Part 18 (1/2)

While this second lesson was yet in progress, Dirk and one or two other fishermen came up from their boats, and stopped to look on, with wonder and astonishment written on their countenances.

”I don' know,” said Dirk, shaking his head as he eyed the mystic characters traced before him; ”we be all poor folk, anyhow, an' this do beat me! Why, what be this?” he exclaimed, pointing at a letter staring up at him from the sand at his feet.

”That be A!” said half a dozen voices at once.

”An' what be this?” said Hark Darby, pointing to a character by his feet.

”That be B!” chorused the voices again.

The two fishermen exchanged wondering glances. ”That do beat me!” said poor Dirk, regarding the letters before him with much awe. ”Ah, lad,”

turning to Noll, ”my little gal w'u'd liked yer teaching, an' yer B's an' A's, eh?” and Dirk drew his hand across his eyes.

Noll went home much encouraged after this second alphabet lesson. Time and patience would do something for these Culm children, after all, he thought. And could he have the patience and skill which was necessary?

”I'll try,--I'll try hard for it!” he thought, ”and pray Christ to keep me from losing my patience and courage. It's his work, and he'll help me to teach them, and by winter there'll be something accomplished.” And of his help he had great need, for patience and courage were often sorely tried in the days which followed, and it was not always his pupils' obtuseness which brought the greatest strain to bear upon them. One old fish-wife, the oldest woman in the village, had regarded the whole plan of teaching the children as suspicious and ill-omened.

”It be a bad day fur us, lads,” she warned, standing on Dirk's door-step among the fishermen, and looking frowningly upon Noll as he instructed his pupils in the making of U. ”It be no good fur yer chile to be ther', Hark Darby, learnin' ye don' know what! Yes, lads, I say it be an evil day, and ye'll find no good c.u.m from it! I warn ye, I warn ye!” shaking her skinny forefinger and solemnly nodding her head.

Noll's face flushed at these words, and he half resolved to go home, and leave these Culm children to their parents' ignorance.

”I warn ye! I--” The old crone was about to continue her forebodings; but Dirk interposed with a gruff, ”Hush ye, hush ye, Mother Deb! ye be doin' the lad wrong. D'ye think he be one to teach our young uns wrong, eh? Be it evil, think ye? W'u'd he be doin' us a bad turn who's mendin' the housen an' makin' us comf'table? I'd like ye ter show't, mother, ef it be!”

”Ay,” said Hark Darby, ”an' ef he ken do us evil, who ha' been so good an' kind in the sickness, we w'u'd like ye ter show't, Mother Deb!”

The old woman said no more, but went muttering homeward, not all convinced that Noll was not teaching the children some evil, mysterious art.

CHAPTER XVIII.

THE WORK FINISHED.

The days went by,--busy enough for Noll with lessons and the afternoon lesson at Culm,--and John Sampson's labors began to draw to a close.

The carpenter had worked steadily and faithfully, and the result was a gratifying one to more than one person. True, the houses were not models of elegance; that was not needed; and they _did_ look somewhat patchy, with here and there a fresh new board over the old weather-beaten gray of the dwelling, and new doors staring blank and yellow out of the dinginess of their surroundings; but, if they were not handsome, they were thoroughly repaired and now stood warmer and more comfortable than any of the present generation of Culm people had ever known them.

If they could only have a coat of paint or whitewash to make them look fresh and cheerful, what an improvement it would be! Noll thought. How the sun would gleam upon them with his last ruddy rays as he sank into the sea! How fair and pleasant they would look from the sea, when the coast first came upon the mariner's vision! It would be one bright spot against the black background of the Rock,--those twelve houses,--if only they might have a coat of fresh white paint. But after counting his stock of money, this desire was obliged to remain ungratified; for there was the carpenter's bill, which would shortly be due, and must be paid upon the completion of the work.

”The houses must wait till--till another year,” Noll thought, with something like a sigh; ”they can wait, after all, for the painting isn't really necessary, though it would improve them wonderfully! And I'm thankful enough that I can pay the carpenter. Oh, but I wonder if Ned ever regrets his denial, and longs for the pony?”

Letters came down from Ned Thorn with almost every trip of the ”Gull,”

but not a word about the pony did they contain, nor the least sentence which Noll could interpret to mean a sigh or regret for the pet which he had given up. If Ned felt any regret, it was all carefully hidden from his friend's observation, and the missives, which Noll received through the skipper's kindness, were fairly bubbling over with the briskness and bright spirits of Ned's light heart.

”If they should stop coming, I don't know how I _could_ manage,”

thought Noll; ”I'm afraid Culm Rock would grow dreadfully lonesome and dreary.” It was always, ”And how do you get on with your plan?--and are the houses 'most finished?” or, ”Have you got those Culm savages almost civilized, you dear old Noll?--and does Uncle Richard know anything about it yet? Won't he stare! and what do you suppose he'll say?” or, ”Oh, now I think of it, how many scholars in Latin have you got down there? and how do they manage with their Greek? And are you putting on airs because you've got to be a pedagogue? And how much is the tuition a term?--because, you see, I've some idea of going away to boarding-school, and yours might suit me, if the charges aren't too high.” And the whole generally concluded with, ”P. S.--I don't mean a word of all that last I've written, my dear Noll, and you're not to think so. How does the money hold out? Don't fail to let me know if you're in a tight place, and I'll try to get a few dollars somehow.

And hurry up and answer this letter by return steamer (what should we do if the old 'Gull' went to the bottom?), and so good-night,” etc., etc.

Perhaps Noll expected a great deal too much of the Culm people when he looked to see them give up their filthy and slovenly habits at once, after getting fairly settled again in their whole and comfortable abodes. If he really expected to see this, he was disappointed. People do not follow a habit for the best part of a lifetime, to give it up suddenly and at once, even when grat.i.tude and a sense of their short-coming are both urging them to do so. So he was obliged to content himself with some few faint evidences of thrift, and a desire to do better, on the part of those whom he had befriended, and wait patiently for the rest.

Dirk's household improved somewhat. Dirk was the most intelligent of the fishermen, and began to dimly perceive that it was much better and pleasanter to live cleanly and neatly than to pattern his household arrangements after the beasts of the field. He was, moreover, strongly actuated to reform his way of living by his deep, strong sense of grat.i.tude to Noll, which led him to endeavor to accomplish whatever the boy suggested. It gave the stalwart fisherman something like a feeling of shame to see the lad--bright, fresh, and ruddy--enter his dirty and smoke-begrimed hovel and hardly be able to find himself a seat among the litter of old nets, broken chairs, household utensils, and all conceivable kinds of rubbish which strewed the floors and filled the corners.