CHAPTER III. SUNDAY
The moment the bell rang next morning Nat flew out of bed, and dressedhimself with great satisfaction in the suit of clothes he found onthe chair. They were not new, being half-worn garments of one of thewell-to-do boys; but Mrs. Bhaer kept all such cast-off feathers for thepicked robins who strayed into her nest. They were hardly on when Tommyappeared in a high state of clean collar, and escorted Nat down tobreakfast.
The sun was shining into the dining-room on the well-spread table, andthe flock of hungry, hearty lads who gathered round it. Nat observedthat they were much more orderly than they had been the night before,and every one stood silently behind his chair while little Rob, standingbeside his father at the head of the table, folded his hands, reverentlybent his curly head, and softly repeated a short grace in the devoutGerman fashion, which Mr. Bhaer loved and taught his little son tohonor. Then they all sat down to enjoy the Sunday-morning breakfast ofcoffee, steak, and baked potatoes, instead of the bread and milk farewith which they usually satisfied their young appetites. There was muchpleasant talk while the knives and forks rattled briskly, for certainSunday lessons were to be learned, the Sunday walk settled, and plansfor the week discussed. As he listened, Nat thought it seemed as if thisday must be a very pleasant one, for he loved quiet, and there wasa cheerful sort of hush over every thing that pleased him very much;because, in spite of his rough life, the boy possessed the sensitivenerves which belong to a music-loving nature.
"Now, my lads, get your morning jobs done, and let me find you readyfor church when the 'bus comes round," said Father Bhaer, and set theexample by going into the school-room to get books ready for the morrow.
Every one scattered to his or her task, for each had some little dailyduty, and was expected to perform it faithfully. Some brought wood andwater, brushed the steps, or ran errands for Mrs. Bhaer. Others fed thepet animals, and did chores about the barn with Franz. Daisy washed thecups, and Demi wiped them, for the twins liked to work together, andDemi had been taught to make himself useful in the little house at home.Even Baby Teddy had his small job to do, and trotted to and fro, puttingnapkins away, and pushing chairs into their places. For half and hourthe lads buzzed about like a hive of bees, then the 'bus drove round,Father Bhaer and Franz with the eight older boys piled in, and away theywent for a three-mile drive to church in town.
Because of the troublesome cough Nat prefered to stay at home withthe four small boys, and spent a happy morning in Mrs. Bhaer's room,listening to the stories she read them, learning the hymns she taughtthem, and then quietly employing himself pasting pictures into an oldledger.
"This is my Sunday closet," she said, showing him shelves filled withpicture-books, paint-boxes, architectural blocks, little diaries, andmaterials for letter-writing. "I want my boys to love Sunday, to find ita peaceful, pleasant day, when they can rest from common study andplay, yet enjoy quiet pleasures, and learn, in simple ways, lessons moreimportant than any taught in school. Do you understand me?" she asked,watching Nat's attentive face.
"You mean to be good?" he said, after hesitating a minute.
"Yes; to be good, and to love to be good. It is hard work sometimes, Iknow very well; but we all help one another, and so we get on. This isone of the ways in which I try to help my boys," and she took down athick book, which seemed half-full of writing, and opened at a page onwhich there was one word at the top.
"Why, that's my name!" cried Nat, looking both surprised and interested.
"Yes; I have a page for each boy. I keep a little account of how he getson through the week, and Sunday night I show him the record. If it isbad I am sorry and disappointed, if it is good I am glad and proud; but,whichever it is, the boys know I want to help them, and they try to dotheir best for love of me and Father Bhaer."
"I should think they would," said Nat, catching a glimpse of Tommy'sname opposite his own, and wondering what was written under it.
Mrs. Bhaer saw his eye on the words, and shook her head, saying, as sheturned a leaf,
"No, I don't show my records to any but the one to whom each belongs. Icall this my conscience book; and only you and I will ever know what isto be written on the page below your name. Whether you will be pleasedor ashamed to read it next Sunday depends on yourself. I think it willbe a good report; at any rate, I shall try to make things easy for youin this new place, and shall be quite contented if you keep our fewrules, live happily with the boys, and learn something."
"I'll try ma'am;" and Nat's thin face flushed up with the earnestnessof his desire to make Mrs. Bhaer "glad and proud," not "sorry anddisappointed." "It must be a great deal of trouble to write about somany," he added, as she shut her book with an encouraging pat on theshoulder.
