Chapter 10

"We haven't forgotten you," said little Ronald indignantly. "How could I forget when you were so kind to me? I could not have got home that day I sprained my foot, and then your van came up, and you jumped out and carried me in, and bathed my foot, and brought me home. Why--why--" stammered the little fellow in his eagerness, "I should be a _pig_ if I forgot you."

"Step inside, sirs," said the woman, quite confused by Ronald's gratitude; "I want you to see how beautiful the clock looks that your mamma gave me. It goes just splendid; my old man _is_ proud of it; it never loses a minute, and yet it gets many a jolt."

The children needed no second invitation. The van was a paradise to them, and they ran up the steps and looked at everything, and everything seemed charming. They longed to possess such a treasure, and thought the tinker and his wife must be the happiest of mortals.

"I should like to live here always," said Fred, as he and Ronald stood at the door of the van and looked out at the scene around them. "It's so jolly free," continued the boy, "so far better than always being in one house; and the cat there, and the cocks and hens, and old Dobbin--I'd much rather look at things like that than at the maps and pictures on our schoolroom walls."

"Ah! but you don't know all, sir," said the woman, shaking her head. "I was born in a van, and have always lived in one, but I don't want my little laddie here to lead the life," and she danced the crowing baby in her arms as she spoke. "I hope, by and by, we shall have a little cottage of our own and settle down, and my boy can go to school and learn to read his Bible, which is more than his mother can do, for I never had a day's schooling in my life."

"Can't you read?" said little Ronald in astonishment. "I'll come every day that you stay here and teach you. I'll begin to-night!" and before another word could be said he had darted out of the van and was up the street and out of sight, returning in a very few minutes with a large picture-book, out of which he himself had learned to read.

Ronald was a wise little fellow to have brought a picture-book; for such a work of art had never been seen by the woman before, and if reading was only looking at pictures like that she felt she might manage it after all.

She was by no means a stupid scholar, and Ronald was so earnest a little teacher that the progress made was really astonishing. The tinker found a good many jobs in the village, and stayed nearly a fortnight, and by that time Susan could spell little words very nicely, and no longer read a-s-s, donkey, as, misled by the picture, she had done at the beginning of the lessons.

Ronald's mother gave the woman a large print Bible with a great many pictures in it; and when next year the tinker's van again visited the village, Susan was delighted to be able to exhibit her progress, and slowly and reverently she read the parable of the Lost Sheep.

"I read that to my old man most nights," she said; "his father was a shepherd, and he knows all about sheep. Oh, Master Ronald!" said the woman, suddenly changing her tone, "I do bless you for putting it into my head to learn to read."

Certainly Ronald was a happy boy that day.

A LITTLE MAN.

Bobby was not quite six years old, but he thought himself quite a man, and a very strong man too. He was a sturdy little fellow, and as he never caught cold, his mother allowed him to run about without shoes and stockings when the weather was warm and dry.

Bobby's mother was always a little afraid of his being hurt. She had only two children--Lucy, who was twelve, and Bobby--and she was sometimes very anxious lest Bobby should come to some harm when he would work among the men. She also forbade him the use of knives and all sharp instruments. This was a real grief to Bobby, as the men knew it, and would sometimes tease him, and it was then so difficult to pretend to himself that his knife wasn't in his pocket, as he could have done for his own satisfaction.

One day in the spring, when the laurel hedge was being cut, one of the men offered to lend Bobby a knife, and, without a thought of his mother's wishes, Bobby took it, and began cutting in a great hurry. Alas! after a few boughs had come off, Bobby tried to cut a thicker one, which he had to hold down with his left hand, so that when the knife slipped he cut his third finger rather badly. He ran at once to Lucy with the knife in his hand, and then dropped it on the ground close to his bare toes. In his thoughtlessness he might have cut his foot also if Mother had not come out and picked up the knife. She was more sorry than angry at Bobby's disobedience, but the boy was more careful to obey his mother after that, and among the presents on his next birthday there was a capital knife from Mother, but given on condition that at first it should only be used when his father was present, and could show him what ought to be done with it. Bobby is a very happy boy now, because no one can tease him, as he has that precious knife of his very own.

BED TIME.

I

I've been so happy all the day, And now its hours are over, Down by the meadows I have played, And all amongst the clover. And now tis time to go to rest, Within my bed so cosy. And soundly sleep the long night thro; Until the sun gleams rosy

II

Good night, dear little silver stars, Come to my window peeping, And shed your pretty light above, And watch whilst I am sleeping. Good night, Good night you pretty flowers, I love you all so dearly, Now close your eyes, and gently sleep, Until the moon shines clearly.

III

I've said my prayers at Mother's knee, To ask the Shepherd's keeping, He has so many little lambs, To tend whilst they are sleeping Yet surely I may go to rest, Without a fear or sorrow, I know that he will watch o'er all, Till sunlight gleams to-morrow.

M. I. Hurrell.

Transcriber's Notes:

1. Nonstandard punctuation and spelling variants in poetry blocks have been retained. 2. Full-page illustrated poetry or images that interrupted a story have been relocated to the inter-story break. 3. Decorative illustrations without captions were not placed in the text-only version of the e-text. 4. The poem "Winter" in this book is reproduced here as printed and differs from the original.