her somehow, and he said tauntingly, “You are used to poking your
hands into every thing, so that isn’t fair. Now go and bump your
head real hard against the barn, and see if you don’t howl then.”
“Don’t do it,” said Nat, who hated cruelty.
But Nan was off, and running straight at the barn, she gave her
head a blow that knocked her flat, and sounded like a
battering-ram. Dizzy, but undaunted, she staggered up, saying
stoutly, though her face was drawn with pain,
“That hurt, but I don’t cry.”
“Do it again,” said Stuffy angrily; and Nan would have done it, but
Nat held her; and Tommy, forgetting the heat, flew at Stuffy like a
little game-cock, roaring out,
“Stop it, or I’ll throw you over the barn!” and so shook and hustled
poor Stuffy that for a minute he did not know whether he was on
his head or his heels.
“She told me to,” was all he could say, when Tommy let him
alone.
“Never mind if she did; it is awfully mean to hurt a little girl,” said
Demi, reproachfully.
“Ho! I don’t mind; I ain’t a little girl, I’m older than you and Daisy;
so now,” cried Nan, ungratefully.
“Don’t preach, Deacon, you bully Posy every day of your life,”
called out the Commodore, who just then hove in sight.
“I don’t hurt her; do I, Daisy?” and Demi turned to his sister, who
was “pooring” Nan’s tingling hands, and recommending water for
the purple lump rapidly developing itself on her forehead.
“You are the best boy in the world,” promptly answered Daisy;
adding, as truth compelled her to do, “You hurt me sometimes, but
you don’t mean to.”
“Put away the bats and things, and mind what you are about, my
hearties. No fighting allowed aboard this ship,” said Emil, who
rather lorded it over the others.
“How do you do, Madge Wildfire?” said Mr. Bhaer, as Nan came
in with the rest to supper. “Give the right hand, little daughter, and
mind thy manners,” he added, as Nan offered him her left.
“The other hurts me.”
“The poor little hand! what has it been doing to get those blisters?”
he asked, drawing it from behind her back, where she had put it
with a look which made him think she had been in mischief.
Before Nan could think of any excuse, Daisy burst out with the
whole story, during which Stuffy tried to hide his face in a bowl of
bread and milk. When the tale was finished, Mr. Bhaer looked
down the long table towards his wife, and said with a laugh in his
eyes,
“This rather belongs to your side of the house, so I won’t meddle
with it, my dear.”
Mrs. Jo knew what he meant, but she liked her little black sheep
all the better for her pluck, though she only said in her soberest
way,
“Do you know why I asked Nan to come here?”
“To plague me,” muttered Stuffy, with his mouth full.
“To help make little gentlemen of you, and I think you have shown
that some of you need it.”
Here Stuffy retired into his bowl again, and did not emerge till
Demi made them all laugh by saying, in his slow wondering way,
“How can she, when she’s such a tomboy?”
“That’s just it, she needs help as much as you, and I expect you set
her an example of good manners.”
“Is she going to be a little gentleman too?” asked Rob.
“She’d like it; wouldn’t you, Nan?” added Tommy.
“No, I shouldn’t; I hate boys!” said Nan fiercely, for her hand still
smarted, and she began to think that she might have shown her
courage in some wiser way.
“I am sorry you hate my boys, because they can be well-mannered,
and most agreeable when they choose. Kindness in looks and
words and ways is true politeness, and any one can have it if they
only try to treat other people as they like to be treated themselves.”
Mrs. Bhaer had addressed herself to Nan, but the boys nudged one
another, and appeared to take the hint, for that time at least, and