"Not to me, for I really don't know which I like best, writing or boys,"she said, laughing to see Nat stare with astonishment at the last item."Yes, I know many people think boys are a nuisance, but that is becausethey don't understand them. I do; and I never saw the boy yet whom Icould not get on capitally with after I had once found the soft spot inhis heart. Bless me, I couldn't get on at all without my flock of dear,noisy, naughty, harum-scarum little lads, could I, my Teddy?" and Mrs.Bhaer hugged the young rogue, just in time to save the big inkstand fromgoing into his pocket.
Nat, who had never heard anything like this before, really did not knowwhether Mother Bhaer was a trifle crazy, or the most delightful woman hehad ever met. He rather inclined to the latter opinion, in spite of herpeculiar tastes, for she had a way of filling up a fellow's plate beforehe asked, of laughing at his jokes, gently tweaking him by the ear, orclapping him on the shoulder, that Nat found very engaging.
"Now, I think you would like to go into the school-room and practisesome of the hymns we are to sing to-night," she said, rightly guessingthe thing of all others that he wanted to do.
Alone with the beloved violin and the music-book propped up before himin the sunny window, while Spring beauty filled the world outside, andSabbath silence reigned within, Nat enjoyed an hour or two of genuinehappiness, learning the sweet old tunes, and forgetting the hard past inthe cheerful present.
When the church-goers came back and dinner was over, every one read,wrote letters home, said their Sunday lessons, or talked quietly to oneanother, sitting here and there about the house. At three o'clock theentire family turned out to walk, for all the active young bodies musthave exercise; and in these walks the active young minds were taughtto see and love the providence of God in the beautiful miracles whichNature was working before their eyes. Mr. Bhaer always went with them,and in his simple, fatherly way, found for his flock, "Sermons instones, books in the running brooks, and good in everything."
Mrs. Bhaer with Daisy and her own two boys drove into town, to pay theweekly visit to Grandma, which was busy Mother Bhaer's one holiday andgreatest pleasure. Nat was not strong enough for the long walk, andasked to stay at home with Tommy, who kindly offered to do the honorsof Plumfield. "You've seen the house, so come out and have a look atthe garden, and the barn, and the menagerie," said Tommy, when they wereleft alone with Asia, to see that they didn't get into mischief;for, though Tommy was one of the best-meaning boys who ever adornedknickerbockers, accidents of the most direful nature were alwayshappening to him, no one could exactly tell how.
"What is your menagerie?" asked Nat, as they trotted along the drivethat encircled the house.
"We all have pets, you see, and we keep 'em in the corn-barn, and callit the menagerie. Here you are. Isn't my guinea-pig a beauty?" and Tommyproudly presented one of the ugliest specimens of that pleasing animalthat Nat ever saw.
"I know a boy with a dozen of 'em, and he said he'd give me one, only Ihadn't any place to keep it, so I couldn't have it. It was white, withblack spots, a regular rouser, and maybe I could get it for you if you'dlike it," said Nat, feeling it would be a delicate return for Tommy'sattentions.
"I'd like it ever so much, and I'll give you this one, and they can livetogether if they don't fight. Thos
e white mice are Rob's, Franz gave'em to him. The rabbits are Ned's, and the bantams outside are Stuffy's.That box thing is Demi's turtle-tank, only he hasn't begun to get 'emyet. Last year he had sixty-two, whackers some of 'em. He stamped one of'em with his name and the year, and let it go; and he says maybe he willfind it ever so long after and know it. He read about a turtle beingfound that had a mark on it that showed it must be hundreds of yearsold. Demi's such a funny chap."
"What is in this box?" asked Nat, stopping before a large deep one,half-full of earth.
"Oh, that's Jack Ford's worm-shop. He digs heaps of 'em and keeps 'emhere, and when we want any to go afishing with, we buy some of him. Itsaves lots of trouble, only he charged too much for 'em. Why, last timewe traded I had to pay two cents a dozen, and then got little ones.Jack's mean sometimes, and I told him I'd dig for myself if he didn'tlower his prices. Now, I own two hens, those gray ones with top knots,first-rate ones they are too, and I sell Mrs. Bhaer the eggs, but Inever ask her more than twenty-five cents a dozen, never! I'd be ashamedto do it," cried Tommy, with a glance of scorn at the worm-shop.
