Daisy
though a waft of the sunny air through the open window brought a violent
rush of such images. I tried to shut them out of my head and gave myself
wistfully to "three times one is three; three times two is six." Miss
Pinshon helped me by closing the window. I thought she might have let so
much sweetness as that come into the multiplication table. However I
studied its threes and fours steadily for some time; then my attention
flagged. It was very uninteresting. I had never in all my life till then
been obliged to study what gave me no pleasure. My mind wandered, and
then my eyes wandered, to where the sunlight lay so golden under the live
oaks. The wreaths of grey moss stirred gently with the wind. I longed to
be out there. Miss Pinshon's voice startled me.
"Daisy, where are your thoughts?"
I hastily brought my eyes and wits home and answered, "Out upon the
lawn, ma'am."
"Do you find the multiplication table there?"
It was so needless to answer! I was mute. I would have come to the
rash conclusion that nature and mathematics had nothing to do with
each other.
"You must learn to command your attention," my governess went on. "You
must not let it wander. That is the first lesson you have to learn. I
shall give you mathematics till you have learnt it. You can do nothing
without attention."
I bent myself to the threes and fours again. But I was soon weary; my
mind escaped; and without turning my eyes off my book, it swept over
the distance between Magnolia and Melbourne, and sat down by Molly
Skelton to help her in getting her letters. It was done and I was
there. I could hear the hesitating utterances; I could see the dull
finger tracing its way along the lines. And then would come the
reading _to_ Molly, and the interested look of waiting attention, and
once in a while the strange softening of the poor hard face. From
there my mind went off to the people around me at Magnolia; were there
some to be taught here perhaps? and could I get at them? and was there
no other way--could it be there was no other way but by my weak little
voice--through which some of them were ever to learn about my dear
Saviour? I had got very far from mathematics, and my book fell. I
heard Miss Pinshon's voice.
"Daisy, come here."
I obeyed and came to the table, where my governess was installed in
the leather chair of my grandfather. She always used it.
"I should like to know what you are doing."
"I was thinking," I said.
"Did I give you thinking to do?"
"No, ma'am; not of that kind."
"What kind was it?"
"I was thinking, and remembering----"
"Pray what were you remembering?"
"Things at home--and other things."
"Things and things," said Miss Pinshon. "That is not a very elegant
way of speaking. Let me hear how much you have learned."
I began. About all of the "threes" was on my tongue; the rest had got
mixed up hopelessly with Molly Skelton and teaching Bible reading.
Miss Pinshon was not pleased.
"You must learn attention," she said. "I can do nothing with you until
you have succeeded in that. You _must_ attend. Now I shall give you a
motive for minding what you are about. Go and sit down again and study
this table till you know the threes and the fours and the fives and
the sixes, perfectly. Go and sit down."
I sat down, and the life was all out of me. Tears in the first place had
a great mind to come, and would put themselves between me and the figures
in the multiplication table. I governed them back after a while. But I
could not study to purpose. I was tired and down-spirited; I had not
energy left to spring to my task and accomplish it. Over and over again I
tried to put the changes of the numbers in my head; it seemed like
writing them in sand. My memory would not take hold of them; could not
keep them; with all my trying I grew only more and more stupefied and
fagged, and less capable of doing what I had to do. So dinner came, and
Miss Pinshon said I might get myself ready for dinner and after dinner
come back again to my lesson. The lesson must be finished before anything
else was done.
I had no appetite. Preston was in a fume of vexation, partly aroused
by my looks, partly by hearing that I was not yet free. He was enraged
beyond prudent speaking, but Miss Pinshon never troubled herself about
his words; and when the first and second courses were removed, told me
I might go to my work. Preston called me to stay and have some fruit;
but I went on to the study, not caring for fruit or for anything else.
I felt very dull and miserable. Then I remembered that my governess
probably did care for some fruit and would be delayed a little while;
and then I tried what is the best preparation for study or anything
else. I got down on my knees, to ask that help which is as willingly
given to a child in her troubles as to the general of an army. I
prayed that I might be patient and obedient and take disagreeable
things pleasantly and do my duty in the multiplication table. And a
breath of rest came over my heart, and a sort of perfume of remembered
things which I had forgotten; and it quite changed the multiplication
table to think that God had given it to me to learn, and so that some
good would certainly come of learning it; at least the good of
pleasing Him. As long as I dared I stayed on my knees; then I was
strong for the fives and sixes.
But it was not quick work; and though my patience did not flag again
nor my attention fail, the afternoon was well on the way before I was
dismissed. I had then permission to do what I liked. Miss Pinshon said
she would not go to walk that day; I might follow my own pleasure.
