Part 14 (2/2)

It was a lesson evening, but a few minutes before the time a message was brought to the oriel room by good-natured Thomas. It was from Jesse to ask if he might come up, though he knew it was too early, as he wanted ”pertickler” to see Master Ferdy before ”the gentleman came.”

”He may, mayn't he, Miss Lilly?” asked the little invalid.

”Oh yes,” Eva replied. She was careful to please Mrs. Ross by not letting Jesse ever forget to be quite polite and respectful, and never, as he would have called it himself, ”to take freedoms,” and there was a sort of natural quickness about the boy which made it easy to do this.

And somehow, even the few hours he spent at the Watch House--perhaps too the refining effect of his pretty work--had already made a great change in him. The old half-defiant, half-good-natured, reckless look had left him; he was quite as bright and merry as before, but no one now, not even Flowers, could accuse him of being ”impudent.”

He came in now with an eager light in his eyes, his brown face ruddier than usual; but he did not forget to stop an instant at the door while he made his usual bow or sc.r.a.pe--or a mixture of both.

”Good evening, Jesse,” said Ferdy, holding out his hand. ”Why, what have you got there?” as he caught sight of some odd-shaped packages of various sizes, done up in newspaper, which Jesse was carrying.

”Please, Master Ferdy, I've brought 'em to show you. It's my pupils as has done them. They're nothing much, I know, but still I'm a bit proud of 'em, and I wanted to show them to you and Miss here, first of all.”

He hastened, with fingers almost trembling with eagerness, to unpack the queer-looking parcels, Miss Lilly, at a glance from Ferdy, coming forward to help him. Ferdy's own cheeks flushed as the first contents came to light.

”Oh,” he exclaimed, ”I _wish_ I could sit up!”

But in another moment he had forgotten his little cry of complaint, so interested was he in the curious sight before him.

All sorts and shapes of wooden objects came to view. There were pigs'

heads, evidently modelled on old Jerry, dogs, and horses, and cows, some not to be mistaken, some which would, it must be confessed, have been the better for a label with ”This is a--,” whatever animal it was meant to be, written upon it; there were round plates with scalloped edges, some with a very simple wreath of leaves; boxes with neat little stiff designs on the lids--in fact, the funniest mixture of things you ever saw, but all with _attempt_ in them--attempt, and good-will, and patience, and here and there a touch of something more--of real talent, however untrained--in them all, or almost all, signs of love of the work.

There came a moment or two of absolute silence--silence more pleasing to Jesse than any words, for as his quick eyes glanced from one to another of his three friends, he saw that it was the silence of delight and surprise.

At last said Ferdy, his words tumbling over each other in his eagerness, ”Miss Lilly, Chrissie, isn't it wonderful? Do you hear what Jesse says?

It's his _pupils_. He's been teaching what he's been learning. Tell us all about it, Jesse.”

”Do, do,” added Eva. ”Yes, Ferdy, you're quite right--it's wonderful.

Who are they all, Jesse?”

[Ill.u.s.tration: ”WE WORKS IN A SHED THERE, IN A FIELD BY THE SMITHY ...

AND WE'RE AS JOLLY AS SAND-BOYS.”]

”There's about a dozen, altogether,” began Jesse, with, for the first time, a sort of shyness. ”It began with one or two at the farm; seein'

me so busy of an evening, they thought it'd be better fun nor throwin'

sticks into the water for the dogs to catch, or smokin' them rubbis.h.i.+n'

sham cigars. We sat in the barn, and then one day I met Barney--Barney Coles, cousin's son to Uncle Bill at Draymoor. Barney's not a bad chap, and he's been ill and can't go in the mines. And we talked a bit, and he axed how it was I never come their way, and I said how busy I was, and he might see for hisself. So he comed, and he's got on one of the fastest--with plain work like,” and Jesse picked out one or two neat little boxes and plates, with stiff unfanciful patterns, carefully done.

”He's lots of time just now, you see, and he's got a good eye for measuring. And then he brought one or two more, but I was afraid master wouldn't be best pleased at such a lot of us, so now I go two evenings a week to Bollins, close by your place, miss,” with a nod, not in the least intended to be disrespectful, in Miss Lilly's direction, ”and we works in a shed there, in a field by the smithy. We got leave first, that's all right, and we fixed up a plank table and some benches, and we're as jolly as sand-boys. I've often had it in my mind to tell you, but I thought I'd better wait a bit till I had somethin' to show.”

”You will tell Mr. Brock about it?” said Miss Lilly. ”He will be _nearly_ as pleased as we are--he can't be _quite_. I don't think I have ever been more pleased in my life, Jesse.”

It was ”wonderful,” as Ferdy had said. Jesse Piggot, the ringleader in every sort of mischief, the ”cheeky young rascal” out of one sc.r.a.pe into another, to have started a cla.s.s for ”art work” among the rough colliery boys of Draymoor!

”Oh, I do wish grandfather were back again,” Eva went on. ”_He_ will help you, Jesse, in every way he possibly can, I know.”

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