CHAPTER VIII.
Mrs. Weston had hardly finished what she was saying to Ethel when Mrs.Coote's harsh voice was heard summoning her young charges to theirdinner. They hastened to obey, quite as much for fear that any delaywould anger the woman and bring dire consequences upon themselves, asfrom a desire to satisfy their appetites.
The meal, like those that had preceded it, was plain but palatable, andthe healthy little folks found it enjoyable.
"Now go out to your plays again," was Mrs. Coote's order when they hadfinished; "this is Saturday and I'm very busy, a great deal too busy tobe tormented with a pack of children; so don't venture to come in againtill you're called."
"Let's go back to that other house," proposed Harry, when they hadobeyed the order and were out upon the gravel walk leading to the frontgate.
"Oh, no!" said Ethel, "don't you remember that our mamma used to tell usnot to go too often to any of our neighbors' houses, because we wouldmake them tired of us? There was a Bible text she used to repeat aboutit: 'Withdraw thy foot from thy neighbor's house lest he be weary ofthee, and so hate thee.' We want them to love us and feel glad to see uswhen we go there; so we won't go very often when we're not invited. Thegrass is dry now on this side of the yard and we can have a nice timeplaying here together."
"Oh, yes," said Blanche, "we can play 'Pussy wants a corner.' That'sgood fun and we'll be careful not to run too hard and do mischief."
"And not to make too much noise," added Ethel; "we mustn't shout orlaugh too loud, lest we vex Mrs. Coote."
"Oh, dear!" sighed Harry, "I do like to make a noise. I guess all boysdo, and I do wish we didn't have to live where the folks want us to bequiet all the time."
"But we can't help it, Harry," sighed Ethel, "we will just have to tryto be quiet and good all the time."
"Me will," assented Nannette; "I is doin' to be very dood."
"So'll I," said Harry, "but I don't like it a single bit."
They played several games; then Nannette began to cry. She was tired andsleepy. Mrs. Coote heard her, came to the door, and understanding whatwas the matter, bade Ethel take her little sister up to their own roomand lay her on the bed.
"And when she wakes up," added Mrs. Coote, "it will be time for you allto have your Saturday bath; for everybody must be particularly clean forSunday."
"Yes, ma'am," returned Ethel, "our own mamma always had us bathed onSaturday."
"In which she showed her sense," said Mrs. Coote. "Now hurry up to yourroom every one of you, and see if you can keep quiet there. You may aswell all take a nap, for you have nothing better to do."
"There, there, don't cry, Nan dear; we'll soon get up to the top ofthese stairs and into our room," Ethel said in soothing tones, doing herutmost to help her baby sister in the weary task of climbing the rathersteep flight of stairs that led to that desired haven.
"I so tired," sobbed Nan.
"Yes, dear; and these stairs are high for your poor little legs. Butnever mind; we're most up now. Ah, here we are, and you shall lie downand have oh! such a good sleep, with Blanche on one side and me on theother and Harry on his own bed over there in the corner."
Nothing loth, the baby girl cuddled down on the bed; the others climbedinto their places, and tired with their play the whole four werepresently sleeping soundly.
The nap was followed by the promised bath, that by their supper, anddirectly upon leaving the table they were sent to bed.
They were taken to Sunday-school the next morning, then brought back tothe house and ordered to stay within doors until the return of Mr. andMrs. Coote from church, the latter remarking that she had no intentionof being bothered with other people's children, and directing Ethel toteach some Bible texts to the younger ones and commit to memory severalverses herself, all to be recited to Mr. Coote in the afternoon.
Ethel felt dismayed, for it would be a new thing for Harry andespecially so for baby Nan, of whom nothing in the form of lessons hadever yet been required.
"I'll try, ma'am," she said, "but please don't be hard with them if theycan't say a verse perfectly, for they've never had to learn lessonsbefore, except to say their A B Cs."
"High time for them to begin then," was the curt rejoinder. "Now mindwhat I say and do exactly as you're told, or you'll wish you had whenMr. Coote gets hold of you." With that she walked away, Ethel lookingafter her with frightened eyes.
"O Blanche, whatever shall we do?" she exclaimed tearfully. "I'm afraidNan can't learn a verse."
"Oh, yes, Ethel, she can; so don't you cry," returned Blanche, puttingher arms round Ethel's neck and giving her a kiss. "Don't you rememberthat little one that's just two words? 'Jesus wept.' Nan can learn thatI'm sure; so can Harry."
"Course I can," said Harry, straightening himself proudly. "I'm not ababy, I know that verse now: 'Jesus wept.' But, say, why did He do that,Ethel? what was He so sorry about?"
