Луиза Мэй Олкотт
Маленькие мужчины / Little men. Уровень 4

© С. А. Матвеев, адаптация текста, коммент. и словарь

© ООО «Издательство АСТ», 2022

Louisa May Alcott
Little Men

Nat

“Please, sir, is this Plumfield?” asked a ragged boy of the man who opened the gate.

“Yes. Who sent you?”

“Mr. Laurence. I have got a letter for the lady.”

“All right; go up to the house, and give it to her, little chap.”

The man spoke pleasantly, and the boy went on, feeling much cheered by the words. Nat saw a large square house before him, with an old-fashioned porch, wide steps, and lights shining in many windows. Then he heard young voices.

A rosy-faced servant-maid opened the door, and smiled as she took the letter which he silently offered. She pointed to a seat in the hall, and said, with a nod:

“Sit there.”

The house was full of boys. There were boys everywhere, upstairs and downstairs; big boys, little boys, and middle-sized boys. Two large rooms on the right were evidently schoolrooms. An open fire burned on the hearth, and several indolent lads lay on their backs before it. A tall boy was practising on the flute in one corner. Two or three others were jumping over the desks.

In the room on the left a long supper-table was seen, with great pitchers of new milk, piles of brown and white bread. A flavor of toast was in the air, also suggestions of baked apples.

The hall, however, was the most inviting prospect of all. One landing was devoted to marbles, the other to checkers, while the stairs were occupied by a boy reading, a girl singing a lullaby to her doll, two puppies, and a kitten.

One very lively boy came down so swiftly that he could not stop himself and fell off the banisters, with a crash. Nat ran up to the fallen rider. The boy, however, only winked rapidly and said, “Hello!”

“Hello!” returned Nat.

“What’s your name?”

“Nat Blake.”

“Mine’s Tommy Bangs. Demi, here’s a new one. Come here.”

At his call, the boy reading on the stairs looked up with a pair of big brown eyes, and after an instant’s pause, he put the book under his arm, and came soberly down to greet the newcomer.

“Have you seen Aunt Jo?” he asked.

“I haven’t seen anybody yet but you boys; I’m waiting,” answered Nat.

“Did Uncle Laurie send you?” proceeded Demi, politely, but gravely.

“Mr. Laurence did.”

“He is Uncle Laurie; and he always sends nice boys.”

Nat smiled. He did not know what to say next. A little girl came up with her doll in her arms. “This is my sister, Daisy,” announced Demi.

The children nodded to one another; and the little girl’s face dimpled with pleasure, as she said affably:

“I hope you’ll stay. We have such good times here; don’t we, Demi?”

“Of course, we do.”

“It seems a very nice place indeed,” observed Nat.

“It’s the nicest place in the world, isn’t it, Demi?” said Daisy.

“No, I think Greenland, where the icebergs and seals are, is more interesting. But I’m fond of Plumfield, and it is a very nice place as well,” said Demi.

The servant returned and said,

“All right; you will stay here.”

“I’m glad; now come to Aunt Jo,” Daisy took him by the hand.

Demi returned to his beloved book, while his sister led the newcomer into a back room, where a stout gentleman was frolicking with two little boys on the sofa, and a thin lady was just finishing the letter.

“Here he is, aunty!” cried Daisy.

“So this is my new boy? I am glad to see you, my dear, and hope you’ll be happy here,” said the lady.

She was not at all handsome, but she was merry. She saw the little tremble of Nat’s lips as she smoothed his hair, and her keen eyes grew softer.

“I am Mother Bhaer, that gentleman is Father Bhaer, and these are the two little Bhaers. Come here, boys, and see Nat.”

The stout man, with a chubby child on each shoulder, came up to welcome the new boy. Rob and Teddy merely grinned at him, but Mr. Bhaer said, in a cordial voice:

“There is a place for you, my son; sit down and dry thy wet feet.”

Mrs. Bhaer gave him warm slippers. He said “Thank you, ma’am”; and said it so gratefully that Mrs. Bhaer’s eyes grew soft, and she said something merry.

“There are Tommy Bangs’ slippers; but he never will remember to put them on in the house; so he won’t have them. They are too big; but that’s better; you can’t run away from us fast.”

“I don’t want to run away, ma’am.”

“That’s good! Now I am going to warm you, and try to get rid of that ugly cough. How long have you had it, dear?” asked Mrs. Bhaer.

“All winter. I got cold.”

“No wonder. He were living in that damp cellar on a rag!” said Mrs. Bhaer, in a low tone[1] to her husband, who was looking at the boy.

“Robin, go to Nursey, and tell her to give you the medicine and the liniment,” said Mr. Bhaer.

Nat looked a little anxious at the preparations, but forgot his fears in a hearty laugh, when Mrs. Bhaer whispered to him, with a droll look:

“The syrup I’m going to give you has honey in it; and Ted wants some.”

A bell rang, and a loud tramping through the hall announced supper. Bashful Nat quaked at the thought of meeting many boys, but Mrs. Bhaer held out her hand to him, and Rob said, patronizingly,

“Don’t be afraid; I’ll take care of you.”

Twelve boys, six on a side[2], stood behind their chairs, while the tall flute-playing boy was trying to curb their ardor. But no one sat down till Mrs. Bhaer was in her place behind the teapot, with Teddy on her left, and Nat on her right.

“This is our new boy, Nat Blake.”

As she spoke everyone stared at Nat. The boys did their best to obey. But there are times when hungry boys cannot be repressed without real cruelty, and Saturday evening, after a half-holiday, was one of those times.

“Let them have one day in which they can howl and racket and frolic. A holiday isn’t a holiday without plenty of freedom and fun,” Mrs. Bhaer used to say.

Nat sat with Tommy Bangs and Mrs. Bhaer.

“Who is that boy next the girl down at the other end?” whispered Nat to his young neighbor.

“That’s Demi Brooke. Mr. Bhaer is his uncle. He knows much and reads a lot.”

“Who is the fat one next him?”

“Oh, that’s Stuffy Cole. His name is George, but we call him Stuffy because he eats so much. The little fellow next Father Bhaer is his boy Rob, and then there’s big Franz his nephew; he teaches something.”

“He plays the flute, doesn’t he?” asked Nat.

Tommy nodded, and said,

“Yes. And we dance sometimes, and do gymnastics to music[3]. I like a drum myself, and want to learn as soon as I can.”

“I like a fiddle best; I can play one too,” said Nat.

“Can you?” and Tommy. “Mr. Bhaer’s got an old fiddle, and he’ll let you play on it if you want to.”

