Read Mildred's New Daughter Page 11


  CHAPTER XI.

  At length a change came suddenly to the little orphans. One unfortunateday Mr. Coote was in an unusually bad humor, and under a very slightprovocation from Harry, who was more inclined for play than study, theweather being warm and fields and garden seeming far more inviting thanbooks, he flew at the child in a rage and gave him a most unmercifulbeating; making it all the more severe because the little fellowscreamed so loudly that more than one neighbor came running to enquirewhat was wrong with the child, supposing some dreadful accident hadbefallen him, and Ethel, Blanche, and Nannette, lingering in the hallwithout, wept and sobbed as if their hearts would break.

  "Stop beating that little fellow! stop this instant, you inhuman wretch,or I'll go for a policeman and have you arrested for cruelty tochildren," exclaimed a very decent looking woman, the wife of the grocerat the next corner, rushing up to the window of the room where thebeating was going on.

  "You mind your own business," retorted Coote, letting go the child andpushing him angrily away from him. "He's had no more than he deserves;no, nor half so much, the idle, good-for-nothing little rascal."

  "I only wish I had the strength to give you your deserts," returned thewoman in indignant tones. "I wouldn't hesitate for a minute, and you'dfind yourself good for nothing but bed for at least a week. The idea ofsuch a wretch as you calling himself a Christian! You're worse than aheathen; and I declare I will have you arrested if you dare to strikethat child again."

  Coote tossed his whip into a corner and glared at the woman, while poorlittle Harry slunk away out the room, moving as if he had scarcelystrength to walk.

  His sisters instantly gathered about him, crying bitterly. Ethel caughthim in her arms and held him close, sobbing out her grief and pity.

  "O Harry, Harry, dear little brother, I am so, so, _so_ sorry for you!"

  "I, too," sobbed Blanche. "Oh, I wish our uncles would take us away andput us with somebody that would be kind and good to us."

  "So do I," chimed in Nannette, tears rolling down her cheeks. "Oh, Iwish, we could live with Mrs. Keith and little Mary; if only they wantedmore children over there."

  "Oh, hush, hush, Nan," said Ethel warningly; for Mrs. Coote was comingtoward them, having just seen the last of the enquiring neighbors out ofthe gate, dismissing them with a promise that she would see to thewelfare of the children and not permit them to be abused.

  "You needn't be afraid," she said to Ethel. "I've no intention of addingto Harry's punishment, for I think he has already had quite enough. Iwill help him upstairs, and the rest of you had best come along."

  Taking the child's hand she led him a little way, but finding he washardly able to stand or move, she lifted him in her arms and carried himup the stairs to the children's room, the others following. Laying himon his bed she went from the room, to return almost immediately with abasin of warm water and some soothing ointment, with which she proceededto make the poor little fellow as comfortable as possible, undressinghim and laying him in his little bed again, handling him almost astenderly as though he had been her own, though she said very little,leaving the children in some doubt whether she did or did not approve ofher husband's barbarous treatment.

  "I'm going down now," she said when she had finished. "You needn't haveany more lessons to-day, any of you. I think it would be as well for yougirls to stay here with Harry. You may play, sleep, or do whatever youplease so that you don't get into mischief or make a racket that can beheard down in the study."

  "Yes, ma'am, thank you," returned Ethel, "we'll be quiet as mice and asgood as we know how."

  Mrs. Coote had hardly gone when the little boy raised himself in the bedand looking with tearful eyes at his sisters grouped together besidehim:

  "I'll be a man some o' these days," he sobbed, "and then if I don't takethat old rascal down and beat him harder'n he beat me to-day--it--it'll bequeer. Yes, I'll just thrash him till he can't move, so I will."

  "I couldn't feel sorry for him, I couldn't," sobbed Ethel, "but, OHarry, dear, we must try to forgive him; because the Bible says,'Forgive your enemies. Forgive and ye shall be forgiven.' And we allneed to have forgiveness from God. So we will ask our Heavenly Father tohelp us to forgive this cruel, cruel man, and to help us to get awayfrom him so that he can't ever hurt us any more."

  "Yes," said Harry, "after he's had one good, sound thrashing from me. Ijust ache to give it to him, and I will, just as soon as I'm bigenough."

  "Maybe God will punish him before that," sobbed Blanche. "I'm sure Ihope so."

  "Me too," said Nannette, wiping her tearful eyes. "I'll ask God topunish the naughty man every time I say my prayers."

  "Oh, no," said Ethel persuasively; "instead of that let's all ask Him totake us away from here and put us in a good home where we'll never seethese cruel people any more."

