Part 7 (1/2)
There ain't enough willainy in Kindergarten to keep their minds h'occupied. They's pinin' for the streets long afore you'd h'ever believe it,--their 'earts ain't satisfied with beads and paper, childern's obliged to have a little willainy mixed in.”
But despite 'Tildy's pessimistic views, on the fifth morning of their absence, Miss Ruth had just determined to send around to the Tenement, when a knock summoned her to the door.
Outside stood the smiling Angel, in her little winter cloak and hood, her hand in that of a very large, very grizzled, and very military-looking man, who greeted Miss Stannard with a salute reminding her at once of Joey.
”What has become of my friend, the Major?” she inquired, ushering them into the school-room.
”Joey couldn't come,” explained the Angel, mournfully.
”It was to tell you about him, ma'am, I stepped around,” replied the man, gazing admiringly about the bright room, with its pictures, its growing plants, its tables, and dozens of little red chairs. ”It is a pretty place now, I must say, and it's no wonder the little chap likes to come here. He's been that worried, and fretting so about the little one not getting to school, that I promised him I'd march her 'round here every day if he'd call a halt on his fretting.”
”He is sick, then?” Miss Ruth inquired.
”Well, it didn't seem as if it was enough to lay him off duty,”
responded the man, as he regarded Miss Ruth with friendly gaze; ”he's a knowin' little shaver, the Major is, and great on tryin' to help me.”
”Are you the friend that he calls Old G. A. R.?” inquired Miss Ruth, with sudden intuition, as she smiled back into the weather-beaten face.
The old soldier chuckled. ”He's told you about that, has he?
'Old G. A. R.!' Great name, ain't it?”
”Why does he call you by it?”
”Grand Army of the Republic, ma'am. I'm a member, and I reckon I do anecdote about it overmuch at times. The Reg'ment round there, they dubbed me that.”
”And the Major?”
”That's right, ma'am, for'ard march! I'm gettin' to it. He was in the Arm'ry with me, the other day, a-pretendin' to help me clean up, and he fell off one of the cannon he was monkeyin' round. He didn't seem so bad hurt, at first, but somehow, after I come to think it over, he hasn't seemed to want to move round since, so I lay it to that.”
”Have you had a doctor to see him?” asked Miss Ruth, waving the groups of arriving children on to 'Tildy's care.
”No, ma'am, I haven't. The officer that took the fancy to the little chap and pays for his eatin' along with me at the restaurant, he's been out of town for six weeks, and after leaving the baby here, I am on my way to his office now, to see if he has got back,” and he stepped toward the door.
”I will take Angel home and stop by there and see Joey,” said Miss Ruth.
”We'll be happy to have you, ma'am,” and with a salute, the old soldier marched out the door.
”Indade, Miss Ruthie, an' it's proud I am to go wid ye,” said Mrs.
O'Malligan some hours later, in response to Miss Ruth's request to go over to the Armory with her, ”just ye wait till I starts the Angel choild up the steps,” and Mrs. O'Malligan accordingly, was soon accompanying Miss Ruth through the big door of the Armory.
The old soldier met them and led the way into a neat box of a room, very orderly, very spotless. Here, on a cot, lay the Major, his eyes turned to meet them expectantly. It was quite pitiful to see how these few days had changed him into the white little chap looking up from the pillow.
”Well, Major,” began Miss Ruth, cheerily, and at sound of her bright, animated voice, a figure in the shadow on the other side of the cot looked up.
”Why, Mr. Dilke,” cried Miss Ruth, at sight of the young and very properly attired gentleman who stood up to greet her.
The young gentleman came round and shook hands with evident pleasure.
”So you are the wonderful '_Teacher_,' Miss Stannard?”