“Oh, I would like it ever so much. You see, I used to go round fiddling with my father, and another man, till he died.”

“Wasn’t that fun?” cried Tommy, much impressed.

“No, it was horrid; so cold in winter, and hot in summer. And I got tired; and they were cross sometimes; and I didn’t get enough to eat. But I loved my little fiddle, and I miss it. Nicolo took it away when father died.”

“You’ll belong to the band[4] if you play good.”

“Do you have a band here?” Nat’s eyes sparkled.

“Yes we do; a jolly band, all boys; and they have concerts. You just see what happens tomorrow night.”

After this pleasantly exciting remark, Tommy returned to his supper.

Mrs. Bhaer heard all they said. She put roly-poly[5] Nat next to Tommy, because she wanted to get the key to the new boy’s character. In the letter which Mr. Laurence had sent with Nat, he had said:

“Dear Jo, this poor lad is an orphan now, sick and friendless. He has been a street-musician; and

I found him in a cellar, mourning for his dead father, and his lost violin. I think there is something in him. You will cure his body, Fritz will help his mind, and when he is ready I’ll see if he is a genius or only a boy with a talent which may earn his bread for him,

Teddy.”

“Of course we will!” cried Mrs. Bhaer, as she read the letter.

When she saw Nat she felt at once that here was a lonely, sick boy who needed just what she loved to give, a home and motherly care. Both she and Mr. Bhaer observed him quietly; and in spite of ragged clothes, awkward manners, and a dirty face, they saw much about Nat that pleased them. He was a thin, pale boy, of twelve, with blue eyes, and a good forehead under the rough, neglected hair; an anxious, scared face and a sensitive mouth that trembled when a kind glance fell on him.

“He will fiddle all day long if he likes,” said Mrs. Bhaer to herself, as she saw the eager, happy expression on his face when Tommy talked of the band.

So, after supper, Mrs. Jo appeared with a violin in her hand, and went to Nat, who sat in a corner.

“Now, my lad, we want a violin in our band, and I think you will do it nicely.”

He seized the old fiddle at once, and handled it with care. Music was his passion.

“I’ll do the best I can, ma’am,” was all he said; and then drew the bow across the strings.

There was a great clatter in the room. Nat played softly to himself, forgetting everything in his delight. It was only a simple melody, such as street-musicians play, but it caught the ears of the boys at once, and silenced them. They stood listening with surprise and pleasure. Gradually they got nearer and nearer, and Mr. Bhaer came up to watch the boy. Nat’s eyes shone, his cheeks reddened, and his thin fingers flew.

A hearty round of applause rewarded him, when he stopped.

“You do that very well,” cried Tommy, who considered Nat his protege.

“You will be the first fiddle in my band,” added Franz, with an approving smile.

Mrs. Bhaer whispered to her husband:

“Teddy is right: there’s something in the child.”

Mr. Bhaer nodded his head emphatically, as he clapped Nat on the shoulder, saying, heartily:

“You play well, my son. Come now and play something which we can sing.”

It was the proudest, happiest minute of the poor boy’s life when he was led to the place by the piano, and the lads gathered round. They chose a song he knew; and soon violin, flute, and piano led a chorus of boyish voices. It was too much for Nat. As the final shout died away, he dropped the fiddle, and turning to the wall sobbed like a little child.

“My dear, what is it?” asked Mrs. Bhaer, who was singing.

“You are all so kind and it’s so beautiful,” sobbed Nat, coughing till he was breathless.

“Come with me, dear; you must go to bed and rest. This is too noisy a place for you,” whispered Mrs. Bhaer; and took him away to her own parlor.

Then she asked him to tell her all his troubles, and listened to the little story with tears in her eyes.

“My child, you have got a father and a mother now, and this is home. Don’t think of those sad times any more, but get well and happy. This place is made for all sorts of boys to have a good time in, and to learn how to be useful men, I hope. You will have as much music as you want. Now have a bath, and then go to bed.”

Mrs. Bhaer led him up to a big room, where they found a stout German woman with a round and cheery face.

“This is Nursey Hummel, and she will give you a nice bath, and cut your hair. That’s the bathroom in there.”

By the time Nat was washed and done up in a blanket by the fire, while Nursey cut his hair, a new detachment of boys arrived.

Nursey gave Nat a flannel night-gown, and then tucked him into one of the three little beds standing in the room. Cleanliness in itself was a new and delightful sensation; flannel gowns were unknown comforts in his world; and the feeling that somebody cared for him made that room a sort of heaven to the homeless child.

A momentary lull was followed by the sudden appearance of pillows flying in all directions. The battle raged in several rooms, all down the upper hall, and even in the nursery. No one forbade it, or even looked surprised.

“Won’t they hurt them?” asked Nat.

“Oh dear, no! We always allow one pillow-fight Saturday night. I like it myself,” said Mrs. Bhaer.

“What a nice school this is!” observed Nat, in a burst of admiration.

“It’s an odd one,” laughed Mrs. Bhaer, “but you see we don’t want to make children miserable by too many rules, and too much study. I forbade night-gown parties at first; but it was of no use. So I made an agreement with them. I allow a fifteen-minute pillow-fight every Saturday night; and they promise to go properly to bed every other night. I tried it, and it worked well. If they don’t keep their word, no frolic. I let them rampage as much as they like.”

“It’s a beautiful plan,” said Nat.

Mrs. Bhaer looked at her watch, and called out:

“Time is up, boys. Into bed, or pay the forfeit!”

“What is the forfeit?” asked Nat.

“Lose their fun next time,” answered Mrs. Bhaer. “I give them five minutes to settle down, then put out the lights, and expect order. They are honorable lads, and they keep their word.”

Sunday

Nat flew out of bed, and dressed himself with great satisfaction in the suit of clothes he found on the chair. Suddenly Tommy appeared and escorted Nat down to breakfast.

The sun was shining into the dining-room on the well-spread table, and the flock of hungry, hearty lads who gathered round it. Everyone stood silently behind his chair while little Rob, standing beside his father at the head of the table, folded his hands, reverently bent his curly head, and softly repeated a prayer. Then they all sat down to enjoy the Sunday-morning breakfast. There was much pleasant talk while the knives and forks rattled briskly.

“Now, my lads, be ready for church when the bus comes round,” said Father Bhaer.

Everyone had some little daily duty, and was expected to perform it faithfully. Some brought wood and water, brushed the steps, or ran errands for Mrs. Bhaer. Others fed the pet animals, and did chores about the barn with Franz. Daisy washed the cups, and Demi wiped them, for the twins liked to work together. Even Baby Teddy trotted to and fro, putting napkins away, and pushing chairs into their places. For half and hour the lads buzzed about like a hive of bees. Then the bus drove round, Father Bhaer and Franz with the eight older boys piled in, and away they went for a three-mile drive to church in town.

