MISS RUTH MAKES THE ACQUAINTANCE OF OLD G. A. R.
The Angel, as the cooler weather came on, being suitably clothed by Miss
Stannard and the invisible though still generous Mrs. Tony, and the good
ladies of the Tenement seeing that she was properly fed, her little
ladyship continued to thrive, and to pursue her way, sweet and innocent,
in the midst of squalor, poverty and wickedness such as Mary and Norma
could not always hide, even from her baby eyes.
True to the promise these ladies had made, she appeared regularly at
Kindergarten in the charge of her faithful squire, the Major, whose own
interest in the daily work had never flagged since the day he first
agreed to help Miss Stannard.
It was with surprise, therefore, that, late in November, Miss Ruth
noted the absence of the two for several successive days.
"Childern's obliged to get wore out fiddlin' with beads an' paper an'
such, in time," said the perverse and unconverted 'Tildy Peggins.
"That's the reason they's constant droppin' off, an' new ones comin' in.
There ain't enough willainy in Kindergarten to keep their minds
h'occupied. They's pinin' for the streets long afore you'd h'ever
believe it,--their 'earts ain't satisfied with beads and paper,
childern's obliged to have a little willainy mixed in."
But despite 'Tildy's pessimistic views, on the fifth morning of their
absence, Miss Ruth had just determined to send around to the Tenement,
when a knock summoned her to the door.
Outside stood the smiling Angel, in her little winter cloak and hood,
her hand in that of a very large, very grizzled, and very
military-looking man, who greeted Miss Stannard with a salute reminding
her at once of Joey.
"What has become of my friend, the Major?" she inquired, ushering them
into the school-room.
"Joey couldn't come," explained the Angel, mournfully.
"It was to tell you about him, ma'am, I stepped around," replied the
man, gazing admiringly about the bright room, with its pictures, its
growing plants, its tables, and dozens of little red chairs. "It is a
pretty place now, I must say, and it's no wonder the little chap likes
to come here. He's been that worried, and fretting so about the little
one not getting to school, that I promised him I'd march her 'round here
every day if he'd call a halt on his fretting."
"He is sick, then?" Miss Ruth inquired.
"Well, it didn't seem as if it was enough to lay him off duty,"
responded the man, as he regarded Miss Ruth with friendly gaze; "he's a
knowin' little shaver, the Major is, and great on tryin' to help me."
"Are you the friend that he calls Old G. A. R.?" inquired Miss Ruth,
with sudden intuition, as she smiled back into the weather-beaten face.
The old soldier chuckled. "He's told you about that, has he?
'Old G. A. R.!' Great name, ain't it?"
"Why does he call you by it?"
"Grand Army of the Republic, ma'am. I'm a member, and I reckon I do
anecdote about it overmuch at times. The Reg'ment round there, they
dubbed me that."
"And the Major?"
"That's right, ma'am, for'ard march! I'm gettin' to it. He was in the
Arm'ry with me, the other day, a-pretendin' to help me clean up, and he
fell off one of the cannon he was monkeyin' round. He didn't seem so bad
hurt, at first, but somehow, after I come to think it over, he hasn't
seemed to want to move round since, so I lay it to that."
"Have you had a doctor to see him?" asked Miss Ruth, waving the groups
of arriving children on to 'Tildy's care.
"No, ma'am, I haven't. The officer that took the fancy to the little
chap and pays for his eatin' along with me at the restaurant, he's been
out of town for six weeks, and after leaving the baby here, I am on my
way to his office now, to see if he has got back," and he stepped toward
the door.
"I will take Angel home and stop by there and see Joey," said Miss Ruth.
"We'll be happy to have you, ma'am," and with a salute, the old soldier
marched out the door.
* * * * *
"Indade, Miss Ruthie, an' it's proud I am to go wid ye," said Mrs.
O'Malligan some hours later, in response to Miss Ruth's request to go
over to the Armory with her, "just ye wait till I starts the Angel
choild up the steps," and Mrs. O'Malligan accordingly, was soon
accompanying Miss Ruth through the big door of the Armory.
