't see these numbers. Come down this way; you have as nice seats as there are in the hall."
It was all delightful. Lorena Barstow and two others of the Sabbath-school class were a few seats behind them; Nettie could hear them whispering and giggling, and for a few minutes she had an uncomfortable feeling that they were laughing at her; as I am sorry to say they were.
But neither this nor anything else troubledher long, for Norm's unusual toilet having taken much longer than was planned for, they were really among the late comers; and in a very little while the music began. Oh! how wonderful it was. Neither Nettie nor Norm had ever heard really fine concert music before, and even Norm who did not know that he cared for music, felt his nerves thrill to his fingers' ends. Then, when after the first two or three pieces Miss Sherrill appeared, she was so beautiful and her voice was so wonderful that Nettie, try as hard as she did, could not keep the tears from her foolish happy eyes. I will not venture to say how much the beautiful silk dress with its long train, and the mass of soft white lace at her throat had to do with Miss Sherrill's loveliness, though I daresay if she had appeared in a twelve-cent gingham like Nettie's, she might have sang just as sweetly. Norm, however, did not believe that.
"Half of it is the fuss and feathers," he declared to Rick, next day, looking wise. And Rick made a wise answer.
"Well, when you add the handsome voice to the fuss and feathers, I s'pose they help, but I don't believe folks would go and rave so muchjust over a blue silk dress, and some gloves, and things. They all had to match, you see." So Rick, without knowing it, became a philosopher.
As for Nettie, she told her mother that the dress was just lovely, and her voice was as sweet as any angel's could possibly be; but there was a look in her eyes which was better than all the rest; and that when she sang, "Oh that I had wings, had wings like a dove!" she, Nettie, could not help feeling that they were hidden about her somewhere, and that before the song was over, she might unfold them and soar away.
"THE next thing we want to do is to earn some money."
This, Jerry said, as he sat on the side step with Nettie, after sunset. They had been having a long talk, planning the campaign against the enemy, which they had made up their minds should be carried on with vigor. At least, they had been trying to plan; but that obstacle which seems to delight to step into the midst of so many plans and overturn them, viz. money, met them at every point. So when Jerry made that emphatic announcement, Nettie was prepared to agree with him fully; but none the less did she turn anxious eyes on him as she said:
"How can we?"
"I don't know yet," Jerry said, whistling a few bars of
Oh, do not be discouraged,
and stopping in the middle of the line to answer, "But of course there is a way. There was an old man who worked for my father, who used to say so often: 'Where there's a will there's a way,' that after awhile we boys got to calling him 'Will and Way' for short, you know; his name was John," and here Jerry stopped to laugh a little over that method of shortening a name; "but it was wonderful to see how true it proved; he would make out to do the most surprising things that even my father thought sometimes could not be done. We mustmakea way to earn some money."
Nettie laughed a little. "Well, I am sure," she said, "there is a will in this case; in fact, there are two wills; for you seem to have a large one, and I know if ever I was determined to do a thing I am now; but for all that I can't think of a possible way to earn a cent."
Now Sarah Ann Smith was at this moment standing by the kitchen window, looking out on the two schemers. Her sleeves were rolled above her elbow, for she was about to set the sponge for bread; she had her large neat work apron tied over her neat dress-up calico; and on her head was perched the frame out of which,with Nettie's skilful help, and some pieces of lace from her mother's old treasure bag, she meant to make herself a bonnet every bit as pretty as the one worn by Miss Sherrill the Sabbath before.
"Talk of keeping things seven years and they'll come good," said Mrs. Smith, watching with satisfaction while Nettie tumbled over the contents of the bag in eager haste and exclaimed over this and that piece which would be "just lovely." "I've kept the rubbish in that bag going on to twenty years, just because the pretty girls where I used to do clear-starching, gave them to me. I had no kind of notion what I should ever do with them; but they looked bright and pretty, and I always was a master hand for bright colors, and so whenever they would hand out a bit of ribbon or lace, and say, 'Cerinthy, do you want that?' I was sure to say I did; and chuck it into this bag; and now to think after keeping of them for more than twenty years, my girl should be planning to make a bonnet out of them! Things is queer! I don't ever mean to throw awayanything. I never was much at throwing away; now that's a fact."
