_SCHOOL._
"But, grandmamma," said Maggie, when her mother had been bolstered
up, and was enjoying her nice soup, "I do not think waiting on mamma
is a bit of a duty; I think it is a great, great pleasure."
"So do I, Maggie; but a pleasure may be a duty, may it not?"
Maggie looked doubtful.
"I don't quite see how, grandmamma. I thought a duty was something
one ought to do, but did not quite want to do,--like forgiving people
when they are unkind to us, or putting away my playthings when I
would rather leave them; or--or--trying to have a cheerful mind about
going to school, 'cause it's a help to mamma;" and Maggie smiled a
wistful, half-tearful little smile, which went straight to the hearts
of her mother and grandmother.
"But even a disagreeable duty may bring its own pleasure and
satisfaction with it, darling, if we only go about it in the right
way," said Mrs. Stanton; "and there is many a pleasant thing that is
also a duty. You say you love to wait on your mother; but suppose
you did not like it, would it be right for you to refuse to do what
you could for her?"
"No indeed," answered Maggie promptly.
"Mamma seems to like that jelly pretty well," said grandmamma; "but
is there no other reason why she should take it?"
"Yes," said Maggie; "because the doctor said she must eat everything
that would make her strong and well."
"So, then, you see a pleasant thing may be as much a duty as a
disagreeable one. Right is right, wrong is wrong, and duty is duty;
and we cannot alter that, however it may affect ourselves. Only we
must try, as I meant my story to show you, to do _first_ the duty
that is plainest, and which lies nearest to our hand, for that is
God's work, and the thing He means us to do."
Bessie had been listening very thoughtfully to all that passed, and
now she said gravely,--
"Grandmamma, I s'pose you mean me to take a lesson of your story, and
to understand that if it is Maggie's duty to go to school and study,
it is mine to stay at home and not study much, 'cause mamma wishes
it. So one way is _her_ duty, and another way is _my_ duty."
"I did not mean the story more for one than for the other," said Mrs.
Stanton, smiling; "but I am glad you want to learn something from it,
dear; and I think you are right in saying that your duty lies in one
way, and Maggie's in another. See who is knocking at the door,
Maggie."
It was Patrick to say Miss Ashton was below; and he was told to ask
her to walk up, while the children were sent from the room, that
mamma might be at liberty to talk to her.
Miss Ashton did not stay very long; but it seemed to Maggie and
Bessie an age, as they sat upon a hall chair, and waited for her to
come from mamma's room; so that, as Maggie said, "They might see if
her look had any good news for them."
Not only her looks, but her pleasant voice also, brought good news to
them; for, as she met the two wistful faces which gazed up into hers,
she stopped and said, smiling, "So I am to have two dear little
scholars from here, instead of one, if your papa will consent."
Instantly every corner of Maggie's face brightened into smiles and
dimples; while Bessie, slipping off the chair, seized upon Miss
Ashton's hand.
"Oh, could you, Miss Ashton? could you, really?" she exclaimed.
"Could I what? Agree to take a loving little girl with her sister,
and teach her just as much as her mother thinks it best for her to
learn? Well, I think I shall try and see how it will work."
At this Maggie too came down from the chair, and took Miss Ashton's
other hand.
"I am so very much obliged to you, ma'am," she said, too much
delighted to remember that the lady was almost a stranger to her.
"Yes," said Bessie, "you can't know how very much we thank you,
'cause you don't know how much accustomed Maggie and I are to each
other."
"And I hope you will soon both become accustomed to me, and learn to
love me," said Miss Ashton; and then she kissed them, and, telling
them she hoped to see them at school on the next Monday, she went
away; and the children ran back to their mother's room to make very
sure that the good news was true.
"Yes," mamma said, "it had all been arranged." Miss Ashton was very
kind, and said she would give Bessie lessons by herself, if she were
not able to keep up with the rest of the class, and she might amuse
herself quietly during the rest of the time; and nothing now remained
but to hear what papa thought of this new plan. Only one promise
mamma said she would require; and that was, that when the weather was
such that she did not think it best for Bessie to go out, Maggie
should go alone cheerfully. Maggie readily agreed, and when papa
came home and said, since mamma and Miss Ashton thought it would do,
he should make no objection, the two little sisters were so happy in
the arrangement which kept them together, that even Maggie had no
room for dread of the new school and new faces.
So, on the next Monday morning, there were two serious, but not sad,
little damsels who stood one on each side of mamma, ready hatted and
cloaked, waiting till papa should give the word to start for school.
