Part 22 (1/2)

”I never fight!” replied Guy. ”Besides, we have nothing to fight about. I only wish you to let my little friend, Madge, alone.”

”She!” retorted Jem, ”that swearing cat your friend, Master Guy Carlton.

Pooh! You don't have swearing gals among your friends, I know. That gal is some beggar's brat, and we only want to have some fun with her.”

Jem's tone was much lowered toward the latter part of his speech. His hands, too, fell as if by instinct to his pockets. Peter Mink and Noll Crawford drew back, the latter saying as he did so--

”Come, Jem, let's leave the s.p.u.n.ky little gentleman and his friend, Madge, to themselves. I'd rather pick up hickory nuts than listen to his gab.”

”Discretion always is the better part of valor, as Uncle Morris says,”

thought Guy, as he walked away with his sisters, patting the head of old Rover.

It was the coming up of old Rover which had cooled off Idle Jem and his crew. The dog had been strolling about the pasture while Jessie was skating. Having missed his young master and mistress on returning to the pond, the faithful fellow had followed them. He came up just at the right moment. His rows of big white teeth, and his low growl, taught the idlers the discretion which Guy praised and which led them to cease their angry jibes. With Guy alone they might have contended. But Rover was an enemy they had not courage to face.

To the wounded pride and the ill temper of Madge, shame was now added. The kind and gentle Jessie had heard her _swear_, had seen her face flushed with pa.s.sion, had had a glimpse into the dark corner of her evil nature.

Poor Madge! She sullenly refused to speak or to permit either of the party to take her hand; but lagging behind the rest, she silently followed them home.

Jessie bade her friend, Carrie, good-by in front of Mr. Sherwood's cottage. As they kissed each other, Carrie put her mouth to Jessie's ear and whispered--

”Jessie, shall I tell you what I think about Madge?”

”Yes.”

”I wouldn't trouble my head about her any more, if I were you. She is a terribly wicked creature!”

Jessie sighed, but said nothing. On reaching home finding no one at liberty to talk with her, she went to her chamber and getting her writing materials and her portfolio, went down into the parlor and wrote the following answer to her cousin Emily's letter:

GLEN MORRIS COTTAGE, DUNCANVILLE, NOV. --, 18--.

DEAR COUSIN:

I was glad to receive your letter, and to learn that you were all well at Morristown. I cannot tell you how happy it made me to hear that you are trying to be good. I wish I was good all the time, but, as Uncle Morris says, it is so much easier to do wrong than it is to do right. I can't tell you how much I love our dear uncle, for he is always helping me to be good. He says a good heart is G.o.d's gift, and that we must ask him to give it to us for the sake of his dear Son.

Well, I ask for a good heart three times every day, and if you do so too, G.o.d will hear you and bless you.

What do you think? Yesterday I found a poor girl named Madge in the road near the pump at the four corners. You know the place. Well, I asked Uncle Morris to take her home and he did. Her mother is here too. I thought Madge was so nice, and would learn to be good _so_ easy, that I began to love her dearly. But to-day, she swore dreadfully and wouldn't speak to me. Isn't it fearful? I'm afraid I shan't be able to love her as I want to any more. Oh dear! I'm so sorry. Well, you and I must try to be good. Give my love to uncle and aunt, and to Charlie, and believe me to be

Your affectionate Cousin, JESSIE CARLTON.

P. S. I've almost finished Uncle Morris's slippers. J. C.

CHAPTER XIV.

The Watch-Pocket finished.

”Well, Jessie, how do you like your black-eyed _protege_?” asked Uncle Morris, a few days after the events recorded in the last chapter.

”Pretty--well--but--but--”