Mr. Brush glanced nervously around,
to learn whether any of his friends were within hearing,
shuddering to think what the consequences might be.
He believed that he could explain the matter to some
of the folks, but the majority were so radical in
their views that they would refuse to admit the distinction,
and would take him to task for teaching improper language
to his young pupil. It caused him another shudder
at the thought that the same penalty that Wade Ruggles
had undergone might be visited upon him, though it
is doubtful if the issue would have been similar.
“Ahem, Miss Nellie, when we
go back home, will you promise me to say nothing about
this part of your lesson?”
“You mean ’bout that bad word?”
“Yes, let’s forget all about
it.”
“I’ll try, but mebbe I’ll forget
to forget it.”
“Likely enough,” gloomily
reflected the parson; “suppose we try some other
words. Ah, we have a visitor.”
At that moment Budge Isham climbed
into view and sauntered smilingly toward them.
Brush added a whispered warning to the little one not
to forget her promise, though, since Isham was an
educated man, there ought not to have been anything
to fear in his case, but the teacher knew his waggish
nature, and had good reason to fear the mischief he
would delight in creating.
“Good day,” was his cheery
greeting, as he came up; “I hope I am not intruding,
but I thought I should like to see how you are getting
on, Nellie.”
“Oh, Mr. Brush says I am learning
real fast; I can spell ‘cat,’ and ‘dog,’
and ‘dam.’”
Budge raised his hands in horror.
“What in the name of heaven, parson, does she
mean?”
“Mr. Isham,” said the
gentleman, severely, “are you aware that you
are using improper language in the presence of this
young lady?”
“Explain yourself.”
“It is wrong for you to appeal
to heaven on so trifling a question; it is such a
near approach to profanity that the dividing line is
imperceptible. I am sorry you forgot yourself,
but I will overlook it this time.”
Budge was really frightened, for though
the distinction was quite fine, he felt there was
some justice in the position of the parson, but he
bluffed it out.
“I doubt whether a jury would
find me guilty, and in the meantime explain the remark
just made by Nellie, if you please.”
Thus cornered, the parson made a clean
breast of it. Isham assumed a grave expression.
“The only criticism I can make
is upon your taste in selecting a word, susceptible
of a questionable meaning. You know as well as
I that if this should be submitted to a jury at the
Heavenly Bower this evening, the majority would sit
down on you, and it would be hard work for you to
escape the penalty.”
“I’m afraid it would,”
responded the parson; “it was a piece of forgetfulness
on my part ”
“Which is the plea that Bidwell
and Ruggles made, but it didn’t answer.
However, I’ll say nothing about it, knowing you
will be more careful in the future, while I shall
not forget to put a bridle on my own tongue.
The trouble, however,” he added with a smile,
“is to make her overlook it.”
“She has promised she will do so.”
“Since that promise was made
just before I got here, she has shown how readily
she can forget it.”
“I will give her a longer lesson
than usual and thus drive all remembrance out of her
mind,” said the parson resolutely.
Budge Isham folded his arms, prepared
to look on and listen, but the queen of the proceedings
checked it all by an unexpected veto.
“Mr. Brush, I feel so tired.”
Her face wore a bored expression and
she looked wistfully away from the blackboard toward
the cabins below them.
“Does your head hurt you?”
inquired the teacher with much solicitude, while the
single auditor was ready to join in the protest.
“No, but mebbe it will hurt me one of these
days.”
“It isn’t wise, parson,
to force the child; a great deal of injury is done
to children by cramming their heads with useless knowledge.”
The teacher could not feel sure that
this counsel was disinterested, for there could be
no danger of his taxing the mental powers of the little
one too severely, but her protest could not pass unheeded.
“You have done very well, my
child; you are learning fast, so we’ll leave
the spelling for to-morrow. Suppose we now try
the commandments: can you repeat the first one?”
Nellie gave it correctly, as she did
with slight assistance, the remaining ones. She
was certainly gifted with a remarkable memory and
possessed an unusually bright mind. Budge Isham
was impressed by her repetition of the decalogue,
whose meaning she was unable fully to grasp.
His frivolous disposition vanished, as he looked upon
the innocent child and watched the lips from which
the sacred words flowed. He quietly decided that
it would be inexcusably mean to seek any amusement
at the expense of the parson, and it may as well be
added that he never afterward referred to the incident,
while it seemed to have passed wholly from the mind
of Nellie herself. At the conclusion of the lesson,
Budge complimented teacher and pupil and said he would
be glad to certify that Mr. Brush was the best teacher
in New Constantinople, and that it was impossible for
any one to take his place. Then he bade them
good day and walked thoughtfully away, leaving them
once more to themselves.
These were the most precious moments
of all to the teacher, when the formal lesson was
completed, and he sat down for a little talk with
his pupil. He occupied the stone which served
her for a seat, while one arm loosely clasped the
figure which stood between his knees. She patted
his cheek, played with his rough collar and shaggy
whiskers, while as he listened and replied to her
prattle, felt as never before the truth of the declaration
that of such is the kingdom of heaven.
“Mr. Brush,” she finally
said, “do you know why I love you?”
“I suppose it must be because
I am so handsome,” he replied with a smile.
“No; it isn’t that, for you ain’t
handsome.”
“Whew! but you are not afraid
to speak the truth, little one, and I hope you will
always do that. No; I don’t know why you
love me, unless you are so good yourself that you
can’t help it.”
This was not exactly clear to the
little one, and she stood silent for a minute, gently
fingering his long beard. Then she thought it
best to clear up the mystery without further parley.
“I love you ’cause you’re good.”
Even though the avowal was delightful,
it caused a pang, like a knife-thrust from his accusing
conscience.
“I am thankful to hear you say
that, but, Nellie, I am not good.”
“Yes, you is, but if you ain’t
good, why ain’t you good?”
The logic of the reply of the adult
was of the same grade as that of the child.
“I suppose the true reason is
because I am bad. I am sorry to say it, but I
have drifted far away from where I ought to be.”
The dimpled hand continued to fondle
the whiskers, and the little brain was busy, but a
wisdom that was more than human guided it. Turning
those lustrous blue eyes upon him she softly asked:
“Will you do what I ask you?”
He almost gasped, for he instinctively
suspected what was coming, but he answered without
hesitation:
“If it is my power I will do it, though it kills
me.”
“Oh, I don’t want it to
kill you; this won’t hurt you; will you do it,
Mr. Brush?”
“Yes, God helping me.”
“Do like Mr. Ruggles.”
“How’s that?” asked the parson with
a sinking heart.
“Don’t drink any more
of that red water, which makes men talk loud and sometimes
say bad words.”
“Heavens!” thought the
parson; “she little dreams what she is asking
me, but it is not she but some One who is thus calling
me back to duty. Yes, my child, I will do what
you ask.”
“You is as good and nice as
you can be now, but then you will be a good deal gooder
and nicer,” said she, warmly kissing him.
“I hope so,” he added,
rising to his feet, with the feeling that he was not
himself but some one else, and that that some one else
was the young man away among the distant hills of
Missouri, before he wandered to the West, and in doing
so, wandered from the path along which he had attempted
to guide and lead others.
“I call myself her teacher,”
he mused, as he reached down and took the tiny hand
in his own, “but she is the teacher and I am
the pupil.”
They had started in the direction
of the cabins, when they heard curious shouts and
outcries in that direction. “There’s
something strange going on down there,” he said,
peering toward the point; “I wonder what it
can be; let us hurry and find out.”
Firmly clasping her hand, the two
hastened down the incline, wondering what it was that
caused all the noise and confusion.