Little Men: Life at Plumfield With Jo's Boys
“Oh, don't! stay with Mr. Page awhile and then come back here; do, Dan,”
pleaded Nat, much affected at the whole affair.
“I don't care where I go, or how long I stay, and I'll be hanged if I
ever come back here,” with which wrathful speech Dan went away to put up
his things, every one of which Mr. Bhaer had given him.
That was the only good-bye he gave the boys, for they were all talking
the matter over in the barn when he came down, and he told Nat not to
call them. The wagon stood at the door, and Mrs. Bhaer came out to speak
to Dan, looking so sad that his heart smote him, and he said in a low
tone,
“May I say good-bye to Teddy?”
“Yes, dear; go in and kiss him, he will miss his Danny very much.”
No one saw the look in Dan's eyes as he stooped over the crib, and saw
the little face light up at first sight of him, but he heard Mrs. Bhaer
say pleadingly,
“Can't we give the poor lad one more trial, Fritz?” and Mr. Bhaer answer
in his steady way,
“My dear, it is not best, so let him go where he can do no harm to
others, while they do good to him, and by and by he shall come back, I
promise you.”
“He's the only boy we ever failed with, and I am so grieved, for I
thought there was the making of a fine man in him, spite of his faults.”
Dan heard Mrs. Bhaer sigh, and he wanted to ask for one more trial
himself, but his pride would not let him, and he came out with the hard
look on his face, shook hands without a word, and drove away with Mr.
Bhaer, leaving Nat and Mrs. Jo to look after him with tears in their
eyes.
A few days afterwards they received a letter from Mr. Page, saying that
Dan was doing well, whereat they all rejoiced. But three weeks later
came another letter, saying that Dan had run away, and nothing had been
heard of him, whereat they all looked sober, and Mr. Bhaer said,
“Perhaps I ought to have given him another chance.”
Mrs. Bhaer, however, nodded wisely and answered, “Don't be troubled,
Fritz; the boy will come back to us, I'm sure of it.”
But time went on and no Dan came.
CHAPTER VII. NAUGHTY NAN
“Fritz, I've got a new idea,” cried Mrs. Bhaer, as she met her husband
one day after school.
“Well, my dear, what is it?” and he waited willingly to hear the new
plan, for some of Mrs. Jo's ideas were so droll, it was impossible to
help laughing at them, though usually they were quite sensible, and he
was glad to carry them out.
“Daisy needs a companion, and the boys would be all the better for
another girl among them; you know we believe in bringing up little men
and women together, and it is high time we acted up to our belief. They
pet and tyrannize over Daisy by turns, and she is getting spoilt. Then
they must learn gentle ways, and improve their manners, and having girls
about will do it better than any thing else.”
“You are right, as usual. Now, who shall we have?” asked Mr. Bhaer,
seeing by the look in her eye that Mrs. Jo had some one all ready to
propose.
“Little Annie Harding.”
“What! Naughty Nan, as the lads call her?” cried Mr. Bhaer, looking very
much amused.
“Yes, she is running wild at home since her mother died, and is too
bright a child to be spoilt by servants. I have had my eye on her for
some time, and when I met her father in town the other day I asked him
why he did not send her to school. He said he would gladly if he could
find as good a school for girls as ours was for boys. I know he would
rejoice to have her come; so suppose we drive over this afternoon and
see about it.”
“Have not you cares enough now, my Jo, without this little gypsy to
torment you?” asked Mr. Bhaer, patting the hand that lay on his arm.
“Oh dear, no,” said Mother Bhaer, briskly. “I like it, and never was
happier than since I had my wilderness of boys. You see, Fritz, I feel a
great sympathy for Nan, because I was such a naughty child myself that
I know all about it. She is full of spirits, and only needs to be taught
what to do with them to be as nice a little girl as Daisy. Those quick
wits of hers would enjoy lessons if they were rightly directed, and what
is now a tricksy midget would soon become a busy, happy child. I know
how to manage her, for I remember how my blessed mother managed me,
and—”
“And if you succeed half as well as she did, you will have done a
magnificent work,” interrupted Mr. Bhaer, who labored under the delusion
that Mrs. B. was the best and most charming woman alive.
“Now, if you make fun of my plan I'll give you bad coffee for a week,
and then where are you, sir?” cried Mrs. Jo, tweaking him by the ear
just as if he was one of the boys.
“Won't Daisy's hair stand erect with horror at Nan's wild ways?” asked
Mr. Bhaer, presently, when Teddy had swarmed up his waistcoat, and Rob
up his back, for they always flew at their father the minute school was
done.
“At first, perhaps, but it will do Posy good. She is getting prim and
Bettyish, and needs stirring up a bit. She always has a good time when
Nan comes over to play, and the two will help each other without knowing
it. Dear me, half the science of teaching is knowing how much children
do for one another, and when to mix them.”
“I only hope she won't turn out another firebrand.”
“My poor Dan! I never can quite forgive myself for letting him go,”
sighed Mrs. Bhaer.
At the sound of the name, little Teddy, who had never forgotten his
friend, struggled down from his father's arms, and trotted to the door,
looked out over the sunny lawn with a wistful face, and then trotted
back again, saying, as he always did when disappointed of the longed-for
sight,
“My Danny's tummin' soon.”
“I really think we ought to have kept him, if only for Teddy's sake, he
was so fond of him, and perhaps baby's love would have done for him what
we failed to do.”
“I've sometimes felt that myself; but after keeping the boys in a
ferment, and nearly burning up the whole family, I thought it safer to
remove the firebrand, for a time at least,” said Mr. Bhaer.
