Next Part The Shoemaker's Daughters CHAPTER 6+1
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"There is a little boy in the passage, who wants to see Miss Webster," said a servant, entering the room, and interrupting the conversation.
"Bring him in here, then, Nancy," said Anne, who conjectured that it was her little friend from Mrs. Hardamer's.
"Why, Jimmy! — I'm so glad to see you!" she said, in the next minute, as a pale, meager looking boy, poorly clad, came forward with a timid and hesitating step, looking earnestly, at the same time, into the face of Mrs. Flathers, with an expression that asked, as plain as words, "Am I wrong in coming here?"
"This is the little boy, Mrs. Flathers, of whom I have told you," said Anne.
"Why haven't you been to see Anne before, my little fellow?" said Mrs. Flathers, kindly. "She told me that you liked her very much; or, at least, that you were in the habit of saying so."
"And, indeed, I do," said the child, his eyes filling with tears, "but I was afraid to come."
"You found courage at last, it seems," she replied with an encouraging smile.
"Yes, ma'am. I wanted to see her so badly, that I at last ventured to come here."
"Anne must have been good to you — as you seem to like her so well."
"Indeed, indeed she is so good to me! And, now, she's the only friend I've got," the tears again starting to his eyes.
"Well, it would be a pity to intrude upon two such firm friends; and so I will retire," said Mrs. Flathers, smiling.
"And how have things gone on since I left you, Jimmy?" asked Anne, after Mrs. Flathers had left the room.
"Not as good as when you were there Miss Anne. Nobody cares for us, as you did. But then, we are all so glad you've got a better place, and wouldn't have you back again, to be abused and insulted as you were, for the world. But Genevra and Gertrude have gained nothing by it, for Mr. Marshall doesn't come there at all anymore, and we know it's because he didn't find you there."
"Why, Jimmy! What are you talking about?" exclaimed Anne, taken by surprise, for she had never mentioned to anyone in the house, the unpleasant interview between her and Mrs. Hardamer.
"But who told you that I was abused and insulted?" she added.
"Why, Millie heard it all, and told us about it. It would have done your heart good to have heard how the boys went on. Ike, and the rest of them, say they'll make the house too hot to hold them all, now that you, the only friend they ever had there — have been forced to go away."
"Indeed, Jimmy, I hope the boys won't do anything wrong on my account," she said, with much concern.
"They've got a decided grudge against the whole family, and are going to have it out with them — now that you aren't there to hold them back, as you used to do," replied the little boy.
"But you are not going to have anything to do with it, are you Jimmy?"
"O, no, indeed, Miss Anne! I'm too little. And, any how, I wouldn't think it right to do it myself, though I'm glad when they cool them off a little, as they have, since you've been away."
"Did you say that Mr. Marshall had stopped going to see the young ladies?" asked Anne.
"Yes, indeed, he has. He asked for you one night, so Millie says, and they were quite angry about it; and so he just up and told them, that you were worth a dozen such as them."
"That cannot be, I am sure. Mr. Marshall, certainly, did not talk in so ungentlemanly a manner."
"I don't think it was any more than the truth, and I'm sure I hope he did say it," replied Jimmy, warmly.
"You are wrong," said Anne to her little friend. "You must not desire to have any injured, or wounded in their feelings — because they do not treat you well. You know that such desires spring from revenge — and revenge is murder in disguise."
"So you used to tell me; but I didn't think about that," said the boy.
"I hope things go on pretty smoothly with you now, Jimmy?"
"I can't say that they do, Miss Anne," replied the child in a desponding tone. "Yesterday Mr. Hardamer beat me, until I am sore all over. I'd been to market with him, and had the great big market basket, which he piled up almost full. There was half a peck of potatoes, a quarter of veal, and half a peck of apples; besides a good many other things. On top were put a dozen eggs, and then the butter kettle, full of butter, was fitted in one end among the apples. I could hardly get around the market, it was so heavy, and when Mr. Hardamer put it on my head and told me to go home, I thought I would have sunk right down. I'd have said something, but I was afraid. I started up Market Street, and went on as fast as I could. When I got to the first water plug, I felt just as if I was going to fall, and I could hardly see. I asked two or three men to help me down with the basket, but they looked at me and passed on. Just as I thought I would have to give up, a black man lifted the basket off my head, and set it on the grass for me. I stood there for about five minutes, and then got a boy to help me up with it again. It seemed heavier than ever, but I started off with it and kept right up the street. While trying to step down from the curb-stone at Walnut Street, I lost my balance, and fell, in spite of all I could do. Everything in the basket rolled out — butter, eggs and all. The eggs were all broken, and the butter tumbled into the dirt. I put them all back into the basket, except the eggs, and asked a boy, who was the only one that seemed to pity me — every body else laughed — to help me along with the basket. He took hold of one side, and helped me all the way home. We set the basket down in the shop, and Mr. Hardamer saw, at once, that something was wrong.
"'What's the matter, there?' he said in an angry voice, coming from behind the counter.
"'I fell down — it was too heavy for me to carry,' I said, trembling all over.
"'Where's the eggs?' he said more angrily.
"'They're broken, sir,' said I.
"'And here's the butter all covered with dirt!' he said, pulling off the lid of the butter kettle. "'You did it on purpose, you little scoundrel you!'
"And then he dragged me into the back shop, and made me pull off my jacket. O, how he cut me with the stirrup! — cursing me all the while, and saying he'd kill me before he was done with me. It seemed as if he never would quit; and every stroke smarted and ached so, that I thought I couldn't stand it a minute longer. After a while he threw the stirrup down, and drove me off into the cellar, and told me to saw wood there until he sent for me, and said if he heard the saw stop a minute at a time, he'd come down and give me ten times as much of a beating. I went down and sawed wood, until I ached so much, that I thought I would have fallen over, but I was afraid to stop; and so I kept on, wishing I could drop down dead! After a long, long time, Millie came down to call me to dinner. I couldn't hardly eat anything, I felt so sick. But he didn't tell me to go into the cellar again, and I began to feel a little better by night. O, how I wanted to see you! And that night, as I lay in bed, I determined that I would come and see you today."
The tears started from Anne's eyes, and her heart ached for the poor, abused child. And ached the more, because she had no means of softening his hard lot. She did not reply to his painful story, but his eyes read her sympathizing countenance, and he understood how much she felt pity for him.
"But I'll try and bear it, Anne, it won't last forever," said the little fellow, endeavoring to rally. "I'll be a man one of these days — and then no one will beat or abuse me."
"That is right, Jimmy. When we can't help ourselves, it is always best to put a good face upon matters. A change for the better will come sooner or later."
"And right soon will it come for you, Miss Anne, I hope," he said with animation.
"I could not ask for anything better than I now have," she replied.
"But, better will come, I am sure. Ike says he means to go this very night to see Mr. Marshall, and tell him where you are — and then he'll come and marry you; and he's so rich!"
This announcement brought Anne to her feet at once, utterly confounded.
"Run home, quickly!" she said, "and tell Ike, that, if he has the least regard for my feelings, he could not injure them more, than by doing what you say."
"It's no use to go, Anne," said the little boy, "because Ike's gone long ago."
"Maybe not, Jimmy, so run home as fast as you can, and come again tomorrow night."
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