LEARNING TO WORK.
WHEN the first load of chips was nicely stored in the cellar, Mr.
Irvington sent a second, still larger. And at this Arthur worked until
the Sabbath. It had now become his habit to eat his breakfast, dinner
and supper in the neat kitchen, and after he had done his work, he
received a shilling and a basket of food sufficient to last his mother
and Matilda till the next evening.
On Sunday morning, Mrs. Irvington bid him come to her house and
accompany her to the Sunday school. She was glad to see that his face
and hands were as clean as soap and water could make them; and that the
clothes she had sent to Matilda to make over for the boy, fitted him
neatly.
On their way to the school the following conversation took place.
"Can you read, Arthur?"
"Oh, yes, mum!"
"Can you say the ten commandments?"
"I don't think I can say quite all the long ones. Mother taught me the
others when I was a little boy; but I only said: 'Remember the Sabbath
day to keep it holy.' I can't remember all the rest of it."
"I think I will take you into my class."
"Thank you, mum. I should like to go there, I'd try not to trouble you."
From this time, Arthur Thompson became a regular attendant at the
Sabbath school. He was always respectful and attentive, and well
prepared in his lesson. Perhaps no scholar in the room appreciated the
privilege more than he did. In after life, and when himself a teacher,
he often alluded to the hours passed in Mrs. Irvington's class as among
the happiest and most profitable of his early years.
In less than a month from the time when Joseph Hickie first called him
through the knot-hole, he was an orphan, his mother having been called
to her heavenly home.
During Mrs. Irvington's frequent visits to the sick woman, she found
Matilda so devoted and tender as a nurse, that after the death of
Mrs. Thompson, the lady gave her the offer of becoming nurse in the
children's asylum, with a salary sufficient to support her in comfort.
The offer was accepted with tears of gratitude.
"I am so fond of children," she said, "I can think of nothing that
would please me more."
For Arthur's sake, however, the kind lady did not wish to break up his
home too suddenly. She had, by this time, become greatly interested in
the boy, and therefore, at her own expense hired the room for another
month, and engaged Matilda to make the orphan a suit of stout winter
clothes.
During the day, Arthur was regularly employed in the ship-yard,
sometimes sweeping the office, again running errands, or raking chips
into piles ready to be carted away. With nourishing food and healthy
employment, Arthur had gained both in flesh and strength. He was,
indeed, often weary with work, and his arms ached with lifting the
heavy rake, but he was contented and happy. In his nightly prayer, he
often thanked God that he had had a pious mother, so that he was early
taught that it was right to work and not to idle away his time like
Joseph Hickie.
Mrs. Irvington's interest in Arthur led her to keep a constant watch
over him. She had promised the dying mother that she would be a friend
to the motherless boy; and she was not a woman to break her word. She
cautioned him to keep clear of Joseph, and then, knowing that a child
must have companions, she allowed him to come to the house on Wednesday
and Saturday afternoons to play with her son, Willie.
At first, she was careful to be present when the children were
together. But perceiving that Arthur was not only amiable in
disposition, but that even in his plays, he exhibited a firmness of
principle remarkable in one so young, she allowed the poor orphan to
become the intimate friend of her more impulsive Willie.
One afternoon when the two boys were playing post-office in the
library, Mrs. Irvington sat writing at the desk in her husband's
office. When she had sealed her letter, her attention was arrested
by the stillness in the adjoining room, for Willie's merry laugh and
rather boisterous voice generally announced his presence in the house.
Presently, she heard Arthur's gentle tones say:
"Do you like to hear stories?"
"Yes, I think they are first-rate."
"Well, I will tell you one I read in a book Matilda lent me."