Little Men: Life at Plumfield With Jo's Boys
“I'll come down and you come up. I must go to Daisy now;” and Demi
departed to rehearse the tale of the nineteen cats, with the exciting
boot-and-barrel episodes.
Teddy was speedily whisked up; and then Dan said, laughing, “Come, too;
there's plenty of room. I'll lend you a hand.”
Mrs. Jo glanced over her shoulder, but no one was in sight; and rather
liking the joke of the thing, she laughed back, saying, “Well, if you
won't mention it, I think I will;” and with two nimble steps was in the
willow.
“I haven't climbed a tree since I was married. I used to be very fond
of it when I was a girl,” she said, looking well-pleased with her shady
perch.
“Now, you read if you want to, and I'll take care of Teddy,” proposed
Dan, beginning to make a fishing-rod for impatient Baby.
“I don't think I care about it now. What were you and Demi at up here?”
asked Mrs. Jo, thinking, from the sober look on Dan's face, that he had
something on his mind.
“Oh! we were talking. I'd been telling him about leaves and things, and
he was telling me some of his queer plays. Now, then, Major, fish away;”
and Dan finished off his work by putting a big blue fly on the bent pin
which hung at the end of the cord he had tied to the willow-rod.
Teddy leaned down from the tree, and was soon wrapt up in watching
for the fish which he felt sure would come. Dan held him by his little
petticoats, lest he should take a “header” into the brook, and Mrs. Jo
soon won him to talk by doing so herself.
“I am so glad you told Demi about 'leaves and things;' it is just what
he needs; and I wish you would teach him, and take him to walk with
you.”
“I'd like to, he is so bright; but—”
“But what?”
“I didn't think you'd trust me.”
“Why not?”
“Well, Demi is so kind of precious, and so good, and I'm such a bad lot,
I thought you'd keep him away from me.”
“But you are not a 'bad lot,' as you say; and I do trust you, Dan,
entirely, because you honestly try to improve, and do better and better
every week.”
“Really?” and Dan looked up at her with the cloud of despondency lifting
from his face.
“Yes; don't you feel it?”
“I hoped so, but I didn't know.”
“I have been waiting and watching quietly, for I thought I'd give you a
good trial first; and if you stood it, I would give you the best reward
I had. You have stood it well; and now I'm going to trust not only Demi,
but my own boy, to you, because you can teach them some things better
than any of us.”
“Can I?” and Dan looked amazed at the idea.
“Demi has lived among older people so much that he needs just what you
have knowledge of common things, strength, and courage. He thinks you
are the bravest boy he ever saw, and admires your strong way of doing
things. Then you know a great deal about natural objects, and can tell
him more wonderful tales of birds, and bees, and leaves, and animals,
than his story-books give him; and, being true, these stories will teach
and do him good. Don't you see now how much you can help him, and why I
like to have him with you?”
“But I swear sometimes, and might tell him something wrong. I wouldn't
mean to, but it might slip out, just as 'devil' did a few minutes ago,”
said Dan, anxious to do his duty, and let her know his shortcomings.
“I know you try not to say or do any thing to harm the little fellow,
and here is where I think Demi will help you, because he is so innocent
and wise in his small way, and has what I am trying to give you, dear,
good principles. It is never too early to try and plant them in a child,
and never too late to cultivate them in the most neglected person. You
are only boys yet; you can teach one another. Demi will unconsciously
strengthen your moral sense, you will strengthen his common sense, and I
shall feel as if I had helped you both.”
Words could not express how pleased and touched Dan was by this
confidence and praise. No one had ever trusted him before, no one had
cared to find out and foster the good in him, and no one had suspected
how much there was hidden away in the breast of the neglected boy, going
fast to ruin, yet quick to feel and value sympathy and help. No honor
that he might earn hereafter would ever be half so precious as the right
to teach his few virtues and small store of learning to the child
whom he most respected; and no more powerful restraint could have been
imposed upon him than the innocent companion confided to his care. He
found courage now to tell Mrs. Jo of the plan already made with Demi,
and she was glad that the first step had been so naturally taken. Every
thing seemed to be working well for Dan, and she rejoiced over him,
because it had seemed a hard task, yet, working on with a firm belief in
the possibility of reformation in far older and worse subjects than he,
there had come this quick and hopeful change to encourage her. He felt
that he had friends now and a place in the world, something to live and
work for, and, though he said little, all that was best and bravest in a
character made old by a hard experience responded to the love and faith
bestowed on him, and Dan's salvation was assured.
Their quiet talk was interrupted by a shout of delight from Teddy, who,
to the surprise of every one, did actually catch a trout where no trout
had been seen for years. He was so enchanted with his splendid success
that he insisted on showing his prize to the family before Asia cooked
it for supper; so the three descended and went happily away together,
all satisfied with the work of that half hour.
Ned was the next visitor to the tree, but he only made a short stay,
sitting there at his ease while Dick and Dolly caught a pailful of
grasshoppers and crickets for him. He wanted to play a joke on Tommy,
and intended to tuck up a few dozen of the lively creatures in his bed,
so that when Bangs got in he would speedily tumble out again, and pass
a portion of the night in chasing “hopper-grasses” round the room. The
hunt was soon over, and having paid the hunters with a few peppermints
apiece Ned retired to make Tommy's bed.