"Who owns the dogs?" asked Nat, much interested in these commercialtransactions, and feeling that T. Bangs was a man whom it would be aprivilege and a pleasure to patronize.
"The big dog is Emil's. His name is Christopher Columbus. Mrs. Bhaernamed him because she likes to say Christopher Columbus, and no oneminds it if she means the dog," answered Tommy, in the tone of ashow-man displaying his menagerie. "The white pup is Rob's, and theyellow one is Teddy's. A man was going to drown them in our pond, andPa Bhaer wouldn't let him. They do well enough for the little chaps, Idon't think much of 'em myself. Their names are Castor and Pollux."
"I'd like Toby the donkey best, if I could have anything, it's so niceto ride, and he's so little and good," said Nat, remembering the wearytramps he had taken on his own tired feet.
"Mr. Laurie sent him out to Mrs. Bhaer, so she shouldn't carry Teddyon her back when we go to walk. We're all fond of Toby, and he's afirst-rate donkey, sir. Those pigeons belong to the whole lot of us, weeach have our pet one, and go shares in all the little ones as they comealong. Squabs are great fun; there ain't any now, but you can go up andtake a look at the old fellows, while I see if Cockletop and Granny havelaid any eggs."
Nat climbed up a ladder, put his head through a trap door and took along look at the pretty doves billing and cooing in their spacious loft.Some on their nests, some bustling in and out, and some sitting attheir doors, while many went flying from the sunny housetop to thestraw-strewn farmyard, where six sleek cows were placidly ruminating.
"Everybody has got something but me. I wish I had a dove, or a hen, oreven a turtle, all my own," thought Nat, feeling very poor as he saw theinteresting treasures of the other boys. "How do you get these things?"he asked, when he joined Tommy in the barn.
"We find 'em or buy 'em, or folks give 'em to us. My father sends memine; but as soon as I get egg money enough, I'm going to buy a pair ofducks. There's a nice little pond for 'em behind the barn, and peoplepay well for duck-eggs, and the little duckies are pretty, and it's funto see 'em swim," said Tommy, with the air of a millionaire.
Nat sighed, for he had neither father nor money, nothing in the wideworld but an old empty pocketbook, and the skill that lay in his tenfinger tips. Tommy seemed to understand the question and the sigh whichfollowed his answer, for after a moment of deep thought, he suddenlybroke out,
"Look here, I'll tell you what I'll do. If you will hunt eggs for me, Ihate it, I'll give you one egg out of every dozen. You keep account, andwhen you've had twelve, Mother Bhaer will give you twenty-five cents for'em, and then you can buy what you like, don't you see?"
"I'll do it! What a kind feller you are, Tommy!" cried Nat, quitedazzled by this brilliant offer.
"Pooh! that is not anything. You begin now and rummage the barn, andI'll wait here for you. Granny is cackling, so you're sure to find onesomewhere," and Tommy threw himself down on the hay with a luxurioussense of having made a good bargain, and done a friendly thing.
Nat joyfully began his search, and went rustling from loft to loft tillhe found two fine eggs, one hidden under a beam, and the other in an oldpeck measure, which Mrs. Cockletop had appropriated.
"You may have one and I'll have the other, that will just make up mylast dozen, and to-morrow we'll start fresh. Here, you chalk youraccounts up near mine, and then we'll be all straight," said Tommy,showing a row of mysterious figures on the side of an old winnowingmachine.
With a delightful sense of importance, the proud possessor of one eggopened his account with his friend, who laughingly wrote above thefigures these imposing words,
"T. Bangs & Co."
Poor Nat found them so fascinating that he was with difficulty persuadedto go and deposit his first piece of portable property in Asia'sstore-room. Then they went on again, and having made the acquaintanceof the two horses, six cows, three pigs, and one Alderney "Bossy,"as calves are called in New England, Tommy took Nat to a certain oldwillow-tree that overhung a noisy little brook. From the fence it wasan easy scramble into a wide niche between the three big branches, whichhad been cut off to send out from year to year a crowd of slender twigs,till a green canopy rustled overhead. Here little seats had been fixed,and a hollow place a closet made big enough to hold a book or two, adismantled boat, and several half-finished whistles.