"Because Lazarus, the man He loved, was dead and his sisters, Mary andMartha, were so full of grief. He loved them, too, and was sorry forthem."
"Tell us the story 'bout it, Ethel," requested the little fellow.
Ethel complied, and then he and Nan repeated over and over the shortverse, "Jesus wept."
"Now we must learn ours, Blanche," said Ethel.
"I've thought of one that mamma used to teach us," returned Blanche: "'Ilove them that love me; and those that seek me early shall find me.'"
"Yes, I remember that mamma taught us that, and that she said they wereGod's own words. Let's all love Him and He will love us and care for useven if nobody in all this world does. I've thought of a verse too:'Suffer the little children to come unto me, and forbid them not; for ofsuch is the kingdom of heaven.' Mamma said they were Jesus' own wordsand they meant that I might pray to Him, telling Him all my joys and allmy troubles, and He would listen even more lovingly than she did when Itold them to her, and would give me strength to bear them or help me outof them. Oh, I have often been so glad, since dear mamma and papa wentaway to heaven, so glad to know that; and I have told my troubles toJesus and I'm sure He has heard me and helped me to bear them, and thatHe will help me, and everybody that tries it, to bear every trouble andtrial He sends."
"But what for does He send troubles and trials?" asked Blanche. "Ishould think if He loves us so much He wouldn't let us have any at all."
"I remember I asked mamma that once," replied Ethel thoughtfully, "andshe said it was to make us good and to keep us from loving this worldtoo well; just as she sometimes punished us to make us good, because tobe good is the only way to be happy; and she taught me this verse, 'Asmany as I love I rebuke and chasten; be zealous therefore and repent.'Oh," added the little girl, with a burst of tears, "if we only had mammanow to help us to be good!"
"She and papa have gone to be with God, you know, Ethel, and don't youbelieve they ask Him to help us to be good?" asked Blanche, tearsshining in her eyes also.
"Yes, yes, indeed!" returned Ethel, "and it makes me so glad to think ofthat."
"O Ethel, you have to say more than one verse, haven't you?" askedBlanche.
"Oh, yes, so I have. 'Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ and thou shalt besaved,' is another one that mamma taught me. I'll say it. Such a sweetverse, isn't it?"
"Yes, indeed," returned Blanche.
"Saved from what, Ethel?" asked Harry. "I don't want to live here withthese horrid folks. I wish He'd saved us from that."
"But it would be a great deal worse to live in that dreadful place wherethe devil and his angels are," said Ethel with grave earnestness; "andthat's what mamma said Jesus would save us from; that and the love ofsin. Oh, now I remember some verses she taught me about heaven: 'And Godshall wipe away all tears from their eyes; and there shall be no moredeath, neither sorrow, nor crying, neither shall there be any more pain;for the former things are passed away.' Oh, just think, children! nevera headache, or backache, or heartache, or hurt feelings, or any sort ofpain or ache, but always to feel bright and happy and well. And that'swhe
re papa and mamma are--well and glad all the time."
"O Ethel, how delightful!" exclaimed Blanche. "And then oughtn't we tobe glad for them?"
"Yes, indeed! though we can't help being sorry for ourselves and eachother, because we must do without them till we get there too."
Jane, the servant girl, opened the door and looked in at that moment."Come, you young uns, and eat your dinners," she said. "You's to eatfust this time 'fore de folks gits home from church."
The children obeyed right willingly, but were disappointed to find onlythe usual plain fare.
"I 'spected a nice dinner to-day," grumbled Harry; "chicken or birds,and mashed potatoes and cranberries and good pie and cake."
"O Harry, dear, hush, hush!" Ethel said warningly, but half under herbreath. "I'm afraid you'll get beaten or starved if--if they should findout that you talked so."
"Oh, it's too hard!" sighed Blanche. "I didn't want to stay with thathateful, cross old Aunt Sarah though."
"I didn't either," said Harry. "But 'most everybody's bad to us sincepapa and mamma went away."
Here Jane, who had gone back to her kitchen, poked in her head at thecommunicating door. "You'd better stop talkin' and get you dinners eatup 'fore the folks gits home from chu'ch; 'cause ef ye don't maybeyou'll have to stop hungry."
The thought of that alarming possibility at once silenced everycomplaint, and hardly another word was spoken till their appetites werefully satisfied. A hasty washing of hands and faces followed and wasscarcely over when the Cootes returned, and the little folks weresummoned to the study and required to recite their verses of Scriptureto the frowning, loud-voiced, impatient dominie, while the dinner forhim and his wife was being set upon the table. It seemed a dreadfulordeal to the trembling little ones, and a great relief when it was overand they were ordered up to their own room for the remainder of the day.