"How d'ye do, Nannie?" said young Flin, as he met the girl walking with
Dora. Sammy was on his way to school with his satchel on his arm, and
could only stop a minute; but he always did like Nannie Bates, and he
was glad to get an opportunity to tell her that he would see her
sometimes if his mother would let him go down to the old house. "You see
I have to study very hard, now," said he, with a disdainful toss of his
books to the walk; "and I don't love it, Nannie, but mother says she
wants me to be a great man one of these days, and that's the way to
bring it about. I don't see though how it will do it, if I study all my
life and don't learn any thing!"
"But," said Nannie, "you ought to try to improve since you have the
means to get a good education; I wish mother was rich enough to send me
to school all the time!" and she took the satchel and looked over the
books with a wistful air, while Sammy amused himself with the child.
"There's the old bell," said he, as the first faint tones came gratingly
to his ear, "and I suppose I must go; I'm sure I'd rather play than sit
bending over my desk all day, but good-by, Nannie, when I'm bigger I'll
come to see you as often as I've a mind;" and away he ran, while Nannie
stood looking after him and wishing for the very privilege that he
spurned.
It would have done her some good, but Mr. Bond thought "she knew enough
already. She could read, write, and cipher, and didn't she know
Pilgrim's Progress from beginning to end; that was all he had ever
learned, and hadn't he gone through life well enough so far!"
You are a nice good-hearted jolly old man, Peter Bond, and your merry
happy face and amiable temper will compensate for any deficiency in
intellectual attainment; but Nannie Bates has a craving mind, and it
must have nourishment. You don't know how early she is out of her bed,
stowed away in Mrs. Minturn's attic with a book in her hand, nor how
many pages she devours while nursing Dora. She does not neglect her
little charge, but invents a thousand ways to keep her pleased and
contented, while she gleans a little more knowledge every day. It's
astonishing how much the girl has gained already, and she has a double
motive in it, too; there's another mind waiting to have it imparted, and
the two expand, night after night, as they give their gathered ideas to
each other in the one short hour. It's not much time, but it
accumulates, in one year, thirty days! think of it! Supposing it were
spent in foolish talking and jesting, or in parading the walks with the
other boys and girl! there would be thirty days wasted, and two minds
robbed, and two intelligent faces despoiled of their chief attractions.
Pat has grown quite fine-looking since the obtuse look has given place
to such a sensible inquiring expression, and a soul speaks out from
Nannie's eyes now that she bestows more culture upon the mental part.
You're right, Mr. Bond. It is not necessary for Nannie Bates to go to
school! she will come out quite as bright as thousands who are kept at
their books by a rod over their backs. She can not help acquiring,
wherever she is! She appears very modest and very attentive to the child
as she stands in the drawing-room of her mistress while Dora is
exhibiting to the many guests; but her ear is becoming accustomed to a
pure language, and her imitative powers soon adopt it. She will make a
very lady-like little wife for somebody! Pat sees it, and does what he
can to keep up with her. There'll be a struggle for her, though. Mike
Dugan goes to Mrs. Minturn's very often, and whenever Nannie is sent to
the kitchen on any mission there's a paper of candy for her, or a kind
pleasant word, or a fond look, and she begins to think Mike a very nice
sort of lad; when Pat finds how things are going, "he doesn't think he
would put himself in Mike Dugan's way if he were Nannie! He's a great
rough, red-headed, ugly fellow, and wouldn't make much of a husband for
any girl!"
Nannie isn't thinking of husbands, and only wonders why Pat dislikes
Mike so much when he is as kind to her as a brother would be. She
doesn't think him ugly at all. She remembers that he has red hair. It
doesn't strike her that Pat's is, if possible, a shade more fiery. She
has never thought of comparing them, Mike is a clever fellow, and all
the girls like him; but Pat, is Pat, and she would not have him like
anybody else for all the world!