  While this talk was going on among the children Mrs. Coote had gone downto the study, where she found her husband striding angrily to and fro.He glanced at his wife as she came in and read scorn and contempt in thelook she gave him.

  "So you, I see, are ready to uphold that young rascal in his wrongdoing;and the meddlesome neighbors who come interfering here, as well," hesaid wrathfully.

  "The neighbors were perfectly right," she answered in an icy tone, "andI'm not at all sure they haven't saved you from murder and the hangman'srope. That's what your awful temper will bring you to some of thesedays, if you don't learn to exercise some self-control."

  She paused for an instant, then went on in a tone of sterndetermination: "And I warn you to beware how you lay a hand on one ofthose orphan children again; for as sure as you do I'll let the unclesknow all about this thing, and they'll be promptly taken away out ofyour reach, inhuman brute that you are."

  "Take care how you talk, woman," he said menacingly, though his cheekpaled at her threat. "I'm the stronger of the two, and you may live toregret it."

  "The stronger, but by far the more cowardly," she returned with adisagreeable laugh. "I'm not afraid o' you, Patrick Coote; you're toowell aware of my worth to you to try doing me any deadly harm."

  "Deadly harm?" he repeated, "who talks of deadly harm? 'Twas you thatsaid it, not I. But I'll have you, as well as those unruly youngsters,to know who's master in this house."

  So saying he took up his hat and walked out through the front yard anddown the street, Mrs. Coote standing at the window and sending after hima glance of mingled contempt and disdain.

  "I haven't wasted any fondling on those children," she said to herself,"but I'd sooner take a beating myself than give that bit of a boy such athrashing for next to nothing, and I'll see that it isn't done again."

  Mr. Coote stalked on down the street in by no means a happy frame ofmind, everybody he met seeming to him to regard him with contempt andaversion; for the whole neighborhood was roused by the story of hisabuse of the little orphan boy unfortunately committed to his care--astory quickly circulated by those who had heard Harry's screams andrushed to the house to discover the cause and aid the sufferer.

  One of his own parishioners, meeting, accosted him:

  "See here, sir, you'd best be careful how you abuse those little orphansin your care, for we Americans don't approve of any such doings andyou'll get yourself into trouble, you may depend on it."

  With a muttered, "You will please attend to your own affairs and leaveme to attend to mine," Coote pushed past the speaker and stalked on hisway.

  Harry's screams had been heard at Mr. Keith's, and the grocer's wife hadstopped at their gate on her way home to tell the story of the brutaltreatment the poor child had received. The two ladies shed tears over itand longed to go to the rescue of the poor little ones, yet refrainedfor the present, and took time to consider what would be the best planto adopt for their relief. They talked the matter over together, andfinally decided that the uncles must be informed of the true state ofaffairs, when doubtless they would take steps to secure the childrenfrom a repetition of such cruel treatment.

 
"Ethel writes a very neat hand," remarked Mrs. Keith. "I wonder she hasnot complained to them long before this."

  "Doubtless her letters, if she has written any, have all passed throughthe hands of Mr. or Mrs. Coote and been suppressed if she ventured anycomplaint of their treatment," returned Mrs. Weston.

  "Yes, I dare say that is so," said Mrs. Keith. "Well, the very next timeEthel comes over here I shall ask her if she would like to write to anyof her relatives and knows their address, offering her writing materialsand postage stamp and promising to mail the letter for her."

  "A very good plan if she knows the address, which I doubt," returnedMrs. Weston.

  They did not know it, but Ethel in her room watching beside Harry, whohad sobbed himself to sleep, was considering the same question, namely,how she could let her uncles know how badly she and her little brotherand sisters were being treated. She had been ignorant of the addressuntil the day before, when Mrs. Coote had bidden her carry out thescrap-basket from the study and empty it into the coal scuttle in thekitchen, and in doing so she had seen and secured an envelope bearingthe address of the firm of Eldon Brothers. It could do no harm to takeit, she thought, as otherwise it would only be burned up; and having anill-defined feeling that some day it might prove of service to her, shehad hastily put it in her pocket. It was there still, and now taking itout she gazed at it with her tear-dimmed eyes, trying to think how shecould get writing materials and postage stamp, make use of them, andpost her letter, when written, without the knowledge of Mr. or Mrs.Coote, who, if they knew, would be sure to prevent her from sending it.

  "I will ask God to help me," she said to herself, and at once droppingon her knees sent up a silent but most fervid prayer that a way might beopened for the accomplishment of her wish.