Sarah, walking along past City Park on a raw, cold night, found a
tiny,--oh so tiny,--puppy, whining, shaking and crying with cold.
Picking up that small bunch of babyhood, Sarah was in quandary as just
what to do; but Priscilla Standish, coming along, said:--
"Oh! Poor baby!! Who owns him, Sarah?"
"I don't know; but say! Wouldn't your Ma----"
"My Ma _would!!_ Bring him along, and wrap your cloak around him. It's
awfully cold for so young a puppy."
So Lady Standish, with that "back-yard zoo" soon had his quaking
babyship lapping good warm milk, and a stumpy tail wagging as only
a tiny puppy's stumpy tail _can_ wag. Along towards six o'clock a
vigorous pounding on Lady Standish's front door brought Priscilla, to
find Old Bill Simpkins with a tiny, wildly sobbing girl of about four.
Walking into Lady Standish's parlor, Simpkins said:--
"This kid has lost a-a-a-crittur; I think it was a pup, wasn't it,
kid?"
A vigorous up and down bobbing of a small shock of auburn hair.
"So," said Simpkins, "I thought it might show up in your back-yard
gang."
"It has, Bill, you _old grouch!!_" for Lady Standish, as about all of
Branton Hills' grown-ups, was in school with Bill. "It's all right,
now, and warm and cuddly. Don't cry, Mary darling. Priscilla will bring
in your puppy."
As that happy baby sat crooning to that puppy, also a baby, Old Bill
had to snort out:--
"Huh! A lot of fuss about a pup, I'll say!"
"Oh, _pooh-pooh_, Bill Simpkins!" said Lady S. "Why _shouldn't_ a child
croon to a puppy? Folks bring all kinds of animals to my back yard, if
sick or hurt. Want to walk around my zoo?"
"_No!!_ No zoos for Councilman Simpkins! Animals ain't worth so much
fuss!"
"Pshaw, Bill! You talk ridiculously! I wish you could know of about
half of my works. I want to show you a big Angora cat. A dog bit its
foot so I put a balm on it and wound it with cotton----"
"You put _balm_ on a _cat's_ foot!! _Bah!_"
But Lady Standish didn't mind Old Bill's ravings having known him so
long; so said:--
"Oh, how's that old corn of yours? Can't I put a balm----"
"_No!_ You cannot! Mary, bring your pup; I'm going along."
As a happy tot was passing out that big, kindly front door, Sarah
said:--
"Was Councilman Simpkins always so grouchy, Lady Standish?"
"No. Not until John Gadsby 'cut him out' and won Lady Gadsby."
"Aha!! And a Ho, Ho!!" said Sarah, laughing gayly. "So folks had
what you call 'affairs' way back, just as today!" and also laughing
inwardly, at what Lucy had said about this kindly Lady Standish and His
Honor.
Ah! That good old schoolday, now so long past! How it bobs up,
now-a-days, if you watch a young lad and a happy, giggling lass
holding hands or laughing uproariously at youthful witticisms. And how
diaphanous and almost imaginary that far-back day looks, if that girl
with whom you stood up and said "I do," laughs, if you try a bit of
romantic kissing, and says:--
"Why, John! How silly! You act actually childish!!"
* * * * *
And now it won't do any harm to hark back a bit on this history, to
find how our big Night School is doing. Following that first graduation
day, many and many a child, and adult, too, had put in hours on
various nights; and if you visit it you will find almost as many forms
of instruction going on as you will find pupils; for thousands of
folks today know of topics which, with a bit of study, could turn out
profitably. Now Branton Hills had, as you know, built this school for
public instruction; and, as with all such institutions, visiting days
occur. And _what_ a display of goods and workmanship! And what bright,
happy pupils, standing proudly back of it! For mankind knows hardly a
joy which will surpass that of approval of his work.
Gadsby's party first took in a wood-working shop; finding small stands
which fit so happily into many a living room nook; book racks for walls
or floor; moth-proof bins, smoking stands, many with fancy uprights
or inlaid tops; high chairs for tiny tots; arm chairs for old folks;
cribs, tobacco humidors, stools, porch and lawn swings, ballbats,
rolling pins, mixing boards; in fact about anything that a man can
fashion from wood.
As an indication of practical utility coming from such public
instruction, a man told Gadsby:--
"I didn't know much about wood-working tools until I got into this
class. This thing I am making would cost about thirty dollars to
buy, but all it cost, so far, is two dollars and a half, for wood and
glass," which Gadsby thought was worth knowing about; as so many of his
Council had put forth so many complaints against starting such a school
without charging for instruction. In an adjoining room His Honor's
party found boys banging and pounding happily; and, if you should
ask,--noisily,--on brasswork: making bowls, trays, lamp standards,
photograph stands, book supports and similar artistic things. Across
from that was a blacksmith shop, with its customary flying sparks and
sizzling cooling-vats.
But, by going upstairs, away from all this din, Gadsby, humming
happily, found Sarah and Lucy, Nancy and Kathlyn amidst a roomful of
girls doing dainty fancy-work. And what astonishing ability most of
that group _did_ show! Nancy bought a baby-cap which was on a par with
anything in Branton Hills' shops; and though Kathlyn said it was "just
too cunning for anything", John Smith's bungalow didn't contain anybody
(just now!) whom it would fit.
But Lady Gadsby, with a party of Branton Hills matrons, was calling
for Gadsby to hurry down a long corridor to a loom-room, saying that
such dainty rugs, mats and scarfs of cotton and silk hung all around
on walls or racks, it was truly astonishing that girls could do such
first-class work, having had long hours of labor in Broadway's shops
all day.
Although most of our standard occupations found room for activity, an
occasional oddity was run across. So His Honor's party found two boys
and two girls working at that always fascinating art of glass-blowing.
And what a dainty trick it is! And what an opportunity to burn a thumb
or two, if you don't wait for things to cool! Things of charming form
_and_ fragility, grow as by a magician's wand, from small glass tubings
of various colors. Birds with glorious wings, ships of crystal sailing
on dark billows, tiny buildings in a thick glass ball which upon
agitation, stirs up a snowstorm which softly lands on pink roof-tops;
many a fancy drinking glass and bowl, oil lamps, ash trays, and gaudy
strings of tiny crystal balls for adorning party gowns. And did Nancy
want to buy out this shop? And did Frank doubt his ability to do so?
And did Kathlyn ask: "How about it, Johnny?" and did John Smith say:
"Nothing doing"? It was just that. But it only shows that good old
Branton Hills' inclination for aiding anything which looks worthy; and
such a school I know you will admit, looks that way.
Tramping upstairs, still again, Gadsby and party found a class so
varying from all downstairs as to bring forth murmurs of joy, for this
was known as "Music Floor"; upon which was taught all forms of that
most charming of all arts--from solo work to community singing, from
solitary violin pupil to a full brass band. On our party's arrival,
Lucy, Doris and Virginia, hurrying from classrooms, sang, in trio, that
soft, slow Italian song, "O Solo Mio;" and, as Gadsby proudly said,
"Not for many a day had such _music_ rung out in Branton Hills;" for
most girls, if in training with a practical vocalist, _can_ sing; and
most charmingly, too.
In a far room was a big string outfit of banjos, mandolins and guitars,
happily strumming out a smart, throbbing Spanish fandango, until His
Honor could not avoid a swinging of body and tapping of foot; causing
Lady Gadsby to laugh, saying:--
"Rhythm has a mighty grip on Zulus, I am told."