I must have been very tired; for it seemed to me there was hardly any
pleasure left to follow. I got my flat and went out. The sun was
westing; the shadows stretched among the evergreen oaks; the outer air
was sweet. I had tried to find Preston first, in the house; but he was
not to be found; and all alone I went out into the sunshine. It wooed
me on. Sunshine and I were always at home together. Without knowing
that I wanted to go anywhere, some secret attraction drew my steps
towards the dell where I had seen Darry. I followed one of several
well-beaten paths that led towards the quarters through the trees, and
presently came out upon the stables again. All along the dell the
sunshine poured. The ground was kept like a pleasure ground, it was so
neat; the grass was as clean as the grass of a park; the little stone
houses scattered away down towards the river, with shade trees among
them, and oaks lining the sides of the dell. I thought surely Magnolia
was a lovely place! if only my father and mother had been there. But
then, seeing the many cottages, my trouble of the morning pressed upon
me afresh. So many people, so many homes, and the light of the Bible
not on them, nor in them? And, child as I was, and little as I knew, I
knew the name of Christ too unspeakably precious, for me to think
without a sore heart, and all these people were without what was the
jewel of my life. And they my mother's servants! my father's
dependants! What could I do?
The dell was alone in the yellow sunlight which poured over the slope
from the west: and I went musing on till getting to the corner of the
stables I saw Darry just round the corner grooming a black horse. He
was working energetically, and humming to himself as he worked a
refrain which I learned afterwards to know well. All I could make out
was, "I'm going home"--several times repeated. I came near before he
saw me, and he started; then bid me good evening and "hoped I found
Magnolia a pleasant place."
Since I have grown older I have read that wonderful story of Mrs. Stowe's
Uncle Tom; he reminded me of Darry then, and now I never think of the one
without thinking of the other. But Darry, having served a different class
of people from Uncle Tom's first owners, had a more polished style of
manners, which I should almost call courtly; and he was besides a man of
higher natural parts, and somewhat more education. But much commerce in
the Court which is above all earthly dignities, no doubt had more to do
with his peculiarities than any other cause.
I asked him what he was singing about home? and where his home was? He
turned his face full upon me, letting me see how grave and gentle his
eye was, and at the same time there was a wistful expression in it
that I felt.
"Home ain't nowheres here, missie," he said. "I'm 'spectin' to go by
and by."
"Do you mean home up _there_?" said I, lifting my finger towards the
sky. Darry fairly laughed.
"'Spect don't want no other home, missie. Heaven good enough."
I stood watching him as he rubbed down the black horse, feeling surely
that he and I would be friends.
"Where is your home here, Darry?"
"I got a place down there, little missie--not fur."
"When you have done that horse, will you show me your place? I want to
see where you live."
"Missie want to see Darry's house?" said he, showing his white teeth.
"Missie shall see what she mind to. I allus keeps Sadler till the
last, 'cause he's ontractable."
The black horse was put in the stable, and I followed my black groom down
among the lines of stone huts to which the working parties had not yet
returned. Darry's house was one of the lowest in the dell, out of the
quadrangle, and had a glimpse of the river. It stood alone in a pretty
place, but something about it did not satisfy me. It looked square and
bare. The stone walls within were rough as the stone-layer had left them;
one little four-paned window, or rather casement, stood open; and the air
was sweet; for Darry kept his place scrupulously neat and clean. But
there was not much to be kept. A low bedstead; a wooden chest; an odd
table made of a piece of board on three legs; a shelf with some kitchen
ware; that was all the furniture. On the odd table there lay a Bible,
that had, I saw, been turned over many a time.
"Then you can read, Uncle Darry?" I said, pitching on the only thing
that pleased me.
"De good Lord, He give me dat happiness," the man answered gravely.
"And you love Jesus, Darry," I said, feeling that we had better come
to an understanding as soon as possible. His answer was an energetic--
"Bress de Lord! Do Miss Daisy love Him, den?"
I would have said yes; I did say yes, I believe; but I did not know
how or why, at this question there seemed a coming together of
gladness and pain which took away my breath. My head dropped on
Darry's little window-sill, and my tears rushed forth, like the head
of water behind a broken mill-dam. Darry was startled and greatly
concerned. He wanted to know if I was not well--if I would send him
for "su'thing"--I could only shake my head and weep. I think Darry was
the only creature at Magnolia before whom I would have so broken down.
But somehow I felt safe with Darry. The tears cleared away from my
voice after a little; and I went on with my inquiries again. It was a
good chance.
"Uncle Darry, does no one else but you read the Bible?"
He looked dark and troubled. "Missie sees--de folks for most part got
no learning. Dey no read, sure."
"Do you read the Bible to them, Darry?"
"Miss Daisy knows, dere ain't no great time. Dey's in the field all
day, most days, and dey hab no time for to hear."
"But Sundays?" I said.
"Do try," he said, looking graver yet. "Me do 'tempt su'thing. But
missie knows, de Sabbat' be de only day de people hab, and dey tink
mostly of oder tings."
"And there is no church for you all to go to?"
"No, missis; no church."
There was a sad tone in his answer. I did not know how to go on. I
turned to something else.
"Uncle Darry, I don't think your home looks very comfortable."
Darry almost laughed at that. He said it was good enough; would last