A YOUNG TEACHER.
Nono and Uncle Pelle had been working a whole morning in the garden at
Ekero under Alma's direction. She was going to have a parterre of her
own, according to a plan she had been secretly maturing. Now it was
the time of mid-day rest, and she was prepared to give Nono his first
lesson; a kind of Sunday school on a week day she meant it to be, and
of the most approved sort. Alma had chosen for herself a rustic sofa,
with a round stone table before her, and behind her the trunk of a huge
linden, with its branches towering high over her head. Opposite her
was Nono, on a long bench, awaiting the opening of the Bible and the
big book that lay beside it. Alma, tall, and fair, and slight, looked
seriously at Nono, small, and dark, and plump, sitting expectant, with
his large eyes fixed upon her.
Alma paused a moment, and then looked towards one of the grass plots
that made green divisions in the well-kept vegetable-garden. There sat
Uncle Pelle, his round woollen cap on his head, his red flannel sleeves
drawn down to his wrists, while his coat lay over his knees. Uncle
Pelle was very careful of his health. He did not want to be a trouble
and a burden to Karin. He held a little, thin, worn book, over which
he was intently poring. He did not look up until Alma spoke his name.
Perhaps she had thought that he might be feeling lonely there by
himself, or perhaps she fancied that she had prepared too rich a dish
of instruction for little Nono to receive alone. At least she had
sprung hastily towards the old man. "What are you reading here by
yourself, Uncle Pelle?" she said pleasantly.
Pelle turned to the title-page, showing it to her, and then placed the
book in her hand, open to where he had been reading. Her eye fell on
the passage his long finger pointed out to her. "Use your zeal first
towards yourself, and then wisely towards your neighbour. It is no
great virtue to live in peace with the gentle and the peaceable, for
that is agreeable to every one. It is a great grace and a vigorous and
heroic virtue to live peaceably with the hard, the bad, the lawless,
and with them who set themselves in opposition to us." Alma's eyes
flashed along the lines, and her conscience pricked her with a sharp
prick. She handed the book back to old Pelle, and said quite
modestly,--
"I was going to give Nono a little lesson there under the tree. I have
some nice Scripture pictures, too, that you would perhaps like to see."
"Thanks," said old Pelle, getting up slowly, and falteringly following
the slight figure that flitted on before him.
Pelle took his seat beside Nono. They both clasped their hands and
closed their eyes. Alma was taken by surprise. She saw what they
expected before this "Bible lesson"--a prayer, of course! No prayer
came to her lips. "God help us all! Amen!" she said at last. "Amen!"
came solemnly from her companions.
Alma was so disturbed by this little occurrence that her whole plan for
her lesson went out of her mind. She turned with relief towards the
great book, where her mother had placed in order photographs of some of
the most beautiful pictures illustrating the life of our Saviour that
the world can boast. Alma had meant to explain and expound, but she
continued silent. As old Pelle and Nono looked reverently on as she
turned page after page, their faces glowing with reverent interest, now
and then they exchanged meaning glances or a murmured word; which
plainly showed that they understood the incidents so beautifully given
by the great artists of the past. When they came to the Christ on the
cross, their hands clasped themselves as if involuntarily, and a great
tear found its way down Pelle's worn face. The scene was really before
him. He felt himself standing on Calvary, beside the cross of his
Master.
There was a long pause. Then Alma turned slowly the next page. There,
a modern artist had pictured the bright angels falling adoringly back,
as the Saviour, shining in his glory, burst forth from the tomb.
"Risen!" said Nono joyously, with the relief of childhood that the sad
part of the holy story had now been told.
Alma passed on to the representation of the ascension. Pelle looked at
it, his eyes beaming. He raised his long finger and pointed to where a
bright cloud was for the moment half veiling the sun. "So he went, and
so he shall come again. Blessed be the name of the Lord!" burst from
the old man's lips. He was still looking towards the skies, as he
added, "Even so, come, Lord Jesus!" He bowed his aged head and sat
silent, with clasped hands. Nono and Alma followed his example. When
they looked up an astonished beholder had been added to the group under
the linden.
"How are you, Uncle Pelle?" said the voice of Frans, as he took the old
man cordially by the hand. Pelle looked at him confusedly for a
moment, and then, with apparent difficulty, brought his thoughts back
to this world, and responded to the pleasant greeting.
"Nono is to go fishing with me. I've been to the cottage, and got
permission from Mother Karin. I knew the little brownie would not stir
an inch without her leave.--So now, Nono, we are off for a good fish,
and then a good supper for you and me.--Your highness will excuse me
for interrupting your little meeting," added Frans, with mock
politeness. "I hope it has been profitable to all parties."
Alma compelled herself to keep silence, and to respond pleasantly to
the thanks of Pelle and Nono for what they called "the nice lesson."
They neither of them understood that they had been the teachers, and
the fair, slight girl their humble and abashed pupil.
Alma took her Bible in her hand, and went into the house to send a
servant for the great album that lay on the stone table. She sat down
in her room in a most disturbed frame of mind, ashamed of her first
effort as a teacher, and irritated that Nono should have come under the
very influence she would have most dreaded for him, even that of her
own brother.
Then came a voice from below gently calling "Alma." The loving part of
her nature at once took the upper hand, and the fond daughter went down
to her father, ready to do anything he could ask of her for his joy or
comfort.