Part 19 (1/2)
”That would be quite different,” said Frank. ”You are a stranger. I was often here last winter. I am one of the children when I am here.
Aunt Mary does not make a stranger of me.”
”But, Frank,” said Jessie, ”David is away now on Sunday afternoon, and Violet and Jem. And, perhaps, mamma will let us all go, and go herself, if there are any more children.”
”Where?” asked Frank.
”At Sunday-school--down on Muddy Lane. Mr Caldwell's Sunday-school.”
”Old Caldwell!” said Frank. ”That's the way, is it? How do you like it, Davie?”
”Sunday-school is not a new thing to us, you know,” said David.
”But it is a new thing for you to be a teacher,” said Jem. ”Oh! he likes it. Davie's a great man on Sunday, down in Muddy Lane.”
”Nonsense, Jem!”
”I went once,” said Jessie, ”and it is very nice. Letty sings, and the children sing too. And one of the girls broke Letty's parasol--” And Mrs Inglis's attention being occupied for the moment, Jessie gave other particulars of the school, quite unmindful of her sister's attempts to stop her.
Ned had something to tell, too, and entered into minute particulars about a wager between two of the boys, as to whether Mr Caldwell wore a wig or not, and the means they took to ascertain the truth about it.
”They must be rather stupid not to know that,” said Frank.
”Do you like it?” asked Philip of Violet.
”Yes, indeed! I like it very much. But I don't like Ned's telling tales out of school, nor Jessie, either.”
”But mine are not bad tales. I like it too,” said Jessie.
”But I should think it would be very unpleasant. And what is the good of it? Muddy Lane of all places!” said Philip, making an astonished face.
”That shows that you don't know Aunt Mary and her children,” said Frank, laughing. ”You would never ask what is the good, if you did.”
”I know, of course, there must be good to the children, but I should think it would be decidedly unpleasant for you. Muddy Lane cannot be a nice place at any time, and now that the warm weather is coming--”
”You don't suppose Violet is one of the people who is afraid of a little dust, or bad odours, and all that, do you?” asked Frank.
”She rather likes it--self-denial and all that,” said Jem. ”And as for Davie--”
”Nonsense, Jem! Self-denial indeed! There is very little of that,”
said David. ”You know better than that, if Frank does not.”
”And old Caldwell, of all people in the world,” said Philip, laughing; ”I did not suppose he could speak to any one younger than fifty--except Davie. What can he have to say to children, I wonder?”
”Oh, he has enough to say. You ought to hear him,” said Jem.
”Thank you. I'll come and hear him--to-morrow, perhaps.”
”Mr Caldwell did not like the new hymn-book at first,” said Jessie.
”But the children like them, and Letty teaches them to sing, and it is very nice. I hope we can go to-morrow.”