Because of the troublesome cough Nat preferred to stay at home with the four small boys, and spent a happy morning in Mrs. Bhaer’s room, listening to the stories she read them, and learning the hymns she taught them.

“This is my Sunday study,” she said, showing him shelves filled with picture-books, paint-boxes, little diaries, and materials for letter-writing. “I want my boys to love Sunday, to find it a peaceful, pleasant day, when they can rest from common study and play, yet enjoy quiet pleasures, and learn lessons more important than any taught in school. Do you understand me?” she asked, watching Nat’s attentive face.

“You mean to be good?” he said, after hesitating a minute.

“Yes; to be good, and to love to be good. It is hard work sometimes, I know very well; but we all help one another.”

She took down a thick book and opened at a page on which there was one word at the top.

“Why, that’s my name!” cried Nat, looking both surprised and interested.

“Yes; I have a page for each boy. I keep a little account of how he gets on through the week, and Sunday night I show him the record. If it is bad I am sorry and disappointed, if it is good I am glad and proud; but, whichever it is, the boys know I want to help them, and they try to do their best for love of me and Father Bhaer. I don’t show my records to any but the one to whom each belongs. I call this my conscience book[6]; and only you and I will ever know what is written on the page below your name. Whether you will be pleased or ashamed to read it next Sunday depends on yourself. I think it will be a good report. I hope you will be quite contented if you keep our few rules, live happily with the boys, and learn something.”

“I’ll try ma’am,” said Nat.

“I really don’t know which I like best, writing or boys,” she said, laughing. “Yes, I know many people think boys are a nuisance, but that is because they don’t understand them.”

Nat, who had never heard anything like this before, really did not know whether Mother Bhaer was a trifle crazy, or the most delightful woman he had ever met.

“Now, I think you will go into the school-room and practise some of the hymns we will sing tonight,” she said.

When the church-goers came back and dinner was over, every one read, wrote letters home, or talked quietly to one another, sitting here and there about the house. At three o’clock the entire family went to walk. Nat was not strong enough for the long walk, and asked to stay at home with Tommy, who kindly offered to show him Plumfield.

“You’ve seen the house, so come out and have a look at the garden, and the barn, and the menagerie,” said Tommy.

“What is your menagerie?” asked Nat, as they trotted along the road that encircled the house.

“We all have pets, you see, and we keep them in the corn-barn, and call it the menagerie. Here you are. Isn’t my guinea-pig[7] a beauty?” and Tommy proudly presented one of the ugliest animal that Nat ever saw.

“Those white mice are Rob’s, Franz gave them to him. The rabbits are Ned’s, and the bantams outside are Stuffy’s. That box is Demi’s turtle-tank.”

“What is in this box?” asked Nat, stopping before a large deep one, half-full of earth.

“Oh, that’s Jack Ford’s worm-shop[8]. He digs heaps of them and keeps them here, and when we want to go fishing with, we buy some of him. It saves lots of trouble, only he charged too much for them. Now, I own two hens, those gray ones with top knots, and I sell Mrs. Bhaer the eggs, but I never ask her more than twenty-five cents a dozen, never!” cried Tommy.

“Who owns the dogs?” asked Nat.

“The big dog is Emil’s. His name is Christopher Columbus,” answered Tommy. “The white pup is Rob’s, and the yellow one is Teddy’s. A man was going to drown them in our pond, and Papa Bhaer didn’t let him. Their names are Castor and Pollux.”

Nat climbed up a ladder, put his head through a trap door and looked at the pretty doves.

“How do you get these animals?” he asked, when he joined Tommy in the barn.

“We find them or buy them, or folks give them to us. My father sends me mine,” said Tommy, with the air of a millionaire.

Nat sighed, for he had neither father nor money, nothing in the wide world but an old empty pocketbook. Tommy understood the sigh which followed his answer,

“Look here, I’ll tell you what I’ll do. If you hunt eggs for me – I hate it – I’ll give you one egg out of every dozen. When you have twelve, Mother Bhaer will give you twenty-five cents for them, and then you can buy what you like.”

“I’ll do it! What a kind fellow you are, Tommy!” cried Nat, quite dazzled by this brilliant offer.

“Pooh! You begin now and rummage the barn, and I’ll wait here for you. Granny is cackling, so you’re find one somewhere,” and Tommy threw himself down on the hay.

Nat joyfully began his search, and he found two fine eggs.

“You may have one and I’ll have the other, and tomorrow we’ll start again. Here, you chalk your accounts up near mine,” said Tommy.

Then Tommy took Nat to an old willow-tree. From the fence it was an easy scramble into a wide niche between the three big branches. Here little seats had been fixed,

“This is Demi’s and my private place; we made it, and nobody can come up unless we let them, except Daisy,” said Tommy.

“Oh, it’s just beautiful!” cried Nat. “I hope you’ll let me up sometimes. I never saw such a nice place in all my life. I’d like to be a bird, and live here always.”

“It is pretty nice. You can come if Demi doesn’t mind, and I guess he won’t, because he said last night that he liked you.”

“Did he?” and Nat smiled with pleasure.

“Yes; Demi likes quiet boys. And you can read books together.”

“I can’t read very well; I never had any time, you know.”

Punishment

Nat was very fond of Mrs. Bhaer, but found something even more attractive in the good professor, who took fatherly care of the shy feeble boy. Father Bhaer took pleasure in fostering poor Nat’s virtues, and in curing his faults, finding his new pupil as docile and affectionate as a girl. He often called Nat his “daughter” when speaking of him to Mrs. Jo.

One fault of Nat’s gave the Bhaers much anxiety. Nat sometimes told lies[9]. A lie is a lie, it is not right, and everybody knows it.

“Watch your tongue, and eyes, and hands, for it is easy to tell, and look, and act untruth,” said Mr. Bhaer to Nat one day.

“I know it. I used to tell lies because I was afraid of father and Nicolo, and now I do sometimes because the boys laugh at me. I know it’s bad, but I forget,” Nat looked much depressed by his sins.

“When I was a little lad I used to tell lies! Ach! But my old grandmother cured me of it. How? My parents cried, and punished, but still did I forget as you. Then said the dear old grandmother, ‘I shall help you to remember’. With that she drew out my tongue and snipped the end with her scissors till the blood ran. That was terrible, you may believe, but it did me much good, because it was sore for days, and every word I said came so slowly that I had time to think. After that I was more careful, for I feared the big scissors.”

