THE WANT OF A DENTIST.
I was glad to see Oddity's kind ugly face again in our native shed. How
much I had to tell him! how much older I now felt than one who had never
wandered a hundred yards from his home! Who knows not the pleasure of
returning even after a brief absence, full of information, eager to
impart it, and sure of a ready and attentive listener? I talked over my
adventures to my brother, till any patience but his would have been
exhausted; but he was the most patient of rats, quite willing to have
all his adventures second-hand, without the slightest wish to become a
hero, but ready, without a particle of envy, to admire the exploits of
others.
"And how is old Furry?" I asked, when at length I came to the end of my
narration. Furry had now taken up his quarters in the warehouse, but
sometimes visited our shed.
Oddity looked very grave. "You know," replied he, "that poor Furry had
the misfortune some time ago to lose one of his upper front teeth."
"I know it; he struck it out when gnawing at the hoop of a barrel. But I
do not see that the misfortune is great; old Furry has other teeth
left."
"_That_ is his misfortune," added Oddity.
"How?-- what do you mean?-- what does he complain of,-- losing his teeth
or keeping them?"
"Both," said Oddity. I should have thought him joking, but Oddity was
never guilty of a joke in his life. "You see," he continued, observing
my look of surprise, "that gnawing is necessary to us rats, to keep down
the quick growth of our teeth. If they are not constantly rubbing one
against another, they soon get a great deal too long for our mouths. As
poor old Furry's upper tooth is gone, of course the one just under it is
now out of work, and having nothing else to do, is growing at such a
pace, that it is actually forming a circle in his mouth!"
"You don't say so!" I exclaimed "I have often noticed the strange length
of that tooth, but I had no notion of the extent of the evil."
"It has much increased since you left us," sighed Oddity, "and where it
will end I really don't know. The poor fellow is blind, he had no
pleasure but in nibbling and chatting, and now his dreadful long tooth
is actually locking his jaw."
"Shall I go to see him?" said I.
"Do as you please," replied Oddity. "There is little pleasure in seeing
him now, poor fellow."
And so I found when I went. Poor old Furry's misfortune had by no means
sweetened his temper. He was ready to bite any one who approached him,
only biting was now out of the question. He could hardly manage to
swallow a little meal which Oddity had procured, and certainly took it
without a sign of gratitude. One would have thought, by his manner
towards the piebald rat, that it was he who had knocked out the unlucky
front tooth, instead of having kindly attended to Furry's wants for so
long, and borne with his temper, which was harder. But Oddity was,
without a doubt, the most patient and steady of rats. While Bright-eyes,
full of fun, made many a joke at the expense of the blind, crabbed old
rat, who had been so fond of talking, and now could scarcely utter a
squeak-- of eating, and now could not nibble a nut,-- Oddity never
thought the sufferings of another the subject for a smile, or the
peevishness and infirmities of age any theme for the ridicule of the
young. He had been often laughed at himself; that was perhaps the reason
why he never gave the same pain to others.
I was really glad to escape back to my shed from the atmosphere of a
peevish temper. I was accompanied to it by Oddity.
"And now, dear old rat," said I, when we were alone, "how go on our
little ragged friends? What has become of Bob and Billy?"
"They still live, or rather starve, in the old shed," said he; "but now
they go out each day together. I expect them here every minute."
"So then they are as poor as ever?" inquired I.
"I have heard something of occasional treats of warm soup at the school,
but I don't think that they get anything certain. I suppose that now and
then, when some good folk sit down to a comfortable meal, beside a
roaring fire, they just happen to remember that seventy or eighty
half-famished children are gathered together in a street near, and send
them a welcome supply. But both Bob and Billy have hope now, if they
have nothing else; they expect soon to be able to do something for
themselves, and to be helped on by the kind friends whom they have found
at the school."
"Has Bob brought home any more red handkerchiefs with white spots?"
inquired I.
"Not a rag of one," answered my companion; "but he brings back something
which puzzles my brain-- something white, with black marks upon it. He
and little Billy sit poring over it by the hour. They don't eat it, they
don't smell it, they don't wear it: I can't make out that it is of any
use to them at all; and yet they seem as much pleased, as they study it
together, as if it were a piece of Dutch cheese!"
"What are these odd things scattered about the shed?" said I; "I don't
remember seeing them before."
"Ah! I forgot to say the little one is beginning to make baskets, and
neat fingers he has about it: it seems quite a pleasure to the child.
The very talk of the boys is growing different now; the elder--"
He stopped at the sound of a distant cough, which became more
distressing every minute, till our two poor boys entered the shed,
and Bob sank wearily down on the floor.
"Oh! that cough, how it shakes you!" cried Billy.
"Never mind, 'twill be over soon," gasped his brother.
I was so much surprised at the change in the boys' appearance, that at
first I could hardly believe my eyes. They both looked much whiter than
I had seen them before; their hair was cut closer, and brushed to one
side, instead of hanging right over their eyes. Neither of the brothers
was in rags; the old worn clothes indeed were still there, but neatly
patched and mended; some one had given Bob a pair of old shoes, but it
was Billy who wore the warm cloak.
"His brother always makes him wear it," whispered Oddity, "except at
night, and then it covers them both."
"Now you must have it, Bob; isn't it comfy?" said the lame child,
pressing the cloak round his brother, whose violent cough for the moment
prevented his reply, and brought a bright colour to his cheek, which I
never had seen there before. "I'll creep very close to you, Bobby, and
then we'll both have it, you know. There! are you better now?" he said,
softly, laying his thin cheek against that of his brother.
"I don't think I'll ever get better here." The boy shivered and closed
his eyes as he spoke.
"Oh, Bob! Bob!" cried the child, in accents of fear, "you're not a-going
to be ill like mother; you're not a-going to-- die, and leave me!"
There was something very gentle in the tone, and sweet in the uplift
eye, of the poor destitute boy, as he replied, "I can't say if I'm
a-going to die, Billy; but don't you mind what Miss Mary told us about
dying? I used to be afeared when I thought on it, but now-- I think I
could die and be happy!"
"But you must not-- you shall not go and leave me! Oh! what should I do
without you?" cried Billy, bursting into tears.