Now the truth was that Sarah Ann, left to herself, would as soon have thought of making ahouseout of the contents of that bag, as a bonnet; but Nettie Decker's deft fingers had a natural tact for all cunning contrivances in lace and silk, and her skill in copying what she saw, was something before which Sarah Ann stood in silent admiration; when, therefore, she offered to construct for Sarah Ann, out of the treasures of that bag, a bonnet which should be both becoming and economical, Sarah Ann's gratitude knew no bounds. She went that very afternoon to the milliner's to select her frame, and had it perched at that moment as I said, on her head, while she listened to the clear young voices under the window. She had a great desire to be helpful; but money was far from plenty at Job Smith's.
What was it which made her at that moment think of a bit of news which she had heard while at the milliner's? Why, nothing more remarkable than that the color of Nettie Decker's hair in the fading light was just the same as Mantie Horton's. But what made her suddenly speak her bit of news, interrupting the young planners? Ah, that Sarah Ann does not know; she only knows she felt just like saying it, so she said it.
"Mantie Horton's folks are all going to move to the city; they are selling off lots of things; I saw her this afternoon when I was at the milliner's, and she says about the only thing now that they don't know what to do with is her old hen and chickens; a nice lot of chicks as ever she saw, but of course they can't take them to the city. My! I should think they would feel dreadful lonesome without chickens, nor pigs, nor nothing!Wemight have some chickens as well as not, if we only had a place to keep 'em; enough scrapings come from the table every day, to feed 'em, most."
Before this sentence was concluded, Jerry had turned and given Nettie a sudden look as if to ask if she saw what he did; then he whistled a low strain which had in it a note of triumph; and the moment Sarah Ann paused for breath he asked: "Where do the Hortons live?"
"Why, out on the pike about a mile; that nice white house set back from the road a piece; don't you know? It is just a pleasant walk out there."
Then Sarah Ann turned away to attend to her bread, and as she did so her somewhat homely face was lighted by a smile; for an idea hadjust dawned upon her, and she chuckled over it: "I shouldn't wonder if those young things would go into business; he's got contrivance enough to make a coop, any day, and mother would let them have the scrapings, and welcome."
Sarah Ann was right; though Nettie, unused to country ways and plans, did not think of such a thing, Jerry did. The next morning he was up, even before the sun; in fact that luminary peeped at him just as he was turning into the long carriage drive which led finally to the Horton barnyard. There a beautiful sight met his eyes; a white and yellow topknot mother, and eight or ten fluffy chickens scampering about her. "They are nice and plump," said Jerry to himself; "I'm afraid I haven't money enough to buy them; but then, there is a great deal of risk in raising a brood of chickens like these; perhaps he will sell them cheap."
Farmer Horton was an early riser, and was busy about his stables when Jerry reached there. He was anxious to get rid of all his live stock, and be away as soon as possible, and here was a customer anxious to buy; so in much less time than Jerry had supposed it would take, the hen and chickens changed owners and much whistlingwas done by the new owner as he walked rapidly back to town to build a house for his family.
Mrs. Smith had been taken into confidence; so indeed had Job, before the purchase was made; but the whole thing was to be a profound surprise to Nettie. Therefore, she saw little of him that day, and I will not deny was a trifle hurt because he kept himself so busy about something which he did not share with her. But I want you to imagine, if you can, her surprise the next morning when just as she was ready to set the potatoes to frying, she heard Jerry's eager voice calling her to come and see his house.
"See what?" asked Nettie, appearing in the doorway, coffee pot in hand.