"This is Demi's and my private place; we made it, and nobody can come upunless we let 'em, except Daisy, we don't mind her," said Tommy, as Natlooked with delight from the babbling brown water below to the greenarch above, where bees were making a musical murmur as they feasted onthe long yellow blossoms that filled the air with sweetness.
"Oh, it's just beautiful!" cried Nat. "I do hope you'll let me upsometimes. I never saw such a nice place in all my life. I'd like to bea bird, and live here always."
"It is pretty nice. You can come if Demi don't mind, and I guess hewon't, because he said last night that he liked you."
"Did he?" and Nat smiled with pleasure, for Demi's regard seemed to bevalued by all the boys, partly because he was Father Bhaer's nephew, andpartly because he was such a sober, conscientious little fellow.
"Yes; Demi likes quiet chaps, and I guess he and you will get on if youcare about reading as he does."
Poor Nat's flush of pleasure deepened to a painful scarlet at those lastwords, and he stammered out,
"I can't read very well; I never had any time; I was always fiddlinground, you know."
"I don't love it myself, but I can do it well enough when I want to,"said Tommy, after a surprised look, which said as plainly as words, "Aboy twelve years old and can't read!"
"I can read music, anyway," added Nat, rather ruffled at having toconfess his ignorance.
"I can't;" and Tommy spoke in a respectful tone, which emboldened Nat tosay firmly,
"I mean to study real hard and learn every thing I can, for I never hada chance before. Does Mr. Bhaer give hard lessons?"
"No; he isn't a bit cross; he sort of explains and gives you a boostover the hard places. Some folks don't; my other master didn't. If wemissed a word, didn't we get raps on the head!" and Tommy rubbed his ownpate as if it tingled yet with the liberal supply of raps, the memoryof which was the only thing he brought away after a year with his "othermaster."
"I think I could read this," said Nat, who had been examining the books.
"Read a bit, then; I'll help you," resumed Tommy, with a patronizingair.
So Nat did his best, and floundered through a page with may friendly"boosts" from Tommy, who told him he would soon "go it" as well asanybody. Then they sat and talked boy-fashion about all sorts of things,among others, gardening; for Nat, looking down from his perch, askedwhat was planted in the many little patches lying below them on theother side of the brook.
"These are our farms," said Tommy. "We each have our own patch, andraise what we like in it, only have to choose different things, andcan't change till the crop
is in, and we must keep it in order allsummer."
"What are you going to raise this year?"
"Wal, I cattleated to hev beans, as they are about the easiest cropa-goin'."
Nat could not help laughing, for Tommy had pushed back his hat, put hishands in his pockets, and drawled out his words in unconscious imitationof Silas, the man who managed the place for Mr. Bhaer.
"Come, you needn't laugh; beans are ever so much easier than corn orpotatoes. I tried melons last year, but the bugs were a bother, and theold things wouldn't get ripe before the frost, so I didn't have but onegood water and two little 'mush mellions,'" said Tommy, relapsing into a"Silasism" with the last word.
"Corn looks pretty growing," said Nat, politely, to atone for his laugh.
"Yes, but you have to hoe it over and over again. Now, six weeks' beansonly have to be done once or so, and they get ripe soon. I'm going totry 'em, for I spoke first. Stuffy wanted 'em, but he's got to takepeas; they only have to be picked, and he ought to do it, he eats such alot."
"I wonder if I shall have a garden?" said Nat, thinking that evencorn-hoeing must be pleasant work.
"Of course you will," said a voice from below, and there was Mr. Bhaerreturned from his walk, and come to find them, for he managed to havea little talk with every one of the lads some time during the day, andfound that these chats gave them a good start for the coming week.
Sympathy is a sweet thing, and it worked wonders here, for each boy knewthat Father Bhaer was interested in him, and some were readier to opentheir hearts to him than to a woman, especially the older ones, wholiked to talk over their hopes and plans, man to man. When sick or introuble they instinctively turned to Mrs. Jo, while the little ones madeher their mother-confessor on all occasions.
In descending from their nest, Tommy fell into the brook; being used toit, he calmly picked himself out and retired to the house to be dried.This left Nat to Mr. Bhaer, which was just what he wished, and, duringthe stroll they took among the garden plots, he won the lad's heart bygiving him a little "farm," and discussing crops with him as gravely asif the food for the family depended on the harvest. From this pleasanttopic they went to others, and Nat had many new and helpful thoughts putinto a mind that received them as gratefully as the thirsty earth hadreceived the warm spring rain. All supper time he brooded over them,often fixing his eyes on Mr. Bhaer with an inquiring look, that seemedto say, "I like that, do it again, sir." I don't know whether the manunderstood the child's mute language or not, but when the boys were allgathered together in Mrs. Bhaer's parlor for the Sunday evening talk,he chose a subject which might have been suggested by the walk in thegarden.
