Part 2 (2/2)
”Suppose you couldn't get a new one?”
”Then we should have had to set our wits to work, and contrive some other way of fastening the door, so that mamma shouldn't take cold by its being open, nor yet be disturbed by the noise of it.”
”It would be so nice to be able to do everything!” said Willie.
”So it would; but n.o.body can; and it's just as well, for then we should not need so much help from each other, and would be too independent.”
”Then shouldn't a body try to do as many things as he can?”
”Yes, for there's no fear of ever being able to do without other people, and you would be so often able to help them. Both the smith and the watch maker could mend a lock, but neither of them could do without the other for all that.”
When Willie went to bed, he lay awake a long time, thinking how, if the lock could not have been mended, and there had been no other to be had, he could have contrived to keep the door shut properly. In the morning, however, he told his father that he had not thought of any way that would do, for though he could contrive to shut and open the door well enough, he could not think how a person outside might be able to do it; and he thought the best way, if such a difficulty should occur, would be to take the lock off his door, and put it on mamma's till a better one could be got. Of this suggestion his father, much to Willie's satisfaction, entirely approved.
CHAPTER IV.
HE SERVES AN APPRENTICEs.h.i.+P.
Willie's mother grew better, and Willie's sister grew bigger; and the strange nurse went away, and Willie and his mother and Tibby, with a little occasional a.s.sistance from the doctor, managed the baby amongst them. Considering that she had been yet only a short time at school, she behaved wonderfully well. She never cried except she was in some trouble, and even then you could seldom have seen a tear on her face.
She did all that was required of her, grew longer and broader and heavier, and was very fond of a lighted candle. The only fault she had was that she wouldn't give Willie quite so many smiles as he wanted. As to the view she took of affairs, she seemed for a long time to be on the whole very well satisfied with life and its gifts. But when at last its troubles began to overtake her, she did not approve of them at all.
The first thing she objected to was being weaned, which she evidently considered a very cruel and unnecessary experience. But her father said it must be, and her mother, believing him to know best, carried out his decree. Little Agnes endured it tolerably well in the daytime, but in the night protested l.u.s.tily--was indeed so outrageously indignant, that one evening the following conversation took place at the tea-table, where Willie sat and heard it.
”Really, my dear,” said Mrs Macmichael, ”I cannot have your rest disturbed in this way another night. You must go to Willie's room, and let me manage the little squalling thing myself.”
”Why shouldn't I take my share of the trouble?” objected her husband.
”Because you may be called up any moment, and have no more sleep till next night; and it is not fair that what sleep your work does let you have should be so unnecessarily broken. It's not as if I couldn't manage without you.”
”But Willie's bed is not big enough for both of us,” he objected.
”Then Willie can come and sleep with me.”
”But Willie wants his sleep as much as I do mine.”
”There's no fear of him: he would sleep though all the babies in Priory Leas were crying in the room.”
”Would I really?” thought Willie, feeling rather ashamed of himself.
”But who will get up and warm the milk-and-water for you?” pursued his father.
”Oh! I can manage that quite well.”
”Couldn't I do that, mamma?” said Willie, very humbly, for he thought of what his mother had said about his sleeping powers.
”No, my pet,” she answered; and he said no more.
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