"A new house. I built it yesterday, and rented it; the family moved in last night. That is the reason I was so busy. I had to go out and help move them; and I must say they were as ill-behaved a set as I ever had anything to do with. The mother is the crossest party I ever saw; and she has no government whatever; her children scurry around just where they please."
"What are you talking about?" said astonishedNettie, her face growing more and more bewildered as he continued his merry description.
"Come out and see. It is a new house, I tell you; I built it yesterday; that is the reason I did not come to help you about the bonnet. Didn't you miss me? Sarah Ann thinks it is actually nicer than the one Miss Sherrill wore." And he broke into a merry laugh, checking himself to urge Nettie once more to come out and see his treasures.
"Well," said Nettie, "wait until I cover the potatoes, and set the teakettle off." This done she went in haste and eagerness to discover what was taking place behind Job Smith's barn. A hen and chickens! Beautiful little yellow darlings, racing about as though they were crazy; and a speckled mother clucking after them in a dignified way, pretending to have authority over them, when one could see at a glance that they did exactly as they pleased.
Then came a storm of questions. "Where? and When? and Why?"
"It is a stock company concern," exclaimed Jerry, his merry eyes dancing with pleasure. Nettie was fully as astonished and pleased as hehad hoped. "Don't you know I told you yesterday we must plan a way to earn money? This is one way, planned for us.Weown Mrs. Biddy; every feather on her knot, of which she is so proud, belongs to us, and she must not only earn her own living and that of her children, but bring us in a nice profit besides. Those are plump little fellows; I can imagine them making lovely pot pies for some one who is willing to pay a good price for them. Cannot you?"
"Poor little chickens," said Nettie in such a mournful tone that Jerry went off into shouts of laughter. He was a humane boy, but he could not help thinking it very funny that anybody should sigh over the thought of a chicken pot pie.
"Oh, I know they are to eat," Nettie said, smiling in answer to his laughter, "and I know how to make nice crust for pot pie; but for all that, I cannot help feeling sort of sorry for the pretty fluffy chickens. Are you going to fat them all, to eat; or raise some of them to lay eggs?"
"I don't know whatweare going to do, yet," Jerry said with pointed emphasis on the we. "You see, we have not had time to consult; thisis a company concern, I told you. What do you think about it?"
Nettie's cheeks began to grow a deep pink; she looked down at the hurrying chickens with a grave face for a moment, then said gently: "You know, Jerry, I haven't any money to help buy the chickens, and I cannot help own what I do not help buy; they are your chickens, but I shall like to watch them and help you plan about them."
Jerry sat down on an old nail keg, crossed one foot over the other, and clasped his hands over his knees, as Job Smith was fond of doing, and prepared for argument:
"Now, see here, Nettie Decker, let us understand each other once for all; I thought we had gone into partnership in this whole business; that we were to fight that old fiend Rum, in every possible way we could; and were to help each other plan, and work all the time, and in all ways we possibly could. Now if you are tired of me and want to work alone, why, I mustn't force myself upon you."
"O, Jerry!" came in a reproachful murmur from Nettie, whose cheeks were now flaming.
"Well, what is a fellow to do? You see youhurt my feelings worse than old Mother Topknot did this morning when she pecked me; I want to belong, and I mean to; but all that kind of talk about helping to buy these half-dozen little puff-balls is all nonsense, and a girl of your sense ought to be ashamed of it."
Said Nettie, "O, Jerry, I smell the potatoes; they are scorching!" and she ran away. Jerry looked after her a moment, as though astonished at the sudden change of subject, then laughed, and rising slowly from the nail-keg addressed himself to the hen.
"Now, Mother Topknot, I want you to understand that you belong to the firm; that little woman who was just here is your mistress, and if you peck her and scratch her as you did me, this morning, it will be the worse for you. You are just like some people I have seen; haven't sense enough to know who is your best friend; why, there is no end to the nice little bits she will contrive for you and your children, if you behave yourself; for that matter, I suspect she would do it whether you behaved yourself or not; but that part it is quite as well you should not understand. I want you to bring these children up to take care of themselves, just as soonas you can; and then you are to give your attention to laying a nice fresh egg every morning; and the sooner you begin, the better we shall like it." Then he went in to breakfast.
