NELLY watched at the gate for a long time, hoping to see again the
kind young lady who had given her the flowers; but in this she was
disappointed. It was, in fact, not Miss Powell's usual road to church.
She had come that way to visit a sick person, and she went home by the
other and shorter way. Nelly saw the young ladies who had excited her
envy in the morning. They came upon her side of the street this time,
and she had a nearer view of them.
"How nice they look!" she thought. "And they can go to school and learn
to read and write, and, I dare say, to paint pictures, and play music
on the piano; while I can't learn any thing or be anybody. It is too
bad! I do think granny might let me go to school. And yet, if I did,
who would there be to take care of the cow? and if she wasn't taken
care of, what should we have to live on? I don't see any way out of it.
Oh, dear! I wonder what I was ever made for?"
What would Nelly have said if she had known that some of those very
school-girls she envied looked upon themselves as greatly abused by
being made to go to school, and that they exercised far more ingenuity
and pains in shirking their lessons—in trying not to learn—than
would have been needed to acquire them? Nelly Ryan, leaning over her
grandmother's gate, with no one to teach her even to read, thought she
would be perfectly happy if she could only go to boarding-school, and
walk to church on Sunday morning with a nice dress and clean collar.
Nelly Lambert, who had been taught and cared for all her life,—whose
father spent hundreds of dollars every year upon her education,—had
been fretting that very morning at being obliged to dress and go to
church, and thought if she had no lessons to learn, and nothing to do
but to amuse herself all day long, SHE would be perfectly happy. Both
were, no doubt, mistaken, since perfect happiness is hardly to be found
in this world; but I think Nelly Lambert's mistake was the greater of
the two.
Presently Kitty Brown came along home from Sunday-school, with her
Bible and library-book in her hand. Kitty "lived out" with one of the
families whom Nelly supplied with milk; but her mother was a neighbour
of Mrs. Ryan's, and her mistress was in the habit of allowing her to go
home after Sunday-school on Sundays and stay till near teatime.
Kitty had always had a liking for Nelly, and the girls would perhaps
have become intimate, if Mrs. Brown had allowed it; but though she was
always kind to Mrs. Ryan and her grand-daughter, she did not think
Nelly a very suitable companion for Kitty. The girls always spoke when
they met, however, and generally had a few minutes of gossip when Nelly
carried round the milk. Kitty knew all about Lord Glengall and the
former grandeur of the Butlers, and, as she had a lively imagination,
and was very fond of stories, she had constructed more than one pretty
romance relating to Nelly's future prospects. She used to like very
much to talk over these romances with Nelly herself; but Nelly had of
late become rather shy of them.
"Why, Nelly, how nice you look!" said Kitty, stopping to speak to her
friend; "but what made you cut off all your hair?"
"It tangled so I could not comb it out," replied Nelly. "I wish it was
straight like yours, and then I could keep it decent."
"Why, Nelly Ryan! I would give any thing in the world to have my hair
curl as yours does; but it looks real pretty as it is, and it will have
plenty of time to grow again before you are a young lady, you know."
"I guess it will," said Nelly. "It will have time to grow and grow
white before that time comes."
"Oh, you don't know! For all you can tell, the news of your fortune may
come to-morrow."
"Don't, Kitty!" said Nelly, impatiently. "I am sick of all that stuff,
and I don't believe in it, either. I want to be decent now, and to have
something, and not be always thinking about what will never happen. I
don't feel as if I ever wanted to hear of those things again. I think
about them and hear granny's stories till they all seem real to me, and
then I just wake up, and every thing is as poor and mean as ever, and
looks ten times worse than it did before. I am sick of it all, and I am
sick of this world," said Nelly, passionately. "I should like to die
and go somewhere else."
Kitty stood aghast at this outbreak from Nelly. She had never seen
her in such a mood before, and she did not understand it. She did not
reflect that the day-dreams which served her for amusement now and then
were all her friend had to live upon. One may like some oranges once
in a while, when one has had enough of solid food; but a man who had
nothing else to eat would soon starve to death upon it.
"I don't think you ought to say that, Nelly," Kitty answered, at last.
"If you should die and go to heaven, it would be very nice; but if you
didn't, you know—"
"I don't see how I am ever to get to heaven, either," said Nelly. "I
can't read the Bible or any thing, and there is no one to teach me.