“I never had any grandmothers, but if you think it will cure me, I’ll let you snip my tongue,” said Nat, heroically, for he dreaded pain.

Mr. Bhaer smiled, but shook his head.

“I have a better way than that, I tried it once before and it worked well. See now, when you tell a lie I will not punish you, but you will punish me.”

“How?” asked Nat.

“You will ferule me in the good old-fashioned way; I seldom do it myself, but it may make you remember better to give me pain than to feel it yourself.”

“Strike you? Oh, I can’t!” cried Nat.

“Then watch your tongue. I have no wish to be hurt, but I will gladly bear much pain to cure this fault.”

This suggestion made such an impression on Nat, that for a long time he watched upon his lips, and was desperately accurate. But alas! One sad day, when Emil threatened to thrash him, if it was he who had run over his garden and broken down his best hills of corn, Nat declared he didn’t, and then was ashamed to own up that he did do it, when Jack was chasing him the night before.

He thought no one saw it, but Tommy happened to see him, and when Emil spoke of it a day or two later, Tommy gave his evidence, and Mr. Bhaer heard it. School was over, and Mr. Bhaer took Nat by the hand and led him into the school and shut the door.

“You remember what I told you last time?” said Mr. Bhaer, sorrowfully, not angrily.

“Yes; but please don’t make me beat you,” cried Nat, with both hands behind him, and a face full of distress.

“I shall keep my word, and you must remember to tell the truth. Obey me, Nat, take this and give me six good strokes.”

Nat took the rule, for when Mr. Bhaer spoke in that tone everyone obeyed him. The boy gave two feeble blows on the broad hand held out to him. Then he stopped and looked up half-blind with tears, but Mr. Bhaer said steadily:

“Go on, and strike harder.”

Nat drew his sleeve across his eyes and gave two more quick hard strokes that reddened the hand, yet hurt the giver more.

“Isn’t that enough?” he asked.

“Two more,” was all the answer, and he gave them, then threw the rule all across the room, and hugging the kind hand in both his own, laid his face down:

“I will remember! Oh! I will!”

Then Mr. Bhaer put an arm about him[10], and said in a compassionate tone:

“I think you will. Ask the dear God to help you.”

Tommy saw it through the window. He said no more, for he crept back to the hall, looking so excited that the boys crowded round him to ask him about Nat. In a most impressive whisper Tommy told them.

“He made me do the same thing once,” said Emil.

“And you hit him? dear old Father Bhaer?”

“It was so long ago.”

Nat did not come to dinner, but Mrs. Jo took some up to him, and said a tender word, though he could not look at her. He opened door to slip away into the woods. The walk did Nat good, and he came home quieter than usual.

No one said a word about the scene of the morning, but its effect was lasting. Nat tried his very best, and found much help from the earnest little prayers he prayed to his Friend in heaven.

A Trouble-Maker

“Please, ma’am, could I speak to you? It is something very important,” said Nat one day, popping his head in at the door of Mrs. Bhaer’s room.

Mrs. Jo looked up and said, briskly,

“What is it, my lad?”

Nat came in, shut the door carefully behind him, and said in an eager, anxious tone,

“Dan has come.”

“Who is Dan?”

“He’s a boy I used to know when I fiddled round the streets. He sold papers, and he was kind to me, and I saw him the other day in town, and told him how nice it was here, and he’s come.”

“But, my dear boy, that is rather a sudden visit.”

“Oh, it isn’t a visit; he wants to stay if you let him!” said Nat innocently.

“Well, I don’t know about that,” began Mrs. Bhaer, rather startled by the coolness of the proposition.

“Why, I thought you liked to have poor boys come and live with you, and be kind to them as you were to me,” said Nat, looking surprised and alarmed.

“So I do, but I like to know something about them first. I choose them, because there are so many. I have not room for all.”

“I told him to come because I thought you’d like it. But if there isn’t room he can go away again,” said Nat, sorrowfully.

The boy’s confidence in her hospitality touched Mrs. Bhaer, so she said,

“Tell me about this Dan.”

“I don’t know anything, only he hasn’t got any folks, and he’s poor, and he was good to me, so I’d like to be good to him.”

“But really, Nat, the house is full,” said Mrs. Bhaer.

“He may have my bed, and I can sleep in the barn. It isn’t cold now, and I don’t mind, I used to sleep anywhere with father,” said Nat, eagerly.

Something in his speech and face made Mrs. Jo put her hand on his shoulder, and say in her kindest tone:

“Bring in your friend[11], Nat. I think we will find room for him without giving him your place.”

Nat joyfully ran off, and soon returned followed by a boy, who slouched in and stood looking about him, with a half bold, half sullen look.

“This is Dan,” said Nat.

“Nat tells me you will like to come and stay with us,” began Mrs. Jo, in a friendly tone.

“Yes,” was the gruff reply.

“Have you any friends to take care of you?”

“No.”

“Say, ‘No, ma’am,’” whispered Nat.

“How old are you?”

“About fourteen.”

“You look older. What can you do?”

“Almost anything.”

“If you stay here we shall want you to do as the others do, work and study as well as play. Are you willing to agree to that?”

“I can try.”

“Well, you can stay a few days, and we will see how we get on together. Take him out, Nat, and amuse him till Mr. Bhaer comes home,” said Mrs. Jo.

She did not know how to get on with this cool young person, who fixed his big black eyes on her with a hard, suspicious expression, sorrowfully unboyish.

“Come on, Nat,” Dan said.

“Thank you, ma’am,” added Nat, as he followed him.

“The fellows are having a circus[12] out in the barn; don’t you want to come and see it?” he asked, as they came down the wide steps on to the lawn.

“Are they big fellows?” said Dan.

“No; the big ones are gone fishing.”

“Let’s go, then,” said Dan.

Nat led him to the great barn and introduced him to the boys. A large circle was marked out with hay on the wide floor, and in the middle stood Demi with a long whip, while Tommy, mounted on Toby, was a monkey.

“You must pay a pin, or you can’t see the show,” said Stuffy, who stood by the wheelbarrow.

“I’ll pay for both,” said Nat, handsomely, as he stuck two crooked pins in the dried mushroom which served as money-box.

With a nod to the company they seated themselves on a couple of boards, and the performance went on. Ned was jumping over an old chair, and running up and down ladders. Then Demi danced a jig. Nat wrestled with Stuffy. After this, Tommy proudly advanced to turn a somersault. His somersault was received with great applause, and he was about to retire, flushed with pride, when he heard a scornful voice,

“Ho! That is nothing!”

