Part 3 (1/2)

Mrs. Moran presently opened it, and they saw Hitty sitting on a low stool, playing with the baby, who was cooing and crowing with delight at having her back again.

”I have come,” said Mrs. Gray, ”with my little niece, who injured your daughter at school. She wishes to ask you to forgive her.”

Nelly was crying bitterly, so that she could scarcely speak; but at last she sobbed out, ”I didn't mean to hurt her so. I'm very sorry.”

”Don't cry, pet!” said Mrs. Moran, kindly. ”I dare say you meant her no harm; and if you did, sure and we all are in the wrong sometimes. Hitty lays up nothing against you. There, honey, stop a bit, and she'll tell you the same. Come, Hitty, tell the little girl you forgive her, since the lady is so kind as to ask it.”

Hitty came forward with Bobby still in her arms, and when Nelly held out her hand, shook it cordially, saying, ”My head is almost well now, and by to-morrow I'll never think of the blow again. I'm sorry for you, Nelly, to see you crying so.”

Mrs. Gray sat for a time talking with Mrs. Moran, and encouraging her to allow Hitty to learn to read. There was one little boy just Frankie's age, whom the lady advised her to send to the public school.

This, the poor woman said, she should be glad to do, if the lad had clothes.

The next day, when Hitty returned from school, Nelly, Frankie, and Ponto accompanied her, each of them carrying a bundle as large as they could lift, with dresses, jackets, and sacks, the children had outgrown.

Mrs. Moran hardly knew how to express her grat.i.tude, as she held up one article after another, and saw how nicely they would fit Ned or others among her children.

This lesson, though severe at the time, was never forgotten by Nelly.

After this no one was more eager than she to show kindness to Hitty, or more pleased when the poor girl succeeded in learning to read.

In the afternoon most of the scholars repeated a hymn which they had learned at home, or a few verses from the Bible. Nelly noticed that Hitty never repeated any, and one day asked her the reason.

”I haven't any books,” answered the child, ”and then I couldn't make out the hard words, you know.”

Nelly looked thoughtful for a minute, and then jumped up and down in her glee. ”Ask your mother to let you come to aunty's to-night, or else come early to school and stop there to-morrow,” she cried, ”and I will teach you one of my pretty songs.”

Two days later, when Miss Grant said, ”Now we will hear the hymns or verses,” Hitty, with a timid air and a blus.h.i.+ng face, took her stand on the floor. She cast a glance at Nelly, whose whole countenance was glowing with pleasure, and then repeated the following pretty hymn:--

”'Who was that, dear mamma, who ate Her breakfast here this morn?

With tangled hair and ragged shoes, And gown and ap.r.o.n torn?'

'They call her lazy Jane, my dear; She begs her bread all day, And gets a lodging in the barn, At night, among the hay.

'For when she was a little girl, She loved her play too well; At school she would not mind her book, Nor learn to read and spell.

'”Dear Jane,” her mother oft would say, ”Pray learn to work and read; Then you'll be able, when you're grown, To earn your clothes and bread.”'

But lazy Jenny did not care; She'd neither knit nor sew; To romp with naughty girls and boys Was all that she would do.

So she grew up a very dunce; And when her parents died, She knew not how to teach a school, Nor work, if she had tried.

And now, an idle vagabond, She strolls about the streets; And not a friend can Jenny find In any one she meets.

And now, dear child, should you neglect Your book or work again, Or play, when you should be at school, Remember Lazy Jane.”

CHAPTER VI.

FRANKIE AND THE CRIPPLE.