"Well, mother," said I, "I won't come near you if you don't like, but I
want some tea for poor old Nanny."
"I can't find tea for old Nannies," replied she.
"I'll give her mine, Jack," cried Virginia.
"Indeed, miss, you'll do no such thing," said my mother; "and sit up
properly to table, instead of hanging your head down in that way; and
don't pour your tea in your saucer--that's vulgar!"
"The tea's so hot, mamma!" said Virginia.
"Then wait till it's cool, miss. Leave the teapot alone, sir!"
"I'll thank you for some tea, mother," replied I. "I shall give my
breakfast to old Nanny."
"You'll take no breakfast out of this house," was the reply.
"Why, mother?--for a poor sick old woman."
"Let her go to the parish."
I now became angry myself. I took up the teapot and walked away into
the back kitchen: my mother rose and followed me, insisting upon my
putting the teapot down; but I would not, and I poured out the tea into
a little milk-can. I did not answer her, but I felt that I was right
and would not give in, and she was afraid to attempt force. My mother
then ran back to the table, caught up the sugar-basin and carried it
upstairs, singing as she went, at the highest pitch of her voice:
"What are little girls made of, made of
Sugar and spice, and all that's nice;
And that's what girls are made of!"
While my mother was away, little Virginia poured her cup of tea, which
was already sweetened, into the can. I seized some bread and butter,
and before my mother came down I was clear of the house. Old Nanny made
a good breakfast; the doctor came, and said that she was much better and
would soon be well. The doctor had not left long before Peter Anderson
came and told me to go and mind my business, and that he would sit by
old Nanny. Old Ben, who had heard of it, also called in, and he sat up
with her the next night.
"Did I not tell you that there were others who cared for you, Nanny?"
said I, a few days afterwards.
"Yes, you did, Jack, but I did not believe you; the world is better than
I thought it was. But how will you pay the doctor, Jack?"
"The doctor 'tended you for nothing; he told me so the first night."
"Well, and that widow, too; it's kind of her to send me tea and sugar,
and such nice things to eat."
"Yes, mother, it is."
"And your father, to bring your little dear sister, so nice and clean,
to come and see an old wretch like me in such a dirty hole. Ah, Jack!
now I'm getting well again I like the world better than I did."
In a few days old Nanny had again opened her shop, sitting at the door
as usual, and, as the spring was now well advanced, she gradually
recovered her strength. When I gave up my office of nurse she did not,
however, forget to tell me to bring her good bargains, as I had promised
that I would.