Serious, for this was a grave and important matter to them--quite a
new step in life, and to Maggie a very trying one. Still, Bessie was
with her, so she could bear it.
Mr. Bradford gave the word, and their mother was hugged and kissed,
as though the parting were to be for a month instead of three hours,
and they went away. Mamma had bidden them good-bye very cheerily,
and it was as well they did not see the tear or two that rolled down
her pale cheek, or how sorrowfully she looked after them, as she
thought how she should miss their sweet company during those morning
hours when they had been accustomed to be with her. But she knew it
was best; and so, after the way of dear mammas, would not let them
see her own regret, lest it should add to their trouble.
Mrs. and Miss Ashton lived but a short distance from Mrs. Bradford,
and in a curious, old-fashioned house that was very different from
most city houses. It was only two storeys high, but very wide and
deep, and away at the back stretched a garden as old-fashioned as the
house, with stiff box hedges, gravel walks bordered with white
pebbles, a fountain in the centre, and at the farther end two old
summer-houses covered with grape-vines. The two sides which bordered
on the street were guarded by a high picket-fence, the third by a low
stone wall beyond which were half a dozen vacant lots; while on the
opposite corner, at right angles with Miss Ashton's house, lived Mr.
Peters, who kept the school which Harry and Fred attended, and his
boys were accustomed to use these lots as their ball-ground.
Maggie and Bessie thought it a very remarkable and pleasant
circumstance that these two houses, standing thus by themselves on
one square, should be occupied by the two schools, and it gave them a
more homelike feeling to know that their brothers were so near.
Mr. Bradford asked for Miss Ashton, and when the young lady came
down, he said a few words to her, and then, kissing his two little
daughters, left them in her care. Miss Ashton talked very pleasantly
and kindly to them as she led them up-stairs, followed by Jane, who
had also come to take off the children's hats and cloaks; but they
both felt very homesick as papa walked away, and had no heart to
answer her. It seemed worse still when their walking-things were
taken off, and Jane went away, looking very unwilling to leave them.
Maggie's eyes were full of tears, and Bessie only kept hers back by
the help of a feeling that she was there to be a comfort to her
sister, and so must not give way.
But things appeared brighter when Miss Ashton took them into the
large, pleasant front room where the rest of the class were
assembled. Here were seven little girls, and among them were Lily
Norris, Gracie Howard, and Nellie and Carrie Ransom,--all looking
very happy, and very much pleased to see Maggie and Bessie, and not
at all as though school were a thing to be dreaded.
Place was soon found for the two sisters, and they were seated
together, with Lily on Maggie's other side, and Gracie by Bessie.
Next came the Ransoms. All these six were well acquainted and were
glad to meet; but the three on the other side of the room were
strangers to them and to one another, and looked shy and
uncomfortable; and Bessie, as she talked with her young friends, felt
sorry for them, and thought she would speak to them, if she only knew
their names and what to say.
Presently Miss Ashton, who had left the room, came back with another
child, and this one made the number of the class ten. The last comer
was a pale, sad-eyed little girl, dressed in deep mourning; and she,
too, was a stranger to all the others.
"Now," said Miss Ashton, "I shall leave you for ten minutes to become
acquainted. Then my mother will come, and we will open school."
"But, Miss Ashton," said Bessie, as the lady turned to go.
"Well, dear?"
Bessie hesitated for a moment, for she thought perhaps Miss Ashton
would think she was taking a liberty; but when she saw with what a
kind smile she looked at her, she made up her mind to speak. She did
so, not boldly, but with an outspoken, yet modest little way, that
was all her own.
"You see we don't know each other's names," she said; "and I thought
if you was to in-tro-duce us, maybe we could be acquainted sooner."
"To be sure," said Miss Ashton, smiling. "Thank you for reminding
me, Bessie. I did not think the first lesson taught here this
morning would be one of politeness, to be learned by myself."
"O Miss Ashton," said Bessie, "I would not be so saucy as to say you
were not polite! I only thought perhaps you forgot."
"And so I did, dear; but true politeness should teach us to remember
all those little things which may make others comfortable, or put
them at their ease; and I am afraid we grown people often forget that
children need such attentions as well as those who are older."
Then she introduced them all to one another, and went away.
The four whose names were new, were Belle Powers, Dora Johnson, Laura
Middleton, and Fanny Leroy. Belle was the little girl in black, who
looked so sad.