The old soldier met them and led the way into a neat box of a room, very
orderly, very spotless. Here, on a cot, lay the Major, his eyes turned
to meet them expectantly. It was quite pitiful to see how these few days
had changed him into the white little chap looking up from the pillow.
"Well, Major," began Miss Ruth, cheerily, and at sound of her bright,
animated voice, a figure in the shadow on the other side of the cot
looked up.
"Why, Mr. Dilke," cried Miss Ruth, at sight of the young and very
properly attired gentleman who stood up to greet her.
The young gentleman came round and shook hands with evident pleasure.
"So you are the wonderful '_Teacher_,' Miss Stannard?"
"And you are the '_Cap'n_'?" retorted Miss Ruth.
Here the Major, as he would have phrased it, "caught on." "She said yer
was a gentleman what wouldn't a-smoked before ladies, she did,"
volunteered Joey.
Miss Ruth blushed and laughed and blushed again. "Well, he wouldn't,
Joey," she reiterated stoutly.
Whereupon the boyishly smooth face of Mr. Dilke colored too, and being
very big and blonde and diffident, he blushed very red indeed, while
Joey, seeing something up, tried to wink his roguish eyes but failed for
very weakness and found them full of tears instead.
"Where does it hurt?" asked Miss Ruth gently, leaning over him.
The Major winked indignantly. "Sojers aint goin' to make no fuss if
does hurt, Old G. A. R. he says so!"
Old G. A. R. in the background gave vent to a sudden chuckle. "Obey your
superior officers, Major, afore anything," he corrected.
"Faith I'll jist take him in me lap an' say whir he's hurted for
meself," said Mrs. O'Malligan briskly and forthwith laid her energetic
hand upon the little fellow. At her well meant but rough handling, the
child cried out, turning white to the lips.
"Howly Mither, forgive me," cried Mrs. O'Malligan.
Miss Ruth turned away to hide her tears. "Have you had a doctor yet?"
she inquired.
"No, I had just gotten here a moment ahead of you," explained Mr. Dilke.
"Well," said Miss Ruth, decidedly, "whether it proves serious or not, he
ought to go to St. Luke's and be properly nursed, and if there happens
to be a free cot vacant, I will have no trouble getting him in."
Mr. Dilke turned quickly. "Don't stop for that," he said, "use me,--I
mean,--don't let the cost of it interfere,--I'll be very glad,--you
know----"
Miss Ruth beamed at the young man whom she knew to be very rich indeed.
"Just take charge of a Free Kindergarten, Mr. Dilke, if you ever really
want to properly appreciate your blessings and privileges," she said, "I
am never so sordid in my desire for wealth, as when I stand helpless,
with the knowledge of the suffering around me, that money can remedy or
at least, alleviate."
"Let me walk with you to St. Luke's," begged Mr. Dilke, "and you can
tell me something more about it all if you will." And leaving Joey to
Mrs. O'Malligan, until their return, the two started off.
"You've evidently been very good to Joey," Miss Stannard remarked
graciously, as they went along.
Mr. Dilke blushed furiously, "Who? I? No more than the other men in the
Regiment. Now a fellow could hardly help liking the little chap, could
he?" and he regarded his pretty companion as if seeking justification in
her answer.
"How did it ever begin?" inquired Miss Stannard.
"Through the old man--the janitor, you know. The boy's mother was a
daughter of a dead soldier, comrade to Old G. A. R. Good for nothing
husband, and that sort of thing, you know, and always runnin' to Old G.
A. R. for protection and help too, I suspect. When she died, the old
fellow didn't have the money, and appealed to some of us fellows to help
bury her. And then, it turned out, here was the boy. First we agreed to
his staying at the Armory a day or so, then a week, then longer, and by
that time the knowing little monkey had made his own cause good. Here we
are,--and we'll just arrange, while here, to take a doctor back with
us."
It was late that afternoon that Miss Ruth, having remained to see the
Major safely asleep after his removal to St. Luke's Hospital, came down
the steps of that institution with her pretty eyes all dim with crying,
the doctor's words ringing in her ears, "Poor little chap," he had said,
"it's merely a question of time."