One summer day a rosy-cheeked country girl was walking along the busy
streets of a crowded city. Once or twice she had asked her way, and her
last direction made her turn into a narrow lane, and then into a
narrower court. A few minutes before, she had been admiring the gay shop
windows; now, she had to hold her breath, the air was so dreadfully bad,
and to pick her way among black pools and gutters. No fresh breezes, no
sunshine, could get in there, and all the poor little children that
lived in the dirty houses round looked pale and ill. The young woman
asked for No. 10; and when she he had found it she inquired for Roger
Block, and was shewn into a room where there seemed to be a number of
people and children crowded together almost in the dark. Roger was her
little brother, and she knew his face among them all, long as it was
since she had seen him, and sickly as he looked. The poor Irish people
he was with had taken him in when his mother died and he was left
friendless, and had given him a share of their scanty stock of food and
their little room, though there were a man and his wife, six children,
and an old grandfather, with only that one dark room to live in. He was
now to go with his sister Nancy to the farm where she was servant: her
kind master had asked him. Roger was a grave, quiet boy. He bid his
friends good-bye without showing much sorrow; but Nancy's eyes
overflowed as she thanked them for their goodness, and helped the woman
to make Roger's face as clean as half a pint of muddy water could make
it, and to smooth down his shabby pinafore. He had no packing to do, for
the clothes he wore were all he had; so he took his sister by the hand,
and they went together to the inn where the wagon that brought her to
the town had put up, and started for the farm in it before night.
Roger settled himself on some empty sacks and fell asleep, and there he
slept all night, with Nancy and the wagoner's wife, who had come to keep
her company, by his side. At five in the morning he was roused, for they
were at the farm, and Nancy told him to come with her, for she must go
and help the missis to milk the cows.
Roger got out of the wagon. What a new world he was in! Instead of the
dark, crowded, stifling room, he was accustomed to, he was standing at
the gate of a large field. The sun had just risen, and every blade of
grass sparkled with dew-drops. The air was full of sweet scents. There
was a grove of trees in sight, with cattle lying under them. The village
church appeared in the distance. Bright flowers were on the ground.
Birds were singing. Never, in all his life, did Roger forget that
minute.
He walked by Nancy's side down the field, and she told him that was the
missis milking one of the cows; and she shewed him how to pull his front
hair when he made his bow after he had been spoken to.
"So you have brought your brother," said her mistress, continuing to
milk the cow while she spoke. "Be a good boy, and we will see what can
be done for you."
At a sign from Nancy, Roger pulled the front lock of his hair and tried
to make a bow, and then stood staring out of his large eyes, and
thinking he never saw anything so wonderful or pleasant as all this. The
sheepdog came up to him and made acquaintance with him, and then Mrs.
Truman told Nancy to carry in the milk pail that was full, and she would
soon come with the other. On their way they met Farmer Truman, who was
going his rounds of the farm before breakfast, on horseback.
"Well, Nancy," he said, "so that's the boy. Be a good boy, and we shall
see what we can do for you."
Roger pulled his hair again. And now he went to the dairy with Nancy. It
seemed to him a wonderful place, so clean, airy, and sweet, with numbers
of pans of what Nancy told him was milk, standing in rows, and great
jars of cream, and multitudes of rolls of butter. But the mistress came
in, and then Nancy had plenty to do, and he must wait outside. No
matter, however. All was wonder and pleasure to him. There were sheep
feeding, and turkeys, geese, ducks, cocks, and hens wandering about. He
did not even know the names of these different kinds of poultry. He had
never seen any like them, except a few ragged, dirty cocks and hens in
the court.
Presently he was called to breakfast in the kitchen, and sat down among
the ploughmen and carters. It was more astonishing than all to see how
they ate, and to find that he could have as much as he wanted, and was
eating too. There were great slices of bread, bacon, and pudding, and
hot coffee, with a quantity of milk in it. After breakfast he saw the
farm-yard, the great hay-stacks, and corn-stacks, and the barns. Such
high places! some full of corn stored away,--one that looked empty and
immense at first, but in which he soon saw there were all manner of
things, strange to him, and which he admired very much;--these were
various tools and machines, spades, rakes, hoes, sickles, hay-knives,
hay-forks, pitch-forks, brooms, harrows, chaff-cutters, and numbers of
other fine things.
Then he saw the stables, with the fine, strong, well-fed horses in their
stalls, and saw the men take them out to their work again; and he saw
the large cow-house, ready for the cows when they were put up in winter,
with the calf-pens in one corner; and he saw the pig-styes, with all the
pigs, large and small. At dinner and at supper he had as much as he
could eat. At night he slept at the wagoner's in a little bed up in the
garret; the moon shone in at the window in the roof when he lay down,
and he saw the blue sky through it when he awoke, and heard sparrows
chirping in the thatch. This was all the greatest wonder and delight to
him.
Three days of this kind of life had passed, when Farmer Truman sent for
Nancy and Roger.
"I have got an admission for Roger into the Orphan School of our county
town," said he. "Your mother longed for you to be a scholar and learn a
trade. Be a good boy, and you may make a man of yourself."
Nancy curtsied, and thanked the master. Roger said nothing, and Nancy
could not make him understand that he ought to make his bow. That very
day his friend the wagoner took him to the school. It was a fine
building, with large rooms, and a great many boys. Everything was in
good order. Roger was dressed in new clothes, and well taken care of,
but he looked very grave, and was thought a stupid boy.
Three evenings afterwards, as the wagoner's wife was shutting her
shutter, she heard a tap at the door, and when she opened it there stood
Roger.
"Why, Roger, how came you here?" said she.