"Have any of you looked what is in your desks?" asked Nellie Ransom,
by way of beginning a conversation. "Carrie and I were the first
here, and Miss Ashton showed us. There's a slate, and a
spelling-book, and a drawing-book, and a geography, and lots of
things. Lift up the covers and look. She'll let you."
No sooner said than done. Ten low desks were ranged around the room,
each with a chair of suitable size before it; and one had been given
to each child. Every lid, but one, was raised at Nellie's words, and
little heads were popped within to discover what lay hidden there.
This gave food enough for talk; even Maggie had something to say;
only one tongue was silent, and that was Belle's.
"I guess that is 'Sulky Sue,'" whispered Gracie Howard to Maggie and
Bessie, looking over at the mournful, quiet child. "She'd better
turn her face to the wall, till she comes to."
"Oh, don't!" answered Maggie. "She'll hear you;" and Bessie said, "I
think she feels sorry about something, and her dress is so black.
Maybe somebody of hers is dead."
"Yes," said Maggie; "and I'm real sorry for her. I would go and
speak to her, if--if--I only knew what to say."
"I'll go," said Bessie, and, rising, she walked over to Belle. She
did not know what to say either; but she did what was better: she put
her arm around the child's neck, and kissed her lips in a way which
told Belle of the sympathy that was in her heart.
Then Belle's tears overflowed, and, putting both her own arms about
Bessie's waist, she laid her head against her, and cried silently.
"What is the matter?" whispered Bessie.
"I want my mamma," sobbed the child.
"But you know you'll see her pretty soon," said Bessie. "We are only
going to stay in school a little while, and then we'll go home and
see our mammas."
"I'll never see my mamma again," said Belle; "never, never, till I'm
dead myself; and I wish God would let me be dead now, only then papa
would be all alone, and he says I am all his comfort. But, oh dear!
mamma is never there for me to go home to."
At this, Bessie's tears also ran over; and as the other children,
drawn by Belle's distress, gathered about them, she pointed to the
black dress, and said with trembling lips, "Her mamma."
Then Maggie, forgetting to feel strange, went down on her knees
beside Belle, and began to caress her; and Gracie, full of remorse
for having called her "Sulky Sue," seized on one of her hands and
began kissing it; while the others stood around in silent pity.
Their sympathy did Belle good. She did not mourn the less for her
lost mother, but she did not now feel so lonesome and cast astray as
she had done a moment since; and, lifting her face with a faint smile
struggling through her tears, she held up her lips to Bessie for
another kiss, saying, "I love you, you're good; they're all good."
As she spoke, the folding-doors at the end of the room were thrown
open, and Miss Ashton appeared, and hurried towards them, rather
dismayed at finding her young flock in trouble so soon. It was
speedily explained; and Maggie and Bessie felt sure that they should
love their new teacher, as they saw how gentle and tender she was
with the motherless little one. She did not say much, for Mrs.
Ashton was waiting to open school; but, after sending the others to
their seats, she led Belle to her own chair, which stood before the
table in the centre of the room, and lifted her upon her lap, laying
her head upon her bosom, and passing her hand over the child's hair
and face with a soothing touch which soon quieted her sobs, and made
her feel that Miss Ashton was her friend and comforter as well as her
teacher.
The opening of the folding-doors had given to view a second room,
where were gathered ten larger girls, from fourteen to seventeen
years old--very tall young ladies they seemed to Maggie and Bessie;
and Mrs. Ashton, a grave, elderly lady, in a widow's dress, sat just
within the doors, where she could be seen and heard from both rooms.
She opened school with a short prayer, and then said a few words to
all the children, large and small, telling them she hoped they would
be obedient, happy, industrious, and kind to one another.
"Now I would like to hear the names of all these little girls," she
said.
The answers came very well until it was Maggie's turn to give hers,
but the poor child was in an agony of bashfulness, and could by no
means speak. While Mrs. Ashton was talking, she had happened to look
up, and caught a pair of mischievous, dancing black eyes fixed upon
her from the other room. After that, she could not help glancing up
at them every moment or two; and each time she did so her colour
deepened and deepened and her head sank lower and lower; for the
owner of the black eyes kept smiling and nodding, making odd faces,
and shaking her finger, till Maggie did not know whether to laugh or
cry; and by the time the question came to her, her small stock of
courage and her voice were both gone.
"Cannot you tell me your name, my dear?" asked Mrs. Ashton.
"Her name is Maggie Stanton Bradford," said Bessie, taking her sister
by the hand.
"You should let your sister speak for herself, my dear," said the
lady.