As he looked about him Nat thought it seemed more like a great familythan a school, for the lads were sitting in a wide half-circle round thefire, some on chairs, some on the rug, Daisy and Demi on the knees ofUncle Fritz, and Rob snugly stowed away in the back of his mother'seasy-chair, where he could nod unseen if the talk got beyond his depth.
Every one looked quite comfortable, and listened attentively, for thelong walk made rest agreeable, and as every boy there knew that he wouldbe called upon for his views, he kept his wits awake to be ready with ananswer.
"Once upon a time," began Mr. Bhaer, in the dear old-fashioned way,"there was a great and wise gardener who had the largest garden everseen. A wonderful and lovely place it was, and he watched over it withthe greatest skill and care, and raised all manner of excellent anduseful things. But weeds would grow even in this fine garden; often theground was bad and the good seeds sown in it would not spring up. Hehad many under gardeners to help him. Some did their duty and earned therich wages he gave them; but others neglected their parts and let themrun to waste, which displeased him very much. But he was very patient,and for thousands and thousands of years he worked and waited for hisgreat harvest."
"He must have been pretty old," said Demi, who was looking straight intoUncle Fritz's face, as if to catch every word.
"Hush, Demi, it's a fairy story," whispered Daisy.
"No, I think it's an arrygory," said Demi.
"What is a arrygory?" called out Tommy, who was of an inquiring turn.
"Tell him, Demi, if you can, and don't use words unless you are quitesure you know what they mean," said Mr. Bhaer.
"I do know, Grandpa told me! A fable is a arrygory; it's a story thatmeans something. My 'Story without an end' is one, because the child init means a soul; don't it, Aunty?" cried Demi, eager to prove himselfright.
"That's it, dear; and Uncle's story is an allegory, I am quite sure; solisten and see what it means," returned Mrs. Jo, who always took part inwhatever was going on, and enjoyed it as much as any boy among them.
Demi composed himself, and Mr. Bhaer went on in his best English, for hehad improved much in the last five years, and said the boys did it.
"This great gardener gave a dozen or so of little plots to one of hisservants, and told him to do his best and see what he could raise. Nowthis servant was not rich, nor wise, nor very good, but he wanted tohelp because the gardener had been very kind to him in many ways. So hegladly took the little plots and fell to work. They were all sorts ofshapes and sizes, and some were very good soil, some rather stony, andall of them needed much care, for in the rich soil the weeds grew fast,and in the poor soil there were many stones."
"What was growing in them besides the weeds, and stones?" asked Nat; sointerested, he forgot his shyness and spoke before them all.
"Flowers," said Mr. Bhaer, with a kind look. "Even the roughest, mostneglected little bed had a bit of heart's-ease or a sprig of mignonettein it. One had roses, sweet peas, and daisies in it," here he pinchedthe plump cheek of the little girl leaning on his arm. "Another had allsorts of curious plants in it, bright pebbles, a vine that went climbingup like Jack's beanstalk, and many good seeds just beginning to sprout;for, you see, this bed had been taken fine care of by a wise old man,who had worked in gardens of this sort all his life."
At this part of the "arrygory," Demi put his head on one side like aninquisitive bird, and fixed his bright eye on his uncle's face, as if hesuspected something and was on the watch. But Mr. Bhaer looked perfectlyinnocent, and went on glancing from one young face to another, with agrave, wistful look, that said much to his wife, who knew how earnestlyhe desired to do his duty in these little garden plots.
"As I tell you, some of these beds were easy to cultivate, that meansto take care of Daisy, and others were very hard. There was oneparticularly sunshiny little bed that might have been full of fruits andvegetables as well as flowers, only it wouldn't take any pains, and whenthe man sowed, well, we'll say melons in this bed, they came to nothing,because the little bed neglected them. The man was sorry, and kept ontrying, though every time the crop failed, all the bed said, was, 'Iforgot.'"
Here a general laugh broke out, and every one looked at Tommy, who hadpricked up his ears at the word "melons," and hung down his head at thesound of his favorite excuse.