“Say that again, will you?” and Tommy bristled up like an angry turkey-cock.

“Do you want to fight?” said Dan, promptly descending from the barrel.

“No, I don’t;” and the candid Thomas retired.

“Fighting isn’t allowed!” cried the others, much excited.

“I see,” sneered Dan.

“If you don’t behave, you won’t stay,” said Nat.

“I’d like to see what he can do, that’s all,” observed Tommy, with a swagger.

“Clear the way, then,” and without the slightest preparation Dan turned three somersaults one after the other and came up on his feet.

The audience were shocked by three more somersaults backwards, and a short promenade on the hands, head down, feet up. Even Tommy joined in the admiring cries which greeted the gymnast. Dan looked at them with an air of calm superiority.

“What will you give me if I’ll teach you?” said Dan.

“My new jack-knife[13]; it’s got five blades, and only one is broken.”

“Give it here, then.”

Tommy handed it over. Dan examined it carefully, then putting it into his pocket, walked off,

saying with a wink,

“Just learn, that’s all.”

A howl of wrath from Tommy was followed by a general uproar. Dan, finding himself in a minority, proposed to play stick-knife[14]. Whichever wins will have the treasure. Tommy agreed, and the game was played in a circle of excited faces. Tommy won and secured the knife in the depth of his safest pocket.

“Let’s have a walk, and I’ll show you round,” said Nat, feeling that he must have a little serious conversation with his friend in private.

What passed between them no one knew, but when they appeared again, Dan was more respectful to the boys, though still gruff in his speech, and rough in his manner. The boys had decided that they did not like him, and so they left him to Nat.

Mr. Bhaer, when he heard the story and saw Dan, shook his head, but only said quietly,

“The experiment may cost us something, but we will try it.”

If Dan felt any gratitude for his protection, he did not show it. He was ignorant, but very quick to learn. He had sharp eyes to watch what went on about him; a saucy tongue, rough manners, and a temper that was fierce and sullen. He played with all his might, and played well at almost all the games. He was silent and gruff. Few really liked him, but they admired his courage and strength, for nothing daunted him. He knocked tall Franz with an ease that caused all the others to keep at a respectful distance from his fists. Mr. Bhaer watched him silently, and did his best to tame the

“Wild Boy,” as they called him, but in private the worthy man shook his head, and said soberly,

“I hope the experiment will turn out well, but I am a little afraid it may cost too much.”

Mrs. Bhaer lost her patience with him half a dozen times a day, yet always insisted that there was something good in the lad, after all. He was kinder to animals than to people, he liked to rove about in the woods, and, best of all, little Ted liked him. Ted called him “My Danny”. Teddy was the only creature to whom Dan showed an affection.

But an unexpected and decidedly alarming event upset all their plans, and banished Dan from Plumfield.

Tommy, Nat, and Demi liked the bad boy. Tommy admired his skill and courage; Nat was grateful for past kindness; and Demi regarded him as a sort of animated story book. Dan could tell his adventures in a most interesting way. It pleased Dan to have the three favorites, and he exerted himself to be agreeable, which was the secret of his success. The Bhaers were surprised.

Mr. Bhaer did not approve of fighting, and did not think it a proof of either manliness or courage for two lads to pommel one another for the amusement of the rest. All sorts of hardy games and exercises were encouraged; but black eyes and bloody noses were forbidden as a foolish and a brutal play. Dan laughed at this rule, and some of the lads desired to know more about fights.

“Don’t tell, and I’ll show you how,” said Dan.

Getting half a dozen of the lads together behind the barn, he gave them a lesson in boxing, which quite satisfied the ardor of most of them. Emil, however, could not submit to be beaten by a fellow younger than himself. Emil was past fourteen and he challenged Dan to a fight. Dan accepted at once, and the others looked on with intense interest.

When Dan and Emil were fighting like a pair of young bulldogs, and the others with fierce, excited faces were cheering them on, Mr. Bhaer walked into the ring, plucked the combatants apart with a strong hand, and said, in the voice they seldom heard,

“I can’t allow this, boys! Stop it at once; and never let me see it again. I keep a school for boys, not for wild beasts. Look at each other and be ashamed of yourselves.”

“You let me go, and I’ll knock him down again,” shouted Dan.

“Come on, come on!” cried Emil.

“Who proposed this?” asked Mr. Bhaer.

“Dan,” answered several voices.

“Don’t you know that it is forbidden?”

“Yes,” growled Dan, sullenly.

“Then why break the rule?”

“They’ll all be molly-coddles[15], if they don’t know how to fight.”

“Have you found Emil a molly-coddle?”

Dan had a black eye, and his jacket was torn to rags. Emil’s face was covered with blood from a cut lip and a bruised nose, while a bump on his forehead was already as purple as a plum.

“Dan, if you break the rules again, you will be sent away. That was the bargain.”

The lads went off, and after a few more words to the spectators, Mr. Bhaer followed to bind up the wounds of the young gladiators. Emil went to bed sick, and Dan was an unpleasant spectacle for a week. But the lawless lad soon transgressed again.

One Saturday afternoon as a party of the boys went out to play, Tommy said,

“Let’s go down to the river, and cut new fish-poles[16].”

“Take Toby to drag them back, and one of us can ride him down,” proposed Stuffy, who hated to walk.

“That means you, I suppose; well, hurry up, lazy-bones,” said Dan.

Away they went, and having got the poles were about to go home, when Demi unluckily said to Tommy, who was on Toby with a long rod in his hand,

“You look like the picture of the man in the bull-fight, only you haven’t got a red cloth, or pretty clothes on.”

“I’d like to see one. There’s old Buttercup in the big meadow, ride at her, Tom, and see her run,” proposed Dan.

“No, you mustn’t,” began Demi.

“Why not, little coward?” demanded Dan.

“I don’t think Uncle Fritz will like it.”

“Did he ever say we must not have a bull-fight?”

“No, I don’t think he ever did,” admitted Demi.

“Then hold your tongue. Drive on, Tom, and here’s a red rag to flap at the old cow. I’ll help you,” and over the wall went Dan, and the rest followed like a flock of sheep; even Demi who watched the fun with interest.

Poor Buttercup was not in a very good mood. Just now she regarded all mankind as her enemies, so when the matadore came towards her with the red handkerchief flying at the end of his long lance, she threw up her head, and gave a most appropriate “Moo!” Tommy rode gallantly at her, and Toby recognizing an old friend, was quite willing to approach. But when the lance came down on her back with a loud whack, both cow and donkey were surprised and disgusted. Toby back with a bray of remonstrance, and Buttercup lowered her horns angrily.