There was no need to say anything more about the partnership. Nettie seemed to come to the conclusion that she must be ashamed of herself or her pride in the matter; and after a very short time grew accustomed to hearing Jerry talk about "Our chicks," and dropped into the fashion of caring for and planning about them. None the less was she resolved to find some way of earning a little money for her share of the stock company. Curiously enough it was Susie and little Sate who helped again. They came in one morning, with their hands full of the lovely field daisies. The moment Nettie looked at the two little faces, she knew that a dispute of some sort was in progress. Susie's lips were curved with that air of superior wisdom, not to say scorn, which she knew how to assume; and little Sate's eyes were full of the half-grieved but wholly positive look which they could wear on occasion.
"What is it?" Nettie asked, stopping on her way to the cellar with a nice little pat of batterwhich she was saving for her father's supper. Butter was a luxury which she had decided the children at least, herself included, must not expect every day.
"Why," said Susie, her eyes flashing her contempt of the whole thing, "she says these are folks; old women with caps, and eyes, and noses, and everything; she says they look at her, and some of them are pleasant, and some are cross. She is too silly for anything. They don't look the least bit in the word like old women. I told her so, fifty-eleven times, and she keeps saying it!"
Nettie held out her hand for the bunch of daisies, looked at them carefully, and laughed.
"Can't you see them?" was little Sate's eager question. "They are just as plain! Don't you see them a little bit of a speck, Nannie?"
"Of course she doesn't!" said scornful Susie. "Nobody but a silly baby like you would think of such a thing."
"I don't know," said Nettie, still smiling, "I don't think I see them as plain as Sate does, but maybe we can, after awhile; wait till I get my butter put away, and I'll put on my spectacles and see what I can find."
So the two waited, Susie incredulous and disgusted, Sate with a hopeful light in her eyes, which made Nettie very anxious to find the old ladies. On her way up stairs she felt in her pocket for the pencil Jerry had sharpened with such care the evening before; yes, it was there, and the point was safe. Jerry had made a neat little tube of soft wood for it to slip into, and so protect itself.
"Now, let us look for the old lady," she said, taking a daisy in hand and retiring to the closet window for inspection; it was the work of a moment for her fingers which often ached for such work, to fashion a pair of eyes, a nose, and a mouth; and then to turn down the white petals for a cap border, leaving two under the chin for strings!
"Does your old lady look anything like that?" she questioned, as she came out from her hiding place. Little Sate looked, and clasped her hands in an ecstacy of delight: "Look, Susie, look, quick! there she is, just as plain! O Nannie! I'msoglad you found her."
"Humph!" said Susie, "she made her with a pencil; she wasn't there at all; and there couldn't nobody have found her. So!"
And to this day, I suppose it would not be possible to make Susie Decker believe that the spirits of beautiful old ladies hid in the daisies! Some people cannot see things, you know, show them as much as you may.
But Nettie was charmed with the little old woman. She left the potatoes waiting to be washed, and sat down on the steps with eager little Sate, and made old lady after old lady. Some with spectacles, and some without. Some with smooth hair drawn quietly back from quiet foreheads, some with the old-fashioned puffs and curls which she had seen in old, old pictures of "truly" grandmothers. What fun they had! The potatoes came near being forgotten entirely. It was the faithful old clock in Mrs. Smith's kitchen which finally clanged out the hour and made Nettie rise in haste, scattering old ladies right and left. But little Sate gathered them, every one, holding them with as careful hand as though she feared a rough touch would really hurt their feelings, and went out to hunt Susie and soothe her ruffled dignity. She did not find Susie; that young woman was helping Jerry nail laths on the chicken coop; but she found her sweet-faced Sabbath-school teacher, who wassure to stop and kiss the child, whenever she passed. To her, Sate at once showed the sweet old women. "Nannie found them," she explained; "Susie could not see them at all, and she kept saying they were not there; but Nannie said she would make them look plainer so Susie could see, and now Susie thinks she made them out of a pencil; but they were there, before, I saw them."