For an hour the old willow sighed and sung to itself, talked with the
brook, and watched the lengthening shadows as the sun went down. The
first rosy color was touching its graceful branches when a boy came
stealing up the avenue, across the lawn, and, spying Billy by the
brook-side, went to him, saying, in a mysterious tone,
“Go and tell Mr. Bhaer I want to see him down here, please. Don't let
any one hear.”
Billy nodded and ran off, while the boy swung himself up into the tree,
and sat there looking anxious, yet evidently feeling the charm of the
place and hour. In five minutes, Mr. Bhaer appeared, and, stepping up on
the fence, leaned into the nest, saying, kindly,
“I am glad to see you, Jack; but why not come in and meet us all at
once?”
“I wanted to see you first, please, sir. Uncle made me come back. I know
I don't deserve any thing, but I hope the fellows won't be hard upon
me.”
Poor Jack did not get on very well, but it was evident that he was sorry
and ashamed, and wanted to be received as easily as possible; for his
Uncle had thrashed him well and scolded him soundly for following the
example he himself set. Jack had begged not to be sent back, but the
school was cheap, and Mr. Ford insisted, so the boy returned as quietly
as possible, and took refuge behind Mr. Bhaer.
“I hope not, but I can't answer for them, though I will see that they
are not unjust. I think, as Dan and Nat have suffered so much, being
innocent, you should suffer something, being guilty. Don't you?” asked
Mr. Bhaer, pitying Jack, yet feeling he deserved punishment for a fault
which had so little excuse.
“I suppose so, but I sent Tommy's money back, and I said I was sorry,
isn't that enough?” said Jack, rather sullenly; for the boy who could do
so mean a thing was not brave enough to bear the consequences well.
“No; I think you should ask pardon of all three boys, openly and
honestly. You cannot expect them to respect and trust you for a time,
but you can live down this disgrace if you try, and I will help you.
Stealing and lying are detestable sins, and I hope this will be a lesson
to you. I am glad you are ashamed, it is a good sign; bear it patiently,
and do your best to earn a better reputation.”
“I'll have an auction, and sell off all my goods dirt cheap,” said Jack,
showing his repentance in the most characteristic way.
“I think it would be better to give them away, and begin on a new
foundation. Take 'Honesty is the best policy' for your motto, and live
up to it in act, and word, and thought, and though you don't make a cent
of money this summer, you will be a rich boy in the autumn,” said Mr.
Bhaer, earnestly.
It was hard, but Jack consented, for he really felt that cheating didn't
pay, and wanted to win back the friendship of the boys. His heart clung
to his possessions, and he groaned inwardly at the thought of actually
giving away certain precious things. Asking pardon publicly was easy
compared to this; but then he began to discover that certain other
things, invisible, but most valuable, were better property than knives,
fish-hooks, or even money itself. So he decided to buy up a little
integrity, even at a high price, and secure the respect of his
playmates, though it was not a salable article.
“Well, I'll do it,” he said, with a sudden air of resolution, which
pleased Mr. Bhaer.
“Good! and I'll stand by you. Now come and begin at once.”
And Father Bhaer led the bankrupt boy back into the little world, which
received him coldly at first, but slowly warmed to him, when he showed
that he had profited by the lesson, and was sincerely anxious to go into
a better business with a new stock-in-trade.
CHAPTER XVI. TAMING THE COLT
“What in the world is that boy doing?” said Mrs. Jo to herself, as she
watched Dan running round the half-mile triangle as if for a wager.
He was all alone, and seemed possessed by some strange desire to run
himself into a fever, or break his neck; for, after several rounds, he
tried leaping walls, and turning somersaults up the avenue, and finally
dropped down on the grass before the door as if exhausted.
“Are you training for a race, Dan?” asked Mrs. Jo, from the window where
she sat.
He looked up quickly, and stopped panting to answer, with a laugh,
“No; I'm only working off my steam.”
“Can't you find a cooler way of doing it? You will be ill if you tear
about so in such warm weather,” said Mrs. Jo, laughing also, as she
threw him out a great palm-leaf fan.
“Can't help it. I must run somewhere,” answered Dan, with such an odd
expression in his restless eyes, that Mrs. Jo was troubled, and asked,
quickly,
“Is Plumfield getting too narrow for you?”
“I wouldn't mind if it was a little bigger. I like it though; only the
fact is the devil gets into me sometimes, and then I do want to bolt.”
The words seemed to come against his will, for he looked sorry the
minute they were spoken, and seemed to think he deserved a reproof for
his ingratitude. But Mrs. Jo understood the feeling, and though sorry to
see it, she could not blame the boy for confessing it. She looked at him
anxiously, seeing how tall and strong he had grown, how full of energy
his face was, with its eager eyes and resolute mouth; and remembering
the utter freedom he had known for years before, she felt how even the
gentle restraint of this home would weigh upon him at times when the old
lawless spirit stirred in him. “Yes,” she said to herself, “my wild hawk
needs a larger cage; and yet, if I let him go, I am afraid he will be
lost. I must try and find some lure strong enough to keep him safe.”
“I know all about it,” she added, aloud. “It is not 'the devil,' as you