Well, I know one thing. I wish there had never been any such person as
I am."
Kitty was at a stand. She did not know how to meet Nelly's mood at all.
She saw that the poor girl was very unhappy, and she would have given a
great deal to comfort her if she had only known how. She had a sort of
indistinct idea that when people were in trouble the Bible ought some
way to do them good, and she tried to think of a text; but she could
remember none which seemed suitable to Nelly's present case. She had
learned a great many Bible verses in her life, but it had never before
occurred to her to use any of them. The only thing she could think of
to console Nelly she did. She put her arm round her neck and kissed
her. The honest expression of sympathy always does good. Nelly's heart
felt a little lightened of its load as she returned Kitty's embrace.
"You are real good, anyway," said she. "Oh, Kitty," she added,
suddenly, "will you do something for me? A lady gave me a card this
morning with a picture and verses on it. Will you read it for me?"
"Of course I will," said Kitty, heartily. "Where is it?"
Nelly ran into the house and brought out her card.
"Come and sit on our steps," said Kitty. "It is shady there, and mother
will know where I am."
"Well," said Nelly; and she called to her grandmother, "Granny, I am
going with Kitty a little while."
"All right, dear; but don't be long, for I'll soon have the dinner
ready."
Mrs. Brown met her daughter at the door with a hearty kiss. The house
was not very much larger than Mrs. Ryan's; but what a contrast it
presented! Every thing was in perfect order, and as clean as hands
could make it. There were flowers all about,—in the little garden, on
the table under the glass, on the high old-fashioned bureau, on the
window-sill. Every thing was sweet and cool and fresh, from the white
curtains to the clean, white door-step; and yet Mrs. Brown was not so
much richer than Mrs. Ryan.
"I am going to sit down here and read to Nelly a few minutes, please,
mother," said Kitty. "A lady has given her a pretty card with a hymn on
it."
Mrs. Brown made no objection, and the two girls sat down side by side
in the shade. The hymn was that familiar one beginning—
"Around the throne of God in heaven."
Nelly listened attentively as Kitty read it through.
"There is a real pretty tune to that," said Kitty. "Shall I sing it for
you?"
"Please," said Nelly.
Kitty had a sweet little voice, and sung very nicely. When she had
finished, Nelly still sat looking at the sky.
"It would be good if all that was real and true," said she, at last.
"Why, Nelly!" exclaimed Kitty, scandalized. "It is real and true. It is
all in the Bible."
"I know folks say so," replied Nelly; "but it don't seem real. It seems
to me just like my granny's stories. Don't it to you?"
"I never think much about it," said Kitty, honestly. "Somehow I have
such good times now. But Nelly, it is surely so. I will read about it
in the Bible, if you want me to. Shall I?"
Nelly assented. Kitty knew very well where in the Bible to find what
she wanted. She liked to read in the book of Revelation, just as she
loved Mrs. Ryan's stories, because it fed her imagination. She turned
over the leaves and read the last two or three chapters. Nelly listened
eagerly; and as she listened she formed images in her mind, clear and
distinct, of the river of the water of life, clear as crystal—of the
tree of life growing on its banks—of the golden streets, and all the
rest. She drew a long breath when Kitty had finished.
"A'n't that perfectly lovely? But I don't suppose I can ever get
there, though," she added, in her old, despairing tone. "They wouldn't
have me there."
"Oh, yes," returned Kitty, confidently. "You can go just as well as any
one else. Mother," she called, "can't Nelly go to heaven?"
"Of course she can, if she is a good girl," answered Mrs. Brown, from
within. "Why not?"
"There!" said Kitty, triumphantly. "Didn't I tell you so? There was
a beggar once, all covered with sores, and he had nothing to eat but
crumbs from a rich man's table; and when he died, the angels came and
carried him to heaven."
"I suppose he was very good."
"Yes, I suppose so," said Kitty, rather doubtfully. "He must have been,
of course."
"There is granny calling," said Nelly. "Thank you very much, Kitty."
"After all, I don't see how it is going to do me much good; only very
good people go there," said poor Nelly, as she walked homeward. "I am
sure I am not very good; and I don't see how I ever can be, living as I
do. But it seems kind of pleasant to think there is such a place, after
all."
The next day, as Nelly was standing by, the gate, watching her cow,
which was pasturing on the common opposite, Mrs. Vandake came to her
door and called her.