“Dinner's ready, let me ring the bell,” and Rob began a solo upon that
instrument which made it impossible to hear one's self speak.
“Then I may have Nan, may I?” asked Mrs. Jo.
“A dozen Nans if you want them, my dear,” answered Mr. Bhaer, who had
room in his fatherly heart for all the naughty neglected children in the
world.
When Mrs. Bhaer returned from her drive that afternoon, before she could
unpack the load of little boys, without whom she seldom moved, a small
girl of ten skipped out at the back of the carry-all and ran into the
house, shouting,
“Hi, Daisy! where are you?”
Daisy came, and looked pleased to see her guest, but also a trifle
alarmed, when Nan said, still prancing, as if it was impossible to keep
still,
“I'm going to stay here always, papa says I may, and my box is coming
tomorrow, all my things had to be washed and mended, and your aunt came
and carried me off. Isn't it great fun?”
“Why, yes. Did you bring your big doll?” asked Daisy, hoping she had,
for on the last visit Nan had ravaged the baby house, and insisted on
washing Blanche Matilda's plaster face, which spoilt the poor dear's
complexion for ever.
“Yes, she's somewhere round,” returned Nan, with most unmaternal
carelessness. “I made you a ring coming along, and pulled the hairs out
of Dobbin's tail. Don't you want it?” and Nan presented a horse-hair
ring in token of friendship, as they had both vowed they would never
speak to one another again when they last parted.
Won by the beauty of the offering, Daisy grew more cordial, and proposed
retiring to the nursery, but Nan said, “No, I want to see the boys, and
the barn,” and ran off, swinging her hat by one string till it broke,
when she left it to its fate on the grass.
“Hullo! Nan!” cried the boys as she bounced in among them with the
announcement,
“I'm going to stay.”
“Hooray!” bawled Tommy from the wall on which he was perched, for Nan
was a kindred spirit, and he foresaw “larks” in the future.
“I can bat; let me play,” said Nan, who could turn her hand to any
thing, and did not mind hard knocks.
“We ain't playing now, and our side beat without you.”
“I can beat you in running, any way,” returned Nan, falling back on her
strong point.
“Can she?” asked Nat of Jack.
“She runs very well for a girl,” answered Jack, who looked down upon Nan
with condescending approval.
“Will you try?” said Nan, longing to display her powers.
“It's too hot,” and Tommy languished against the wall as if quite
exhausted.
“What's the matter with Stuffy?” asked Nan, whose quick eyes were roving
from face to face.
“Ball hurt his hand; he howls at every thing,” answered Jack scornfully.
“I don't, I never cry, no matter how I'm hurt; it's babyish,” said Nan,
loftily.
“Pooh! I could make you cry in two minutes,” returned Stuffy, rousing
up.
“See if you can.”
“Go and pick that bunch of nettles, then,” and Stuffy pointed to a
sturdy specimen of that prickly plant growing by the wall.
Nan instantly “grasped the nettle,” pulled it up, and held it with a
defiant gesture, in spite of the almost unbearable sting.
“Good for you,” cried the boys, quick to acknowledge courage even in one
of the weaker sex.
More nettled than she was, Stuffy determined to get a cry out of her
somehow, and he said tauntingly, “You are used to poking your hands into
every thing, so that isn't fair. Now go and bump your head real hard
against the barn, and see if you don't howl then.”
“Don't do it,” said Nat, who hated cruelty.
But Nan was off, and running straight at the barn, she gave her head a
blow that knocked her flat, and sounded like a battering-ram. Dizzy, but
undaunted, she staggered up, saying stoutly, though her face was drawn
with pain,
“That hurt, but I don't cry.”
“Do it again,” said Stuffy angrily; and Nan would have done it, but Nat
held her; and Tommy, forgetting the heat, flew at Stuffy like a little
game-cock, roaring out,
“Stop it, or I'll throw you over the barn!” and so shook and hustled
poor Stuffy that for a minute he did not know whether he was on his head
or his heels.
“She told me to,” was all he could say, when Tommy let him alone.
“Never mind if she did; it is awfully mean to hurt a little girl,” said
Demi, reproachfully.
“Ho! I don't mind; I ain't a little girl, I'm older than you and Daisy;
so now,” cried Nan, ungratefully.
“Don't preach, Deacon, you bully Posy every day of your life,” called
out the Commodore, who just then hove in sight.
“I don't hurt her; do I, Daisy?” and Demi turned to his sister, who was
“pooring” Nan's tingling hands, and recommending water for the purple
lump rapidly developing itself on her forehead.
“You are the best boy in the world,” promptly answered Daisy; adding,
as truth compelled her to do, “You hurt me sometimes, but you don't mean
to.”
“Put away the bats and things, and mind what you are about, my hearties.
No fighting allowed aboard this ship,” said Emil, who rather lorded it
over the others.
“How do you do, Madge Wildfire?” said Mr. Bhaer, as Nan came in with
the rest to supper. “Give the right hand, little daughter, and mind thy
manners,” he added, as Nan offered him her left.
“The other hurts me.”
“The poor little hand! what has it been doing to get those blisters?” he
asked, drawing it from behind her back, where she had put it with a look
which made him think she had been in mischief.
Before Nan could think of any excuse, Daisy burst out with the whole
story, during which Stuffy tried to hide his face in a bowl of bread and
milk. When the tale was finished, Mr. Bhaer looked down the long table
towards his wife, and said with a laugh in his eyes,
“This rather belongs to your side of the house, so I won't meddle with
it, my dear.”