“At her again, Tom; she’s angry, she will fight capitally!” called Dan, coming up behind with another rod, while Jack and Ned followed his example.

Buttercup trotted round the field, getting more and more bewildered and excited every moment, for whichever way she turned, there was a dreadful boy, yelling and brandishing a new and very disagreeable sort of whip. It was great fun for them, but real misery for her, till she lost patience. All at once she turned round, and rushed at Toby. Poor Toby tripped over a stone, and down went horse, matadore, and all, in one ignominious heap, while distracted Buttercup jumped over the wall, and galloped wildly out of sight down the road.

“Catch her, stop her! Run, boys, run!” shouted Dan.

Finally she was caught. The fish-poles were left behind; and every boy was red, breathless, and scared. They found poor Buttercup at last in a flower garden, worn out with the long run. Dan led her home, followed by a party of young gentlemen, for the cow was in a sad state. She had strained her shoulder, so that she limped, her eyes looked wild, and she was wet and muddy.

“Old Bhaer will send me off, I guess. Don’t care if he does,” muttered Dan.

“We’ll ask him not to, all of us,” said Demi, and the others assented.

Dan only said, “Don’t bother about me.”

When Mr. Bhaer saw the animal, and heard the story, he said very little. Buttercup was made comfortable in her stall, and the boys sent to their rooms till supper-time. Dan whistled briskly in his room. He knew they tried to help him, and at the bottom of his heart he was grateful, but his rough life had made him hard and careless, suspicious and wilful. He hated restraint of any sort, and fought against it like an untamed creature.

Mr. Bhaer came in, and said,

“I have heard all about it, Dan, and though you have broken the rules again, I am going to give you one more trial, to please Mother Bhaer.”

“I didn’t know there was any rule about bull-fighting.”

“As I never expected to have any at Plumfield, I never did make such a rule,” answered Mr. Bhaer. Then he added gravely, “But one of the first and most important of our few laws is the law of kindness to every dumb creature on the place. I want everybody and everything to be happy here, to love and trust, and serve us, as we try to love and trust and serve them faithfully and willingly. I have often said that you were kinder to the animals than any of the other boys, and Mrs. Bhaer liked that trait in you very much. She thought it showed a good heart. But you have disappointed us in that, and we are sorry, for we hoped to make you quite one of us. Shall we try again?”

Dan’s eyes had been on the floor, but when he heard the kind voice ask that question, he looked up quickly,

“Yes, please.”

“Very well, then, we will say no more, only you will stay at home from the walk tomorrow.”

“I will.”

“Now, go down to supper, and do your best, my boy.”

Dan tried for a day or two, but soon relapsed into his old wilful ways. Mr. Bhaer was called from home on business one day, and the boys had no lessons. They liked this, and played till bedtime. Dan, however, had a plan in his head, and when he and Nat were alone, he unfolded it.

“Look here!” he said, taking from under his bed a bottle, a cigar, and a pack of cards, “I’m going to have some fun. Here’s some beer, I got if of the old man at the station, and this cigar. You can pay for them or Tommy will, he’s got heaps of money and I haven’t a cent.”

“The folks won’t like it,” began Nat.

“They won’t know. Daddy Bhaer is away, and Mrs. Bhaer’s busy with Ted; she can’t leave him. We shan’t sit up late or make any noise, so where’s the harm?”

“Asia will know if we burn the lamp long, she always does.”

“No, she won’t, I’ve got a dark lantern[17]; it don’t give much light. We can shut it quick if we hear anyone coming,” said Dan.

Nat obeyed, and returned in a minute with Tommy half dressed, but quite ready for fun as usual.

“Now, keep quiet, and I’ll show you how to play a wonderful game called ‘Poker,’” said Dan, as the three revellers gathered round the table, on which were set forth the bottle, the cigar, and the cards. “First we’ll all have a drink, then we’ll smoke, and then we’ll play. Men do like this, and it’s jolly fun.”

All three drank beer, though Nat and Tommy did not like it. The cigar was worse still, but they dared not say so, and each smoked till he was dizzy or choked. Dan liked it very much. He drank, and smoked, and swaggered, and he soon began to swear.

“You mustn’t; it’s wicked to say ‘Damn!’” cried Tommy.

“Oh! Don’t you preach, but play. It’s part of the fun to swear.”

“I’d rather say ‘thunder turtles,’” said Tommy, who had composed this interesting exclamation and was very proud of it.

“And I’ll say ‘The Devil;’ that sounds well,” added Nat.

Dan scoffed at their “nonsense,” and swore stoutly as he tried to teach them the new game. But Tommy was very sleepy, and Nat’s head began to ache with the beer and the smoke. The room was nearly dark, for the lantern burned badly. They could not laugh loud, for Silas slept next door in the shed-chamber, and altogether the party was dull. In the middle of the game Dan stopped suddenly, and called out, “Who’s that?”, and at the same moment drew the slide over the light. A voice in the darkness said tremulously, “I can’t find Tommy”.

“It’s Demi! Go to bed, Tom, and be silent!” cried Dan, beginning to tear off his clothes, while Nat did the same.

Tommy flew to his room and dived into bed, where he lay, laughing till something burned his hand, when he discovered that he was still clutching the stump of the festive cigar, which he was

smoking.

Tommy was snoring in ten minutes. The cigar did not go out, but smouldered away, and a hungry little flame went along the bedcover. It caught the sheets, and then the bed itself. The beer made Tommy sleep heavily, and the smoke stupefied Demi, so they slept on till the fire began to scorch them.

Franz was studying that time, and as he left the school-room he smelt the smoke, dashed up-stairs and saw it coming in a cloud from the left wing of the house. He ran into the room, dragged the boys from the blazing bed, and splashed the water to the flames. It did not quench

the fire, and the children wakened and began to roar. Mrs. Bhaer instantly appeared, and a minute after Silas burst out of his room shouting, “Fire!” in a tone that raised the whole house. For a minute every one was panic-stricken.

Then Mrs. Bhaer sent Franz and Silas downstairs for some tubs of wet clothes which she flung on the bed, over the carpet, and up against the curtains. Most of the boys stood dumbly looking on, but Dan and Emil worked bravely, running to and fro with water from the bath-room, and helping to pull down the curtains.

The peril was soon over. Mrs. Bhaer and Franz went to see how the poor boys got on. Demi had escaped with one burn and a grand scare. Tommy had not only most of his hair scorched off his head, but a great burn on his arm, that made him half crazy with the pain. Franz took Demi away to his own bed, where the kind lad soothed his fright and hummed him to sleep as cosily as a woman. Nursey watched over poor Tommy all night, trying to ease his misery.

