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Jewel: A Chapter in Her Life

Page 16

by Clara Louise Burnham


  Neither could Mr. Evringham. He had taken Jewel into his study nowwith the intention of finding out, deeming a secluded apartment moredesirable for catechism which might lay him liable to personal attack.

  As they entered the library he turned on the light, and Jewel glancedabout with her usual alert and ready admiration.

  "Is this your own, own particular room, grandpa?" she asked.

  "Yes, where I keep all my books and papers."

  The child's eye suddenly lighted on the yellow chicken, and she lookedup at Mr. Evringham with a pleased smile. He had forgotten the chicken,and took the seat before his desk, glancing vaguely about to see whichchair would be least heavy and ponderous for his guest. She settledthe matter without any hesitation by jumping upon his knee. Jewel had asubject on her mind which pressed heavily, and before her companionhad had time to do more than wink once or twice in his surprise, sheproceeded to it.

  "Do you know, grandpa, I think it's hard for Mrs. Forbes to love peoplevery much," she said in a lowered voice, as if perhaps the walls mighthave ears. "I wanted to ask her yesterday morning if she didn't love mewhom she had seen, how could she love God whom she hadn't seen. Grandpa,would you be willing to tie my bows?"

  "To tie"--repeated Mr. Evringham, and paused.

  The child was gazing into his eyes earnestly. She put her hand into herpocket and took out two long pieces of blue ribbon.

  "You see, you're my only real relation," she explained, "and so I don'tlike to ask anybody else."

  The startled look in her grandfather's face moved her to proceedencouragingly.

  "You tie your neckties just beautifully, grandpa; and Mrs. Forbes doesher duty so _hard_, and she wants to have my hair cut off, to savetrouble." Jewel put her hand up to one short pigtail protectingly.

  "And you don't want it cut off, eh?"

  "No; and mother wouldn't either. So it would be error, and I'm sure Icould learn to fix it better than I did to-night, if you would tie thebows. Just try one right now, grandpa."

  "With the house full of women!" gasped Mr. Evringham.

  "But none of them my real relatives," replied Jewel, and she turned theback of her head to him, putting the ribbons in his hands.

  His fingers fumbled at the task for a minute, and his breathing began tobe heavy.

  "Is it hard, grandpa?" she asked sympathetically. "You can do it.You reflect intelligence." Then in an instant, "Oh, I've thought ofsomething." She whisked about, took the ribbons and tied one tightlyaround the end of each braid, then ducking her forehead into his shirtfront, "Now put your arms around my neck and tie the bow just as if itwas on yourself." Eureka! The thing was accomplished and Mrs. Forbesoutwitted. The broker was rather pleased with himself, at the billowyappearance of the ribbon which covered such a multitude of sins in theway of bad parting and braiding. He took his handkerchief and wipedthe beads of perspiration from his brow, while Jewel regarded him withadmiring affection.

  "I knew you could do just _anything_, grandpa!" she said. "You see,"looking off at a mental vision of the housekeeper, "we could come inhere every morning for a minute before breakfast, and she'd never know,would she?" The child lifted her shoulders and laughed softly withpleasure at the plot.

  Mr. Evringham saw his opportunity to take the floor.

  "Now Jewel, I would like to have you explain what you meant by sayingthat you telegraphed to Chicago to-day, when you didn't leave your bed."

  She looked up at him attentively. "Ezekiel took it for me," she replied.

  Mr. Evringham unconsciously heaved a sigh of relief at this commonplaceinformation. His knowledge of the claims of Christian Science wasextremely vague, and he had feared being obliged to listen to adeclaration of the use of some means of communication which would makeMarconi's discoveries appear like clumsy makeshifts.

  "But I think, grandpa, perhaps you'd better not tell Mrs. Forbes."

  "How did you manage to see Zeke?"

  "I asked his mother if he might come to see me before he took you to thetrain."

  Mr. Evringham pulled his mustache in amusement. "Did he pay for thetelegram?"

  "Why no, grandpa. I told you I had plenty of money."

  "And you think that Mrs. Somebody in Chicago cured you?"

  "Of course not. God did."

  "But she asked Him, eh?"

  Jewel's innocent eyes looked directly into the quizzical ones. "It'spretty hard for a little girl to teach you about it if you don't know,"she said doubtfully.

  "I _don't_ know," he replied, his mood altered by her tone, "but Ishould like to know what you think about it. Your cure was a rathersurprising one to us all."

  "I can tell you some of the things I know."

  "Do so then."

  "Well"--a pause--"there wasn't anything to cure, you see."

  "Ah! You weren't ill then!"

  "No--o," scornfully, "of course not. I knew it all the time, but itseemed so real to me, and so hot, I knew I'd have to have some one elsehandle the claim for me."

  "It certainly did seem rather real." Mr. Evringham smiled.

  Jewel saw that he did not in the least comprehend.

  "You know there isn't any devil, don't you, grandpa?" she askedpatiently.

  "Well, sometimes I have my doubts."

  The little girl tried to discover by his eyes if he were in earnest.

  "If you believe there is, then you could believe that I was reallysick; but if you believe there isn't, and that God created everybody andeverything, then it is so easy to understand that I wasn't. Think of Godcreating anything bad!"

  Mr. Evringham nodded vaguely. "When mother comes home she'll tell youabout it, if you want her to." She sighed a little and abruptly changedthe subject. "Grandpa, are you going to be working at your desk?"

  "Yes, for a while."

  "Could I sit over at that table and write a letter while you're busy? Iwouldn't speak." She slipped down from his knee.

  "I don't know about your having ink. You're a rather small girl to bewriting letters."

  "Oh no, I'll take a pencil--because sometimes I move quickly and inktips over."

  "Quite so. I'm glad you realize that, else I should be afraid to haveyou come to my study."

  "You'd better not be afraid," the child shook her head sagely, "becausethat makes things happen."

  Her grandfather regarded her curiously. This small Bible student, whocouldn't tie her own hair ribbons, was an increasing problem to him.

 

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