The Little School-Mothers. Meade L. T.

so loud. I didn’t want to, but you did speak very loud. Why do you say those horrid things about her?”

      “They are true,” said Harriet. “I don’t mean to be unkind to her. I wouldn’t be unkind to anybody, but, at the same time, I want to warn you in case you are taken in by her ways and choose her as your school-mother.”

      Ralph was quite silent. After a minute he said in an altered voice:

      “Let’s do something now – what shall we?”

      Harriet suggested that they should visit the farmyard at the back of the house and coax Jim, the groom, to let them ride on some of the horses. This, of course, was most fascinating, and no sooner had it been thought of than it was done. The ride was followed by something still more exciting. Jim was going to drive to the nearest town with the spring cart, and he offered to take the two children with him.

      Harriet no sooner heard this proposal than she accepted it, and she and Ralph had a glorious drive to town. There she spent sixpence – all the money she possessed – on different sweetmeats.

      “I wish I had some more,” she said. “I’d give you all my money – I would, indeed!”

      “There are quite enough sweeties there,” said Ralph; “but if you really want to buy other things, Harriet, I have got money.”

      “Have you? Let’s see what you’ve got,” said Harriet.

      Ralph put his hand into his breeches pocket, and took out a handful of coppers, a shilling, and two sixpences.

      “Here’s lots,” he said. “Isn’t it lots, Harriet?”

      “Yes,” said Harriet, looking at it greedily. “We might buy a picnic tea for ourselves out of that.”

      “Oh! might we?” said Ralph. “How per-fect-ly bee-tttiful!”

      The picnic tea was purchased; it was not wholesome. The children went back. Ralph and Harriet had their dinner all alone, for during the trial day the arrangement was that the rest of the school children were not to interfere. Afterwards, they had their picnic tea out of doors, and after that was over, Harriet again spoke of the gipsies, and the delight of knowing them, and the certain fact that they would give them tea, or, perhaps, dinner, in the wonderful house on wheels, and the still more certain fact that Ralph would not be a true boy until he had visited the gipsies with Harriet.

      On the whole, Harriet considered that her trial day was a success. It was an untidy, flushed, and not a healthy little boy who crept rather late into bed that night, and whom Harriet undressed without troubling herself whether he was washed too carefully or his hair brushed or not. Even to his cry that he had just a weeny, teeny pain, and that he did not feel quite quite well, she made no response. But when she was bidding him good-night, she said: —

      “Remember the gipsies, and I am the sort of girl who always keeps her word.”

      “Good-night, dear, dear Harriet!” said the little fellow. “I have had quite a lovely day!”

      After Harriet went away, it was some time before Ralph fell asleep. Of course, he was a manly boy, and he did not mind a bit being alone, and it was nice, very nice, to have a little room all to himself. But, notwithstanding his bravery, and his fixed determination not to be lonely without Father, and never to cry even the smallest tear, there was an ache in his heart. He kept on thinking so much of his school-mother that he could not sleep. The girls in the school were very nice. Rose had been sweet to him, so had Frederica, so had Patience, and his school-mother of the past day – oh, she had been the most exciting of all. She was not a bit a pretty girl – in his heart of hearts he thought her rather ugly; but she had done things none of the others had done. She had given him adventures – that breakfast out of doors, a box of matches to keep in his own pocket; that ride on Firefly’s back – Firefly was a very spirited pony – and the girl had looked on admiringly while Ralph kept his seat; and then the drive to town, and the spending of all Harriet’s money on sweetmeats and of all Ralph’s money on a picnic tea. Oh, yes; he had had a good day, very good, and there had been no lessons.

      Ralph could not honestly say that he loved lessons. He used to pretend he did, for he hated to grumble about things, and manly boys learned things – at least, so his father used to say. Manly boys always knew how to read, and they spelt words properly, and they wrote neat, good hands, and they learned, too, how to add up long, terrible rows of figures. All these things were necessary if a boy was to be manly and wise. Ralph knew perfectly well that he must go through with these unpleasant things. Nevertheless, he had to own that he did not like them. This school-mother, if he were to select her, would not be very particular about his reading aloud, and spelling properly, and working at his sums. Oh, no, he would have a good time with her; matches in his pocket, knives to play with – although his father did not like him to have knives – and, above all things, such a wonderful, glorious hope was held out to him! They would go away together, he and his school-mother, to see the gipsies. They would climb up the steps into that house on wheels; and, perhaps – perhaps – it would move, and they would feel it moving, and the brown babies would roll about on the grass at his feet, and the brown men and women would talk to him.

      Harriet had spoken much to him about the delights of gipsy life. Ralph felt that he would give a great deal to taste it for himself. He tossed from side to side of his little bed, and presently he sat up, his cheeks flushed, his hair tumbled. “What would Father say to all this? Father liked boys to do lessons, and to lead orderly lives, and – ”

      “Oh, Father!” sobbed the child. He could not help crying just a little bit. He wanted his father more than anything in all the world just then; yes, although his heart was full of Harriet and her proposal to visit the gipsies.

      Book One – Chapter Seven

      The Choice

      The three remaining days of trial of the school-mothers went quickly by. There was suppressed excitement all over the third form. Harriet alone would not be induced to talk on the subject. She put on quite a good little air.

      “No,” she said, “don’t let’s worry over the thing. Ralph will make his own choice. He is quite a nice little boy. He has a great deal of go in him, but he will make his own choice, whatever we say.”

      Then Harriet would bend over her book, and pretend to be very industrious; while all the time she was watching Robina.

      Robina had the wonderful faculty of jumping at conclusions. She caught at the sense of a thing in a flash. She had also an amazing memory. It was not the least trouble to Robina to learn a long poem by heart. She also remembered every single word told her by her teachers. She had never before been taught in the manner she was taught at school; but already she was amassing knowledge in a marvellous way. Notwithstanding all Harriet’s efforts, Robina, without the slightest trouble, kept at the head of the class. Every day Harriet tried to supplant her, or, rather, to get back her old position, but every single day she tried in vain. Robina kept her place in class, and the other girls now openly said to Harriet that she had not a chance.

      “You have met your master,” they said, “and you may as well accept the position at once.”

      It was by no means in Harriet’s nature to accept any such position, and her lanky little figure and pale face seemed to bristle all over with suppressed passion when she was addressed in this way.

      On the night before Ralph was to make his decision with regard to the school-mothers, Harriet said a word to Jane.

      “By this time to-morrow,” said Harriet, “we shall know everything.”

      “Oh, yes; I suppose so,” said Jane. Then she added quickly: “I wish he had not come to the school.”

      “Who do you mean by that?” asked Harriet.

      “Ralph – I wish he had not come.”

      “It can’t make any matter to you,” said Harriet.

      “It does,” said Jane. “He is a nice little boy. I like him just awfully. He won’t be happy with you.”

      “What do you mean by that?”