"Nelly, can you do an errand for me?"
"I guess so," replied Nelly, "if granny will mind the cow."
"I want you to go down town directly and put this letter in the
post-office," continued Mrs. Vandake. "I am afraid to wait till Mr.
Vandake comes home, lest I should be late for the mail; and I should
not like to miss the chance of sending it. You can run right down to
the general office, can't you? Ask your granny."
Mrs. Ryan made no objection, and Nelly was soon equipped in her
granny's best shawl and her own ragged straw hat. Mrs. Vandake handed
her the letter, and promised her a cake when she came back.
"What a pretty child!" said a lady who was visiting Mrs. Vandake. "But
can you trust her? Won't she hide the letter, or throw it away to save
herself trouble?"
"Oh, no," replied Mrs. Vandake. "She has often done errands for me, and
always faithfully. With all their dirt and shiftlessness, both she and
the old woman are strictly honest."
Nelly overheard this conversation as she stopped behind a lilac-bush to
pull up her stocking; and it did her good. "There is one thing decent
about us, anyway," said she.
She did her errand faithfully and quickly; but the letter once in
the office, she thought there could be no harm in indulging in a
little of her favourite amusement; and she began to loiter along the
street, looking in at the shop-windows. The book and print store was
her favourite stopping-place, but there was a great crowd of people
around the door and window, looking at some new pictures; so she could
not get near, and she went on to her second favourite place. This
was a fancy-store,—a corner shop with a very large window, in which
were elegantly arranged all sorts of pretty things,—embroidery, and
patterns, and head-dresses, and wonderful buttons, and other things
of which Nelly could not even guess the use. To-day the bottom of the
window was one mass of beads,—marvellous beads, of all sorts, shapes
and sizes,—green and blue, red and yellow, black and white: some as
large as birds' eggs, others no bigger than mustard-seeds; some like
silver and gold, some like dew-drops, some like sugar-candy. As the sun
shone on the beads, they really formed a splendid mass of colour, which
an older and more cultivated eye than Nelly's might have rested on with
pleasure. The gauze curtain which hung at the back of the window was
completely covered with worsted patterns,—flowers, birds, animals, and
curious arabesques like nothing in particular.
Nelly stood a long time gazing at all these wonders, and then she
passed through an open space into the shop behind. Here were more
wonders and beauties still; but for once Nelly had no eye for them;
for there, behind the counter, as if she were waiting to attend on the
customers, stood the very young lady who had given Nelly the flowers!
Here was a discovery! Nelly forgot all about the beads and patterns,
all about the piece of cake waiting for her in Mrs. Vandake's pantry,
and stood as if rooted to the spot, peeping through the vacant place in
the window. Miss Powell was doing some work which looked very curious
to Nelly. She had a little black thing in her hand, wound with white
thread, which she poked through and through her fingers with marvellous
quickness. A very pretty piece of something like lace hung down from
her left hand. It did not seem to be hard work, for the lady looked
about her, and sometimes talked with another young lady who sat on a
stool winding worsted.
Nelly, as I said, stood as if she grew there, watching Miss Powell as
she worked, unmindful of the people who now and then pushed against
her. At last she was startled by a stiff piece of paper which came
flying down from an upper window in the same building directly into
her face. She caught it in her hand and looked at it. It was a worsted
pattern like those in the window,—a pretty bunch of red and white
roses. For one moment, Nelly felt tempted to keep it. She loved pretty
things, and she had very few of them; but Nelly was, with all her
faults, an honest child, and had never stolen the worth of a six-pence.
In another minute she had reflected with a great rush of joy that here
was a good excuse for going into the shop and speaking to the lady. She
opened the door and entered shyly. Miss Powell was just then waiting
on a customer, and Nelly stood in silence by the counter, looking at
the pretty things in the show-case. Presently the young lady who was
winding worsted turned and spoke to Nelly:—
"Do you want any thing, little girl?"
"I want to speak to that lady," said Nelly, pointing to Miss Powell,
who had finished attending upon her customer and had gone to the back
part of the store.
"Miss Powell," called the other young lady, "here is a child waiting to
speak to you."
"Did you want me, my little girl?" asked Miss Powell, kindly. She did
not for the moment remember Nelly, but she always spoke pleasantly to
every one. She did not have, as I have sometimes seen, one sort of
manner for rich customers and another for poor ones.