When Mr. Bhaer got home next morning he found a nice state of things. Tommy in bed, Teddy wheezing like a little grampus, Mrs. Jo exhausted, and the boys so excited that they all talked at once, and almost dragged him to view the ruins.

There was no school that morning, but by afternoon the invalids were better, and there was time to hear and judge the little culprits quietly. Nat and Tommy told their parts in the mischief, and were honestly sorry for the danger they had brought to the dear old house and all in it. But Dan put on his devil-may-care look[18].

Mr. Bhaer hated drinking, gambling, and swearing. It grieved and angered him deeply to find that the boy, with whom he had tried to be most forbearing, took advantage of his absence to introduce these forbidden vices, and teach his innocent little lads to think it manly and pleasant to indulge in them. He talked long and earnestly to the assembled boys,

“I think Tommy is punished enough, and that scar on his arm will remind him for a long time to let these things alone. Nat’s fright will be enough for him, for he is really sorry, and does try to obey me. But you, Dan, have been many times forgiven, and yet it does no good. I cannot have my boys hurt by your bad example, nor my time wasted in talking to deaf ears. So you can say good-bye to them all, and tell Nursey to put up your things in my little black bag.”

“Oh! sir, where is he going?” cried Nat.

“To a pleasant place up in the country, where I sometimes send boys when they don’t do well here. Mr. Page is a kind man, and Dan will be happy there, I hope.”

“Will he ever come back?” asked Demi.

“That will depend on himself; I hope so.”

As he spoke, Mr. Bhaer left the room to write his letter to Mr. Page, and the boys crowded round Dan.

“Will you like it?” began Jack.

“I shan’t stay if I don’t,” said Dan coolly.

“Where will you go?” asked Nat.

“I may go to sea, or out west, or to California,” answered Dan, with a reckless air.

“Oh, don’t! Stay with Mr. Page awhile and then come back here; do, Dan,” pleaded Nat.

“I don’t care where I go, or how long I stay, And I won’t come here again,” with which wrathful speech Dan went away to put up his things, everyone of which Mr. Bhaer had given him.

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,

“May I say good-bye to Teddy?”

“Yes, dear; go in and kiss him, he will miss his Danny very much.”

He heard Mrs. Bhaer say pleadingly,

“Can’t we give the poor lad one more trial, Fritz?” and Mr. Bhaer answer,

“My dear, let him go where he can do no harm to others, while they do good to him, and by and by he will come back, I promise you.”

Dan heard Mrs. Bhaer sigh, and he wanted to ask for one more trial himself, but his pride did 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 with tears in their eyes.

A few days afterwards they received a letter from Mr. Page, saying that Dan was doing well, and they all rejoiced. But three weeks later came another letter, saying that Dan had run away, and nothing had been heard of him. Mr. Bhaer said,

“Perhaps I could give 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.

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 droll, though usually they were quite sensible.

“Daisy needs a companion, and the boys will be the better with another girl among them. They pet and tyrannize Daisy, and she is getting spoilt. Then they must learn to be gentle, and improve their manners.”

“You are right, as usual. Now, who shall we have?” asked Mr. Bhaer.

“Little Annie Harding.”

“What! Naughty Nan, as the lads call her?” cried Mr. Bhaer, looking very much amused.

“Yes, she is wild at home since her mother died, and is a bright child indeed. When I met her father in town I asked him why he did not send her to school. He said he would gladly if he could find a good school for girls.”

“Do you really want to take 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 her. 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. The tricksy midget will soon become a happy child. I know how to manage her, for I remember how my blessed mother managed me.”

“I only hope she won’t be another trouble-maker.”

“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, trotted to the door, and then trotted back again,

“My Danny will come soon.”

“Then I may have Nan, may I?” asked Mrs. Jo.

“A dozen Nans if you want them, my dear,” answered Mr. Bhaer.

When Mrs. Bhaer returned from her drive that afternoon, a small girl 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,

“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.

“Yes, she’s somewhere here,” said Nan. “I want to see the boys and the barn,” and ran off.

“Hello! Nan!” cried the boys.

“I’m going to stay.”

“Hooray!” bawled Tommy from the wall on which he was perched.

“What’s the matter with Stuffy?” asked Nan, whose quick eyes were roving from face to face.

“The ball hurt his hand; that’s why he is crying,” 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.

“See if you can.”

“Go and pick that bunch of nettles, then,” and Stuffy pointed to 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.

Stuffy said tauntingly,

“You poke your hands into everything. 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 ran to the barn. She gave her head a blow that sounded like a battering-ram[19]. Then 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.

Nan was ready, but Nat held her; and Tommy flew at Stuffy like a little cock,

“Stop it, or I’ll throw you over the barn!” and he shook and hustled poor Stuffy.

“It is awfully bad to hurt a little girl,” said Demi, reproachfully.

“Ho! I don’t mind; I’m not a little girl, I’m older than you and Daisy,” cried Nan, ungratefully.

“How do you do, Madge Wildfire?” said Mr. Bhaer, as Nan came in with the rest to supper. “Give the right hand, little daughter,” he added, as Nan offered him her left.

“The other hurts me.”

“The poor little hand! Why those blisters?” he asked, drawing it from behind her back.

Before Nan could think of any excuse, Daisy told the whole story, during which Stuffy tried to hide his face in a bowl of bread and milk. Mr. Bhaer looked down the long table towards his wife, and said with a laugh in his eyes,

“This is your business, my dear.”

Mrs. Jo said,

“Do you know why I asked Nan to come here?”

“To plague me,” muttered Stuffy.

“To make little gentlemen of you. And I think you have shown that some of you need it.”

Here Stuffy retired into his bowl again, and did not emerge. Demi said,

“How can she, when she’s such a boy herself?”

“She needs help as much as you, and I expect you set her an example of good manners.”

“Is she going to be a little gentleman too?” asked Rob.

“She’d like it,” added Tommy.

“No, I hate boys!” said Nan fiercely.

“I am sorry you hate my boys, because they can be well-mannered, and most agreeable. Kindness in looks and words and actions is true politeness.”

The boys took the hint, for that time at least, and passed the butter; said “please,” and “thank you,” “yes, sir,” and “no, ma’am,” with unusual elegance and respect. Nan said nothing, but kept

herself quiet and refrained from tickling Demi, though strongly tempted to do so. She also forgot her hatred of boys, and played with them till dark.

“When my suitcase comes, I’ll let you all play with my toys,” she said.