"Oh, you quaint little darling!" said Miss Sherrill, kissing her again. "And so your sister Nettie made them plainer for you. I must say she has done it with a skilful hand. Sate dear, would you give one little old woman to me? Just one; this dear old face with puffs, I want her very much."
So Sate gazed at her with wistful, tender eyes, kissed her tenderly, and let Miss Sherrill carry her away.
She carried her straight to the minister's study, and laid her on the open page of a great black commentary which he was studying. "Did you ever see anything so cunning? That little darling of a Sate says Nannie 'found' her; she doesn't seem to think it was made, but simply developed, you know, so that commonereyes than hers could see it; that child was born for a poet, or an artist, I don't know which. Tremayne, I'm going to take this down to the flower committee, and get them to invite Nettie to make some bouquets of dear old grandmothers, and let little Sate come to the flower party and sell them. Won't that be lovely? Every gentleman there will want a bouquet of the nice old ladies in caps, and spectacles; we will make it the fashion; then they will sell beautifully, and the little merchant shall go shares on the proceeds, for the sake of her artist sister."
"It is a good idea," said the minister. "I infer from what that handsome boy Jerry has told me, that they have some scheme on hand which requires money. I am very much interested in those young people, my dear. I wish you would keep a watch on them, and lend a helping hand when you can."
THAT was the way it came about that little Sate not only, but Susie and Nettie, went to the flower party.
They had not expected to do any such thing. The little girls, who were not used to going any where, had paid no attention to the announcements on Sunday, and Nettie had heard as one with whom such things had nothing in common. Her treatment in the Sabbath-school was not such as to make her long for the companionship of the girls of her age, and by this time she knew that her dress at the flower party would be sure to command more attention than was pleasant; so she had planned as a matter of course to stay away.
But the little old ladies in their caps and spectacles springing into active life, put a new face on the matter. Certainly no more astonishedyoung person can be imagined than Nettie Decker was, the morning Miss Sherrill called on her, the one daisy she had begged still carefully preserved, and proposed her plan of partnership in the flower party.
"It will add ever so much to the fun," she explained, "besides bringing you a nice little sum for your spending money."
Did Miss Sherrill have any idea how far that argument would reach just now, Nettie wondered.
"We can dress the little girls in daisies," continued their teacher. "Little Sate will look like a flower herself, with daisies wreathed about her dress and hair."
"Little Sate will be afraid, I think," Nettie objected. "She is very timid, and not used to seeing many people."
"But with Susie she will not mind, will she? Susie has assurance enough to take her through anything. Oh, I wonder if little Sate would not recite a verse about the daisy grandmothers? I have such a cunning one for her. May I teach her, Mrs. Decker, and see if I can get her to learn it?"
Mrs. Decker's consent was very easy to gain;indeed it had been freely given in Mrs. Decker's heart before it was asked. For Miss Sherrill had not been in the room five minutes before she had said: "Your son, Norman, I believe his name is, has promised to help my brother with the church flowers this evening. My brother says he is an excellent helper; his eye is so true; they had quite a laugh together, last week. It seems one of the wreaths was not hung plumb; your son and my brother had an argument about it, and it was finally left as my brother had placed it, but was out of line several inches. He was obliged to admit that if he had followed Norman's direction it would have looked much better." After that, it would have been hard for Miss Sherrill to have asked a favor which Mrs. Decker would not grant if she could.Shesaw through it all; these people were in league with Nettie, to try to save her boy. What wasn't she ready to do at their bidding!
