Demi told the sweet and solemn story as it had been taught him,
speaking softly as he sat with his beautiful eyes fixed on the tender
face above them, her own filled with tears, and she went silently
away, thinking to herself,
“Demi is unconsciously helping the poor boy better than I can; I
will not spoil it by a single word.”
The murmur of the childish voice went on for a long time, as one
innocent heart preached that great sermon to another, and no one
hushed it. When it ceased at last, and Mrs. Bhaer went to take
away the lamp, Demi was gone and Nat fast asleep, lying with his
face toward the picture, as if he had already learned to love the
Good Man who loved little children, and was a faithful friend to
the poor. The boy’s face was very placid, and as she looked at it
she felt that if a single day of care and kindness had done so much,
a year of patient cultivation would surely bring a grateful harvest
from this neglected garden, which was already sown with the best
of all seed by the little missionary in the night-gown.
CHAPTER IV STEPPING-STONES
When Nat went into school on Monday morning, he quaked
inwardly, for now he thought he should have to display his
ignorance before them all. But Mr. Bhaer gave him a seat in the
deep window, where he could turn his back on the others, and
Franz heard him say his lessons there, so no one could hear his
blunders or see how he blotted his copybook. He was truly grateful
for this, and toiled away so diligently that Mr. Bhaer said, smiling,
when he saw his hot face and inky fingers:
“Don’t work so hard, my boy; you will tire yourself out, and there
is time enough.”
“But I must work hard, or I can’t catch up with the others. They
know heaps, and I don’t know anything,” said Nat, who had been
reduced to a state of despair by hearing the boys recite their
grammar, history, and geography with what he thought amazing
ease and accuracy.
“You know a good many things which they don’t,” said Mr. Bhaer,
sitting down beside him, while Franz led a class of small students
through the intricacies of the multiplication table.
“Do I?” and Nat looked utterly incredulous.
“Yes; for one thing, you can keep your temper, and Jack, who is
quick at numbers, cannot; that is an excellent lesson, and I think
you have learned it well. Then, you can play the violin, and not
one of the lads can, though they want to do it very much. But, best
of all, Nat, you really care to learn something, and that is half the
battle. It seems hard at first, and you will feel discouraged, but
plod away, and things will get easier and easier as you go on.”
Nat’s face had brightened more and more as he listened, for, small
as the list of his learning was, it cheered him immensely to feel
that he had anything to fall back upon. “Yes, I can keep my temper
father’s beating taught me that; and I can fiddle, though I don’t
know where the Bay of Biscay is,” he thought, with a sense of
comfort impossible to express. Then he said aloud, and so
earnestly that Demi heard him:
“I do want to learn, and I will try. I never went to school, but I
couldn’t help it; and if the fellows don’t laugh at me, I guess I’ll get
on first rate you and the lady are so good to me.”
“They shan’t laugh at you; if they do, I’ll I’ll tell them not to,” cried
Demi, quite forgetting where he was.
The class stopped in the middle of 7 times 9, and everyone looked
up to see what was going on.
Thinking that a lesson in learning to help one another was better
than arithmetic just then, Mr. Bhaer told them about Nat, making
such an interesting and touching little story out of it that the
good-hearted lads all promised to lend him a hand, and felt quite
honored to be called upon to impart their stores of wisdom to the