THE VANQUISHED BULLY.
Notwithstanding Tom’s mistake, she was still intrusted with the duty of
answering the bell. At length, to her satisfaction, she opened the door
to her friend of the morning.
He looked at her in surprise.
“What, is this Tom?” he asked.
“Yes,” she said, enjoying his surprise. “Didn’t you know me?”
“Hardly. Why, you look like a young lady!”
“Do I?” said Tom, hardly knowing whether or not to feel pleased at the
compliment, for she fancied she should prefer to be a boy.
“Yes, you are much improved. And how have you been getting on this
morning?”
“I’ve been cutting up,” said Tom, shaking her head.
“Not badly, I hope.”
“I’ll tell you what I did;” and Tom in her own way gave an account of
the events related in the previous chapter.
The captain laughed heartily.
“You aint mad?” questioned Tom.
“Did you think I would be?”
“She said so,” said Tom.
“Who is she?”
“Your sister.”
The captain recovered his gravity. He saw that his merriment might
encourage Tom in her pranks, and so increase the difficulties his sister
was likely to find with her.
“No, I am not angry,” he said, “but I want you very much to improve. You
will have a good home here, and I want you to do as well as you can, so
that when I get home from my voyage I may find you very much improved.
Do you think I shall?”
Tom listened attentively.
“What do you want me to do?” she asked.
“To learn, as fast as you can, both about work and study. I shall leave
directions to have you sent to school. Will you like that?”
“I don’t know,” said Tom. “I’m afraid I’ll be bad, and get licked.”
“Then try not to be bad. But you want to know something when you grow
up,—don’t you?”
“Yes.”
“Then you will have to go to school and study. Can you read?”
“Not enough to hurt me,” said Tom.
“Then, if you find yourself behind the rest, you must work all the
harder. Will you promise me to do it?”
Tom nodded.
“And will you try to behave well?”
“Yes,” said Tom. “I’ll do it for you. I wouldn’t do it for granny.”
“Then do it for me.”
Here Mrs. Merton appeared on the scene, and Tom was directed to go
downstairs to assist the cook.
“Well, what do you think of her, Martha?”
“She’s a regular trial. I’ll tell you what she did this morning.”
“I know all.”
“Did she tell you?” asked his sister, in surprise.
“Yes, she voluntarily told me that she had been ‘cutting up;’ and, on my
questioning her, confessed how. However, it was partly the result of
ignorance.”
“I wish I hadn’t undertaken the charge of her.”
“Don’t be discouraged, Martha. There’s some good in her, and she’s as
smart as a steel trap. She’s promised me to turn over a new leaf, and do
as well as she can.”
“Do you rely upon that?”
“I do. She’s got will and resolution, and I believe she means what she
says.”
“I hope it’ll prove so,” said Mrs. Merton, doubtfully.
“I find she knows very little. I should like to have her sent to school
as soon as possible. She can assist you when at home, and I will take
care that you lose nothing by it.”
To this Mrs. Merton was brought to agree, but could not help expressing
her surprise at the interest which her brother took in that child. She
was a good woman, but it was not strange if the thought should come to
her that she had two daughters of her own, having a better claim upon
their uncle’s money than this wild girl whom he had picked up in the
streets. But Captain Barnes showed that he had not forgotten his nieces,
as two handsome dress-patterns, sent in from Stewart’s during the
afternoon, sufficiently evinced.
Tom had not yet met Mrs. Merton’s daughters, both being absent at
school. They returned home about three o’clock. Mary, a girl of about
Tom’s age, had rather pretty, but insipid, features, and was vain of
what she regarded as her beauty. Fanny, who was eight, was more
attractive.
“Children, can’t you speak to your uncle?” said Mrs. Merton; for the
captain declared himself tired, and did not go out after lunch.
“How do you do, uncle?” said Mary, advancing and offering her hand.
“Why, Mary, you have become quite a young lady,” said her uncle.
Mary simpered and looked pleased.
“And Fanny too. Martha, where is that doll I brought for her?”
The doll was handed to the delighted child.
“I suppose you are too old for dolls, Mary,” said the captain to his
eldest niece.
“I should think so, Uncle Albert,” answered Mary, bridling.