"I knew he meant us!" cried Demi, clapping his hands. "You are the man,and we are the little gardens; aren't we, Uncle Fritz?"
"You have guessed it. Now each of you tell me what crop I shall try tosow in you this spring, so that next autumn I may get a good harvest outof my twelve, no, thirteen, plots," said Mr. Bhaer, nodding at Nat as hecorrected himself.
"You can't sow corn and beans and peas in us. Unless you mean we are toeat a great many and get fat," said Stuffy, with a sudden brightening ofhis round, dull face as the pleasing idea occurred to him.
"He don't mean that kind of seeds. He means things to make us good; andthe weeds are faults," cried Demi, who usually took the lead in thesetalks, because he was used to this sort of thing, and liked it verymuch.
"Yes, each of you think what you need most, and tell me, and I will helpyou to grow it; only you must do your best, or you will turn out likeTommy's melons, all leaves and no fruit. I will begin with the oldest,and ask the mother what she will have in her plot, for we are all partsof the be
autiful garden, and may have rich harvests for our Master if welove Him enough," said Father Bhaer.
"I shall devote the whole of my plot to the largest crop of patience Ican get, for that is what I need most," said Mrs. Jo, so soberly thatthe lads fell to thinking in good earnest what they should say whentheir turns came, and some among them felt a twinge of remorse, thatthey had helped to use up Mother Bhaer's stock of patience so fast.
Franz wanted perseverance, Tommy steadiness, Ned went in for goodtemper, Daisy for industry, Demi for "as much wiseness as Grandpa," andNat timidly said he wanted so many things he would let Mr. Bhaer choosefor him. The others chose much the same things, and patience, goodtemper, and generosity seemed the favorite crops. One boy wished to liketo get up early, but did not know what name to give that sort of seed;and poor Stuffy sighed out,
"I wish I loved my lessons as much as I do my dinner, but I can't."
"We will plant self-denial, and hoe it and water it, and make it grow sowell that next Christmas no one will get ill by eating too much dinner.If you exercise your mind, George, it will get hungry just as your bodydoes, and you will love books almost as much as my philosopher here,"said Mr. Bhaer; adding, as he stroked the hair off Demi's fine forehead,"You are greedy also, my son, and you like to stuff your little mindfull of fairy tales and fancies, as well as George likes to fill hislittle stomach with cake and candy. Both are bad, and I want you totry something better. Arithmetic is not half so pleasant as 'ArabianNights,' I know, but it is a very useful thing, and now is the time tolearn it, else you will be ashamed and sorry by and by."
"But, 'Harry and Lucy,' and 'Frank,' are not fairy books, and theyare all full of barometers, and bricks, and shoeing horses, and usefulthings, and I'm fond of them; ain't I, Daisy?" said Demi, anxious todefend himself.
"So they are; but I find you reading 'Roland and Maybird,' a great dealoftener than 'Harry and Lucy,' and I think you are not half so fond of'Frank' as you are of 'Sinbad.' Come, I shall make a little bargain withyou both, George shall eat but three times a day, and you shall read butone story-book a week, and I will give you the new cricket-ground; only,you must promise to play in it," said Uncle Fritz, in his persuasiveway, for Stuffy hated to run about, and Demi was always reading in playhours.
"But we don't like cricket," said Demi.
"Perhaps not now, but you will when you know it. Besides, you do like tobe generous, and the other boys want to play, and you can give them thenew ground if you choose."
This was taken them both on the right side, and they agreed to thebargain, to the great satisfaction of the rest.
There was a little more talk about the gardens, and then they all sangtogether. The band delighted Nat, for Mrs. Bhaer played the piano, Franzthe flute, Mr. Bhaer a bass viol, and he himself the violin. A verysimple little concert, but all seemed to enjoy it, and old Asia, sittingin the corner, joined at times with the sweetest voice of any, for inthis family, master and servant, old and young, black and white, sharedin the Sunday song, which went up to the Father of them all. After thisthey each shook hands with Father Bhaer; Mother Bhaer kissed them everyone from sixteen-year-old Franz to little Rob, how kept the tip of hernose for his own particular kisses, and then they trooped up to bed.