There was but one thing about which she was positive. The little girls could not go without Nettie; they talked it over in the evening, after Miss Sherrill was gone. Nettie looked distressed. She liked to please Miss Sherrill; she was willing to make many grandmothers; shewould help to put the little girls in as dainty attire as possible, but she didnotwant to go to the flower festival. She planned various ways; Jerry would take them down, or Norm; perhaps evenhewould go with them; surely mother would be willing to have them go with Norm. Miss Sherrill would look after them carefully, and they would come home at eight o'clock; before they began to grow very sleepy.
But no, Mrs. Decker was resolved; she could not let them go unless Nettie would go with them and bring them home. "I let one child run the streets," she said with a heavy sigh, "and I have lived to most wish he had died when he was a baby, before I did it; and I said then I would never let another one go out of my sight as long as I had control; I can't go; but I would just as soon they would be with you as with me; and unless you go, they can't stir a step, and that's the whole of it." Mrs. Decker was a very determined woman when she set out to be; and Nettie looked the picture of dismay. It did not seem possible to her to go to a flower party; and on the other hand it seemed really dreadful to thwart Miss Sherrill. Jerry sat listening, saying little, but the word he put in nowand then, was on Mrs. Decker's side; he owned to himself that he never so entirely approved of her as at that moment. He wanted Nettie to go to the flower party.
"But I have nothing to wear?" said Nettie, blushing, and almost weeping.
"Nothing to wear!" repeated Mrs. Decker in honest astonishment. "Why, what do you wear on Sundays, I should like to know? I'm sure you look as neat and nice as any girl I ever saw, in your gingham. I was watching you last Sunday and thinking how pretty it was."
"Yes; but, mother, they all wear white at such places; and I cut up my white dress, you know, for the little girls; it was rather short for me anyway; but I should feel queer in any other color."
"O, well," said Mrs. Decker in some irritation, "if they go to such places to show their clothes, why, I suppose you must stay at home, if you have none that you want to show. I thought, being it was a church, it didn't matter, so you were neat and clean; but churches are like everything else, it seems, places for show."
Jerry looked grave disapproval at Nettie, but she felt injured and could have cried. Was itfair to accuse her of going to church to show her clothes, or of being over-particular, when she went every Sunday in a blue and white gingham such as no other girl in her class would wear even to school? This was not church, it was a party. It was hard that she must be blamed for pride, when she was only too glad to stay at home from it.
"I can't go in my blue dress, and that is the whole of it," she said at last, a good deal of decision in her voice.
"Very well," said Mrs Decker. "Then we'll say no more about it; as for the little girls going without you, they sha'n't do it. When I set my foot down, it'sdown."
Jerry instinctively looked down at her foot as she spoke. It was a good-sized one, and looked as though it could set firmly on any question on which it was put. His heart began to fail him; the flower party and certain things which he hoped to accomplish thereby, were fading. He took refuge with Mrs. Smith to hide his disappointment, and also to learn wisdom about this matter of dress.
"Do clothes make such a very great difference to girls?" was his first question.
"Difference?" said Mrs. Smith rubbing a little more flour on her hands, and plunging them again into the sticky mass she was kneading.
"Yes'm. They seem to think of clothes the first thing, when there is any place to go to; boys aren't that way. I don't believe a boy knows whether his coat ought to be brown or green. What makes the difference?"
Mrs. Smith laughed a little. "Well," she said reflectively, "there is a difference, now that's a fact. I noticed it time and again when I was living with Mrs. Jennison. Dick would go off with whatever he happened to have on; and Florence was always in a flutter as to whether she looked as well as the rest. I've heard folks say that it is the fault of the mothers, because they make such a fuss over the girls' clothes, and keep rigging them up in something bright, just to make 'em look pretty, till they succeed in making them think there isn't anything quite so important in life as what they wear on their backs. It's all wrong, I believe. But then, Nettie ain't one of that kind. She hasn't had any mother to perk her up and make her vain. I shouldn't think she would be one to care about clothes much."