“Then it’s lucky I didn’t bring you one. But I’ve brought you a
playmate.”
Mary looked surprised.
Tom was passing through the hall at the moment, and her guardian called
her.
“Come in, Tom.”
Mary Merton stared at the new-comer, and her quick eyes detected that
the dress in which she appeared was one of her own.
“Why, she’s got on my dress,” she said.
“She is about your size, Mary, so I gave her your dress.”
“Didn’t she have any clothes of her own?”
“Were you unwilling to let her have that dress?” asked her uncle.
Mary pouted, and Captain Barnes said, “Martha, I will put money in your
hands to supply Jenny with a suitable wardrobe. I had intended to give
Mary new articles for all which been appropriated to Tom’s use; but I
have changed my mind.”
“She can have them,” said Mary, regretting her selfishness, from an
equally selfish motive.
“I won’t trouble you,” said her uncle, rather coldly.
Tom had listened attentively to this conversation, turning her bright
eyes from one to the other.
“Come here, Tom, and shake hands with these two little girls.”
“I’ll shake hands with her,” said Tom, indicating Fanny.
“And won’t you shake hands with Mary?”
“I don’t want to.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t like her.”
“Shake hands with her, for my sake.”
Tom instantly extended her hand, but now it was Mary who held back. Her
mother would have forced her to give her hand, but Captain Barnes said,
“It don’t matter. Leave them to become friends in their own time.”
Two days afterwards the captain sailed. Tom renewed her promise to be a
good girl, and he went away hopeful that she would keep it.
“I shall have somebody to come home to, Jenny,” he said. “Will you be
glad to see me back?”
“Yes, I will,” she said; and there was a heartiness in her tone which
showed that she meant what she said.
The next day Tom went to school. She was provided with two or three
books such as she would need, and accompanied Fanny; for, though several
years older, she was not as proficient as the latter.
In the next street there was a boy, whose pleasure it was to bully
children smaller than himself. He had more than once annoyed Fanny, and
when the latter saw him a little in advance, she said, nervously, “Let
us cross the street, Jenny.”
“Why?” asked Tom.
“There’s George Griffiths just ahead.”
“What if he is?”
“He’s an awful bad boy. Sometimes he pulls away my books, and runs away
with them. He likes to plague us.”
“He’d better not try it,” said Tom.
“What would you do?” asked Fanny, in surprise.
“You’ll see. I won’t cross the street. I’m goin’ right ahead.”
Fanny caught her companion’s arm, and advanced, trembling, hoping that
George Griffiths might not see them. But he had already espied them,
and, feeling in a bullying mood, winked to a companion and said, “You’ll
see how I’ll frighten these girls.”
He advanced to meet them, and took off his hat with mock politeness.
“How do you do this morning, young ladies?” he said.
“Go away, you bad boy!” said little Fanny, in a flutter.
“I’ll pay you for that,” he said, and tried to snatch one of her books,
but was considerably startled at receiving a blow on the side of the
head from her companion.
“Just let her alone,” said Tom.
“What have you got to say about it?” he demanded insolently.
“You’ll see.”
Hereupon he turned his attention to Tom, and tried to snatch her books,
but was rather astounded when his intended victim struck him a sounding
blow in the face with her fist.
“Take my books, Fanny,” she said, and, dropping them on the sidewalk,
squared off scientifically.
“Come on, if you want to!” said Tom, her eyes sparkling with excitement
at the prospect of a fight.
“I don’t want to fight with a girl,” he said, considerably astonished at
vigorous resistance where he had expected timid submission.
“You’re afraid!” said Tom, triumphantly.
“No, I’m not,” said George, backing out all the while; “I don’t want to
hurt you.”
“You can’t do it,” said Tom; “I can lick you any day.”
“How could you do it?” asked Fanny, as the dreaded bully slunk away.
“How brave you are, Jenny! I’m awful afraid of him.”
“You needn’t be,” said Tom, taking her books. “I’ve licked boys bigger’n
him. I can lick him, and he knows it.”
She was right. The story got about, and George Griffiths was so laughed
at, for being vanquished by a girl, that he was very careful in future
whom he attempted to bully.