"No, ma'am," said Bessie, respectfully but steadily, "I came to
school to be of use and comfort to Maggie, and when she don't want to
speak 'cause she feels shy, why, she likes me to do it for her, so I
have to. And, ma'am, you said you wanted us to be industrious; but
I'm 'fraid I can't. I have to be rather lazy."
"My dear child," said Mrs. Ashton, "you surely do not come to school
to be lazy."
"Oh yes, ma'am!" said Bessie gravely. "Mamma 'spressly said that I
was not to study much, and that was condition that I came to school."
Bessie was growing rather frightened herself at having to speak
before so many; but she thought she ought to let Mrs. Ashton know how
and why she had come to school, and what was to be expected of her;
and that she might as well have her say out at once.
The other children were all listening to her in great astonishment,
and some of the great girls in the back room were beginning to laugh.
Bessie wondered why they did so, and thought they were not very
polite. Mrs. Ashton heard her with a half-smile breaking over her
pale face, and Miss Ashton was smiling outright.
"Oh," said Mrs. Ashton, "I understand. You are Bessie Bradford.
Mary, I think you should make this matter a little plainer."
Miss Ashton said she would do so; and then the doors were closed
again, and the business of the day began.
"Now, little Belle," said Miss Ashton, "will you go to your seat?"
Belle clung to her teacher, and whispered something in her ear.
"Belle wishes very much to sit by Bessie Bradford," said Miss Ashton.
"How shall we fix it? Will Bessie change her seat, or will Maggie or
Gracie give up hers? It is only for to-day; to-morrow Belle will
feel more at home, and that you are all her friends."
Maggie had not yet recovered from the effect of the black eyes,
although they were now shut from view; and she tightened her hold of
Bessie's hand, feeling that she could scarcely bear to be separated
from her just now.
Gracie did not want to give up her seat either, for she liked to sit
by Bessie; but while she hesitated, and Miss Ashton waited, she
remembered when they were at Quam Beach summer before last, and went
to Sunday-school in the barn, Maggie had gone to sit by Mamie Stone,
a girl whom no other child would have near her, and with whom Maggie
had just had a quarrel. And she thought if she would do so much for
a quarrelsome child, who had been unkind to her and her sister, might
not she give up her seat to this little, sad, motherless one, who
already looked on the dear Bessie as her friend? She had called her
"Sulky Sue," too!
Maggie would have been very much astonished if she had been told that
the small act of self-denial and forgiveness which she had long since
forgotten was bearing fruit now; but so it was, and, jumping up,
Gracie said, "Belle may have my seat by Bessie to-day and to-morrow
too, Miss Ashton."
Gracie felt quite repaid when she saw Belle's grateful smile, and the
comfort she seemed to take in being close by Bessie.
Miss Ashton said they would have no regular lessons for that day, as
she must first find out how much each one knew, and then arrange
their studies; and she told Bessie she thought she had misunderstood
her mamma's meaning. She did not wish her to be a lazy girl; she
wanted her to be industrious, and try to do well whatever was given
her to do; but she had feared Bessie would not be satisfied if she
were not allowed to go on as fast as Maggie and some of the others;
and _that_ she did not think would be wise. When she went home, she
must ask her mamma if it were not so.
Then she questioned them all in the multiplication and addition
tables, and in geography, made them spell words of different lengths,
and heard each child read aloud; after which she said she should
divide her class into two--Bessie, Belle, and Carrie Ransom in one;
and the rest, she thought, could keep on together. Then she set
their lessons for the next day, and afterwards read them an
interesting story of a good and wise young prince, who had lived
many, many years ago. This was Miss Ashton's way of teaching
history; she would read or tell them of some good or great person on
one day, and the next she would question them about her story, and
see how much they remembered.
In fact, she made all their studies interesting; she had such a
pleasant, easy way of teaching. For instance, she would say, "Belle,
how many are three and three?"
Belle could not remember.
"Suppose three little girls are going to have a tea-party, you and
Bessie and Carrie, and three more, Maggie and Gracie and Lily, come
and ask to be invited. If you say yes, then how many little girls
would there be at the party?"
"Six," answered Belle promptly; and Carrie said, "But maybe we would
be dis'bliging, and say no, and then we would be only three;" at
which the other children laughed, and so did Miss Ashton; but Belle
never forgot again that three and three made six.
They learned none the slower for this pleasant,
take-it-home-to-one's-self kind of teaching, you may be sure; and, as
the weeks went by, there was not one of the little class whose
friends did not find her greatly improved.