"She doesn't," said Jerry firmly. "I don't think she would care if other folks didn't. The girls in her class act hatefully to her; they don't speak, if they can help it. I suppose it's clothes; I don't know what else; they are always rigged out like hollyhocks or tulips; they make fun of her, I guess; and that isn't very pleasant."
"Is that the reason she won't go to the flower show next week?"
"Yes'm, that's the reason. All the girls are going to dress in white; I suppose she thinks she will look queerly, and be talked about. But I don't understand it. Seems to me if all the boys were going to wear blue coats, and I knew it, I'd just as soon wear my gray one if gray was respectable."
"She ought to have a white dress, now that's a fact," said Mrs. Smith with energy, patting her brown loaf, and tucking it down into the tin in a skilful way. "It isn't much for a girl like her to want; if her father was the kind of man he ought to be, she might have a white dress for best, as well as not; I've no patience with him."
"Her father hasn't drank a drop this week," said Jerry.
"Hasn't; well, I'm glad of it; but I'm thinkingof what he has done, and what he will go and do, as likely as not, next week; they might be as forehanded as any folks I know of, if he was what he ought to be; there isn't a better workman in the town. Well, you don't care much about the flower party, I suppose?"
"I don't now," said Jerry, wearily. "When I thought the little girls were going, I had a plan. Sate is such a little thing, she would be sure to be half-asleep by eight o'clock; and I was going to coax Norm to come for her, and we carry her home between us. Norm won't go to a flower party, out and out; but he is good-natured, and was beginning to think a great deal of Sate; then I thought Mr. Sherrill would speak to him. The more we can get Norm to feeling he belongs in such places, the less he will feel like belonging to the corner groceries, and the streets."
"I see," said Mrs. Smith admiringly. "Well, I do say I didn't think Nettie was the kind of girl to put a white dress between her chances of helping folks. Sarah Ann thinks she's a real true Christian; but Satan does seem to be into the clothes business from beginning to end."
"I don't suppose it is any easier for a Christian to be laughed at and slighted, than it is forother people," said Jerry, inclined to resent the idea that Nettie was not showing the right spirit; although in his heart he was disappointed in her for caring so much about the color of her dress.
"Well, I don't know about that," said Mrs. Smith, stopping in the act of tucking her bread under the blankets, to look full at Jerry, "why, they even made fun of the Lord Jesus Christ; dressed him up in purple, like a king, and mocked at him! When it comes to remembering that, it would seem as if any common Christian might be almost glad of a chance to be made fun of, just to stand in the same lot with him."
This was a new thought to Jerry. He studied it for awhile in silence. Now it so happened that neither Mrs. Smith nor Jerry remembered certain facts; one was that Mrs. Smith's kitchen window was in a line with Mrs. Decker's bedroom window, where Nettie had gone to sit while she mended Norm's shirt; the other was that a gentle breeze was blowing, which brought their words distinctly to Nettie's ears. At first she had not noticed the talk, busy with her own thoughts, then she heard her name, and paused needle in hand, to wonder what was being said about her. Then, coming to her senses, she determinedto leave the room; but her mother, for convenience, had pushed her ironing table against the bedroom door, and then had gone to the yard in search of chips; Nettie was a prisoner; she tried to push the table by pushing against the door, but the floor was uneven, and the table would not move; meantime the conversation going on across the alleyway, came distinctly to her. No use to cough, they were too much interested to hear her. By and by she grew so interested as to forget that the words were not intended for her to hear. There were more questions involved in this matter of dress than she had thought about. Her cheeks began to burn a little with the thought that her neighbor had been planning help for Norm, which she was blocking because she had no white dress! This was an astonishment! She had not known she was proud. In fact, she had thought herself very humble, and worthy of commendation because she went Sabbath after Sabbath to the school in the same blue and white dress, not so fresh now by a great deal as when she first came home.