Her first remark in the morning was “Has my box come?” When they told her that it would arrive sometime during the day, she fretted and fumed, and whipped her doll, till Daisy was shocked. At five o’clock she disappeared.

“I saw her going down the avenue,” said Mary Ann. “Where is Nan?”

“She has run home, little gypsy!” cried Mrs. Bhaer, looking anxious.

“Perhaps she has gone to the station to look after her luggage,” suggested Franz.

“That is impossible, she does not know the way, and if she found it, she could never carry the box a mile,” said Mrs. Bhaer.

Mr. Bhaer took his hat to go and find the child, when a shout from Jack, who was at the window, made everyone hurry to the door.

There was Miss Nan, tugging along a very large box tied. She looked very hot and dusty and tired, but marched stoutly along, and came puffing up to the steps, where she dropped her load with a sigh of relief, and sat down upon it,

“I couldn’t wait any longer, so I went and got it.”

“But you did not know the way,” said Tommy.

“Oh, I found it, I never get lost.”

“It’s a mile, how could you go so far?”

“Well, it was pretty far, but I rested.”

“I don’t see how the station-master let you have it,” said Tommy.

“I didn’t say anything to him. He didn’t see me, so I just took it off the platform.”

“Run down and tell him it is all right, Franz, or old Dodd will think it is stolen,” said Mr. Bhaer.

“I told you we would send for it if it did not come. Another time you must wait, for you will get into trouble if you run away. Promise me this,” said Mrs. Bhaer, wiping the dust off Nan’s little hot face.

“Well, I won’t, only papa tells me not to put off doing things, so I don’t.”

“That is a difficult question,” said Mr. Bhaer, too much amused to be angry at the young lady’s exploit.

The boys thought it “great fun,” and Nan entertained them all supper-time with an account of her adventures. A big dog had barked at her, a man had laughed at her, a woman had given her a doughnut, and her hat had fallen into the brook when she stopped to drink, exhausted with her exertion.

“I know it will take some time to tame the child, but she is such a generous, warm-hearted little thing, I will love her even if she is twice as naughty,” said Mrs. Jo, pointing to the merry group, in the middle of which stood Nan, giving away her things right and left, as lavishly as if the big band-box had no bottom.

Those good traits soon made her a favorite with everyone. Daisy was not dull anymore, for Nan invented the most delightful plays, and her pranks amused the whole school. She gave away her new shoes to a beggar child, but found it impossible to combine charity and comfort. She delighted the boys by making a fire-ship out of a shingle. She harnessed the old turkey-cock to a straw wagon, and made him trot round the house at a tremendous pace. She gave her coral necklace for four unhappy kittens, which had been tormented by some heartless lads, and tended them for days as gently as a mother. She made Silas tattoo an anchor on her arm like his, and begged hard to have a blue star on each cheek, but he dared not do it. She rode every animal on the place, from the big horse Andy to the pig, from whom she was rescued with difficulty. Whatever the boys dared her to do she instantly attempted, no matter how dangerous it might be. And they were never tired of testing her courage.

Mr. Bhaer suggested to compete for studying, and Nan found much pleasure in using her quick wits and fine memory as her active feet and merry tongue. She showed the lads that girls could do most things as well as boys, and some things better. There were no rewards in school, but Mr. Bhaer’s “Well done!” and Mrs. Bhaer’s good report on the conscience book taught them to love duty and try to do it faithfully. Little Nan felt the new atmosphere and enjoyed it. This little garden was full of sweet flowers, half hidden by the weeds. When kind hands gently began to cultivate it, all sorts of green shoots sprung up, promising to blossom beautifully in the warmth of love and care, the best climate for young hearts and souls.

Dan comes back

One night when the little lads were in bed, the elder ones bathing down at the brook, and Mrs. Bhaer undressing Teddy in her parlor, he suddenly cried out, “Oh, my Danny!” and pointed to the window, where the moon shone brightly.

“No, dear, he is not there, it was the pretty moon,” said his mother.

“No, no, Danny at a window; Teddy saw him,” persisted baby, much excited.

Mrs. Bhaer hurried to the window. But the face was gone, and nowhere appeared any signs of the boy. She called his name, ran to the front door with Teddy in his little shirt. No one answered, nothing appeared, and they went back much disappointed.

Mrs. Bhaer sat sewing, for the big basket was always piled with socks, full of portentous holes, and thinking of the lost boy. She had decided that baby had been mistaken, and did not even disturb Mr. Bhaer, for he was busy writing letters. It was past ten when she rose to shut up the house. As she paused a minute to enjoy the lovely scene from the steps, something white caught her eye on one of the hay-cocks scattered over the lawn. As she approached, she saw a shirt sleeve with a brown hand sticking out of it. She hurried round the hay-cock, and there lay Dan, fast asleep.

He looked ragged, dirty, thin, and worn-out. One foot was bare, the other was tied up in the old jacket which he had taken from his own back to use as a clumsy bandage for some hurt. He had hidden himself behind the hay-cock, but in his sleep had thrown out the arm that had betrayed him. He sighed and muttered as if his dreams disturbed him, and once when he moved, he groaned as if in pain, but still slept.

“He must not lie here,” said Mrs. Bhaer and gently called his name. He opened his eyes and looked at her, as if she was a part of his dream, for he smiled and said drowsily, “Mother Bhaer, I’ve come home.”

The look, the words, touched her very much. She put her hand under his head to lift him up,

“I’m glad to see you, Dan.”

He suddenly remembered where he was. His face changed, and he said,

“I will leave in the morning. I only stopped to look at the house, as I went by.”

“But why not come in, Dan? Didn’t you hear us call you? Teddy saw, and cried for you.”

“I didn’t suppose you’d let me in,” he said.

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Примечания

1

in a low tone – вполголоса

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2

six on a side – по шесть с каждой стороны

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3

to music – под музыку

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4

You’ll belong to the band. – Ты попадёшь в оркестр.

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5

roly-poly – бойкий

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6

conscience book – книга совести

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7

guinea-pig – морская свинка

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8

worm-shop – магазин червяков

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9

told lies – врал

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10

put an arm about him – обнял его

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11

Bring in your friend. – Приводи своего друга.

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12

are having a circus – играют в цирк

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13

jack-knife – перочинный ножик

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14

to play stick-knife – поиграть в ножички

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15

molly-coddles – неженки

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16

cut new fish-poles – нарезать новых удилищ

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17

dark lantern – фонарь с задвижкой

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18

devil-may-care look – беззаботный вид

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19

battering-ram – стенобитное орудие

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