The light of the shaded lamp that burned in the nursery shone softly ona picture hanging at the foot of Nat's bed. There were several otherson the walls, but the boy thought there must be something peculiar aboutthis one, for it had a graceful frame of moss and cones about it, andon a little bracket underneath stood a vase of wild flowers freshlygathered from the spring woods. It was the most beautiful picture ofthem all, and Nat lay looking at it, dimly feeling what it meant, andwishing he knew all about it.
"That's my picture," said a little voice in the room. Nat popped up hishead, and there was Demi in his night-gown pausing on his way back fromAunt Jo's chamber, whither he had gone to get a cot for a cut finger.
"What is he doing to the children?" asked Nat.
"That is Christ, the Good Man, and He is blessing the children. Don'tyou know about Him?" said Demi, wondering.
"Not much, but I'd like to, He looks so kind," answered Nat, whose chiefknowledge of the Good Man consisted in hearing His name taken in vain.
"I know all about it, and I like it very much, because it is true," saidDemi.
"Who told you?"
"My Grandpa, he knows every thing, and tells the best stories inthe world. I used to play with his big books, and make bridges, andrailroads, and houses, when I was a little boy," began Demi.
"How old are you now?" asked Nat, respectfully.
"'Most ten."
"You know a lot of things, don't you?"
"Yes; you see my head is pretty big, and Grandpa says it will take agood deal to fill it, so I keep putting pieces of wisdom into it as fastas I can," returned Demi, in his quaint way.
Nat laughed, and then said soberly,
"Tell on, please."
And Demi gladly told on without pause or punctuation. "I found a verypretty book one day and wanted to play with it, but Grandpa said Imustn't, and showed me the pictures, and told me about them, and I likedthe stories very much, all about Joseph and his bad brothers, and thefrogs that came up out of the sea, and dear little Moses in the water,and ever so many more lovely ones, but I liked about the Good Man bestof all, and Grandpa told it to me so many times that I learned it byheart, and he gave me this picture so I shouldn't forget, and it wasput up here once when I was sick, and I left it for other sick boys tosee."'
"What makes Him bless the children?" asked Nat, who found something veryattractive in the chief figure of the group.
"Because He loved them."
"Were they poor children?" asked Nat, wistfully.
"Yes, I think so; you see some haven't got hardly any clothes on, andthe mothers don't look like rich ladies. He liked poor people, and wasvery good to them. He made them well, and helped them, and told richpeople they must not be cross to them, and they loved Him dearly,dearly," cried Demi, with enthusiasm.
"Was He rich?"
"Oh no! He was born in a barn, and was so poor He hadn't any house tolive in when He grew up, and nothing to eat sometimes, but what peoplegave Him, and He went round preaching to everybody, and trying to makethem good, till the bad men killed Him."
"What for?" and Nat sat up in his bed to look and listen, so interestedwas he in this man who cared for the poor so much.
"I'll tell you all about it; Aunt Jo won't mind;" and Demi settledhimself on the opposite bed, glad to tell his favorite story to so gooda listener.
Nursey peeped in to see if Nat was asleep, but when she saw what wasgoing on, she slipped away again, and went to Mrs. Bhaer, saying withher kind face full of motherly emotion,
"Will the dear lady come and see a pretty sight? It's Nat listeningwith all his heart to Demi telling the story of the Christ-child, like alittle white angel as he is."
Mrs. Bhaer had meant to go and talk with Nat a moment before he slept,for she had found that a serious word spoken at this time often didmuch good. But when she stole to the nursery door, and saw Nat eagerlydrinking in the words of his little friends, while Demi told the sweetand solemn story as it had been taught him, speaking softly as he satwith his beautiful eyes fixed on the tender face above them, her ownfilled with tears, and she went silently away, thinking to herself,
"Demi is unconsciously helping the poor boy better than I can; I willnot spoil it by a single word."
The murmur of the childish voice went on for a long time, as oneinnocent heart preached that great sermon to another, and no one hushedit. When it ceased at last, and Mrs. Bhaer went to take away the lamp,Demi was gone and Nat fast asleep, lying with his face toward thepicture, as if he had already learned to love the Good Man who lovedlittle children, and was a faithful friend to the poor. The boy's facewas very placid, and as she looked at it she felt that if a single dayof care and kindness had done so much, a year of patient cultivationwould surely bring a gratef
ul harvest from this neglected garden, whichwas already sown with the best of all seed by the little missionary inthe night-gown.
Little Men Page 3