When Mrs. Smith reached the sentence which told of the Lord Jesus being robed in purple,and crowned with thorns, and mocked, two great tears fell on Norm's shirt sleeve.
It was a very gentle little girl who moved about the kitchen getting early tea; Mrs. Decker glanced at her from time to time in a bewildered way. The sort of girl with whom she was best acquainted would have slammed things about a little; both because she had not clothes to wear like other children, and because she had been blamed for not wanting to do what was expected of her. But Nettie's face had no trace of anger, her movements were gentleness itself; her voice when she spoke was low and sweet: "Mother, I will take the little girls, if you will let them go."
Mrs. Decker drew a relieved sigh. "I'd like them to go becausesheasked to have them; and I can see plain enough she is trying to get hold of Norm; so ishe; that's what helping with the flowers means; and there ain't anything I ain't willing to do to help, only I couldn't let the little girls go without you; they'd be scared to death, and it wouldn't look right. I'm sorry enough you ain't got suitable clothes; if I could help it, you should have as good as the best of them."
"Never mind," said Nettie, "I don't think I care anything about the dress now." She wasthinking of that crown of thorns. So when Miss Sherrill called the way was plain and little Sate ready to be taught anything she would teach her.
They went away down to the pond under the clump of trees which formed such a pretty shade; and there Sate's slow sweet voice said over the lines as they were told to her, putting in many questions which the words suggested. "He makes the flowers blow," she repeated with thoughtful face, then: "What did He make them for?"
"I think it was because He loved them; and He likes to give you and me sweet and pleasant things to look at."
"Does He love flowers?"
"I think so, darling."
"And birds? See the birds!" For at that moment two beauties standing on the edge of their nest, looked down into the clear water, and seeing themselves reflected in its smoothness began to talk in low sweet chirps to their shadows.
"Oh, yes, He loves the birds, I am sure; think how many different kinds He has made, and how beautiful they are. Then He has given them sweet voices, and they are thanking Him as well as they know how, for all his goodness. Listen."
Sure enough, one of the little birds hopped back a trifle, balanced himself well on the nest, and, putting up his little throat, trilled a lovely song.
"What does he say?" asked Sate, watching him intently.
"Oh, I don't know," said Miss Sherrill, with a little laugh. Sate was taxing her powers rather too much. "But God understands, you know; and I am sure the words are very sweet to him."
Sate reflected over this for a minute, then went back to the flowers.
"What made Him put the colors on them? Does He like to see pretty colors, do you sink? Which color does He like just the very bestest of all?"
"O you darling! I don't know that, either. Perhaps, crimson; or, no, I think He must like pure white ones a little the best. But He likes little human flowers the best of all. Little white flowers with souls. Do you know what I mean, darling? White hearts are given to the little children who try all the time to do right, because they love Jesus, and want to please him."
"Sate wants to," said the little girl earnestly."Sate loves Jesus; and she would like to kiss him."
"I do not know but you shall, some day. Now shall we take another line of the hymn?" continued her teacher.
"I tried to teach her," explained Miss Sherrill to her brother. "But I think, after all, she taught me the most. She is the dearest little thing, and asks the strangest questions! When I look at her grave, sweet face, and hear her slow, sweet voice making wise answers, and asking wise questions, a sort of baby wisdom, you know, I can only repeat over and over the words:
"'Of such is the kingdom of heaven.'
"To-day I told her the story of Jesus taking the little children up in his arms and blessing them. She listened with that thoughtful look in her eyes which is so wonderful, then suddenly she held up her pretty arms and said in the most coaxing tones:
"'Take little Sate to Him, and let Him bless her, yight away.'
"Tremaine, I could hardly keep back the tears. Do you think He can be going to call her soon?"
"Not necessarily at all. There is no reason why a little child should not live very close to Him on earth. I hope that little girl has a great work to do for Christ in this world. She has a very sweet face."