"Please, I found this," said Nelly, producing the pattern, which she
had all the time carefully held under her shawl. "I thought it might
belong in here, because it is like those in the window."
"That was very good in you," said Miss Powell. "I see you are an
honest girl. I presume the pattern does belong here; though I do not
understand how it came in the street."
"I think it blew out of the window," said Nelly, her heart beginning to
sink as she saw that Miss Powell did not recognize her.
Just then another lady came part-way down the staircase at the back of
the shop.
"Have you seen any thing of my pattern, Miss Powell?" she asked. "I
left it with my work on the window, and when I came back it was gone. I
am afraid it has fallen into the street; and, if so, my work is ruined."
"Is this it?" asked Miss Powell, holding up the pattern Nelly had found.
"The very thing!" exclaimed Mrs. Kirkland, joyfully. "Where did it come
from?"
"This little girl found it and brought it in."
"You are a very good, honest child," said Mrs. Kirkland to Nelly; "and
I am very much obliged to you. See here," she continued, taking a
pretty little doll from a shelf near by, "would you like this for your
own?"
Nelly hung down her head.
"Perhaps you see some other thing you would rather have?" said Mrs.
Kirkland, good-naturedly. "Don't be afraid."
"Please," said Nelly, taking courage at the kindness of the lady's look
and tone, and pointing to Miss Powell's work, while her heart beat fast
and her colour rose, "please, I should like one of those things, if I
could learn how to do that work."
"Well, I declare, what an odd little thing you are!" said Mrs.
Kirkland. "What is your name?"
"Nelly Ryan," answered Nelly; and, growing still bolder, she added,
speaking to Miss Powell, "I saw you yesterday by granny's gate; and you
gave me some flowers and a card."
"So I did!" said Miss Powell. "I thought I had seen those gray eyes
before; but you have cut your hair off, haven't you?"
"It got so tangled, and I couldn't comb it out straight," said Nelly.
"Well, but Nelly, do you really think you could learn to make tatting?"
asked Miss Powell.
"I could try," answered Nelly. "It looks kind of easy!"
"It is easy after you once know how," said Miss Powell; "but it is not
easy to learn."
"Do try to teach her," said Mrs. Kirkland. "Some people take it up very
quickly."
Nelly looked on with great interest as Miss Powell took a shuttle,
wound some thread on it, and began the work. Now, tatting, though very
easy to do, is one of the hardest things in the world to teach and to
learn. Nelly tried faithfully and watched closely; but after more than
an hour she seemed no nearer than at first, and she began to be utterly
discouraged.
"I can't do it!" said she, throwing the shuttle at last into Miss
Powell's lap, while the tears rose to her eyes. "I can't see into it
anyhow. I might have known I couldn't," she added. "What's the use of
my ever trying to do any thing or to be anybody?"
"Oh, you must not be discouraged," said Miss Powell, touched by the
tone of utter despondent hopelessness in which these last words
were spoken. "You have not been nearly as long at it as I was when
I first tried to learn. I was older than you are, too,—a great girl
of fifteen,—but I tried the whole afternoon, and finally gave up in
despair, and had a hearty cry after it."
"But you did learn?" said Nelly, much interested.
"Yes; and I will tell you how. After I went to bed, I began to reflect
upon the matter, and made up my mind that I could do what other
people could, and that I would not be beaten by a piece of thread. So
I lighted my candle, found my shuttle, and worked at it till three
o'clock in the morning. I made a quarter of a yard before I stopped. So
you see I had a much harder time than you have had yet. Come; take it
up and try once more."
"I can't," said Nelly; "granny will want me."
"Well, then, take the shuttle home with you and try there," said Mrs.
Kirkland. "If you learn to do it right, I will give you a ball of
thread to make some for yourself. You can come in the next time you
come down town, and show Miss Powell or me what you have done."
"What an odd child!" she added, after Nelly had gone. "I should think
there was the making of a woman in her. Do you know any thing about
her, Miss Powell?"
"Only that she lives in a little tumble-down cottage on the upper part
of College Street, opposite the common. I found her crying yesterday,
and comforted her as well as I could. I wonder if she will succeed with
her tatting?"
"I rather think she will," said Mrs. Kirkland.