library for the special purpose.”
“Is that a useful sort of book, Dan?” asked Mr. Laurie, pointing to
the volume that lay open by the cabinet.
“Oh, yes! it tells all I want to know about insects. I had it here to
see how to fix the butterflies right. I covered it, so it is not hurt;”
and Dan caught it up, fearing the lender might think him careless.
“Give it here a minute;” and, pulling out his pencil, Mr. Laurie
wrote Dan’s name in it, saying, as he set the book up on one of the
corner shelves, where nothing stood but a stuffed bird without a
tail, “There, that is the beginning of the museum library. I’ll hunt
up some more books, and Demi shall keep them in order. Where
are those jolly little books we used to read, Jo? ‘Insect Architecture’
or some such name, all about ants having battles, and bees having
queens, and crickets eating holes in our clothes and stealing milk,
and larks of that sort.”
“In the garret at home. I’ll have them sent out, and we will plunge
into Natural History with a will,” said Mrs. Jo, ready for any thing.
“Won’t it be hard to write about such things?” asked Nat, who
hated compositions.
“At first, perhaps; but you will soon like it. If you think that hard,
how would you like to have this subject given to you, as it was to a
girl of thirteen: A conversation between Themistocles, Aristides,
and Pericles on the proposed appropriation of funds of the
confederacy of Delos for the ornamentation of Athens?” said Mrs.
Jo.
The boys groaned at the mere sound of the long names, and the
gentlemen laughed at the absurdity of the lesson.
“Did she write it?” asked Demi, in an awe-stricken tone.
“Yes, but you can imagine what a piece of work she make of it,
though she was rather a bright child.”
“I’d like to have seen it,” said Mr. Bhaer.
“Perhaps I can find it for you; I went to school with her,” and Mrs.
Jo looked so wicked that every one knew who the little girl was.
Hearing of this fearful subject for a composition quite reconciled
the boys to the thought of writing about familiar things.
Wednesday afternoon was appointed for the lectures, as they
preferred to call them, for some chose to talk instead of write. Mr.
Bhaer promised a portfolio in which the written productions
should be kept, and Mrs. Bhaer said she would attend the course
with great pleasure.
Then the dirty-handed society went off the wash, followed by the
Professor, trying to calm the anxiety of Rob, who had been told by
Tommy that all water was full of invisible pollywogs.
“I like your plan very much, only don’t be too generous, Teddy,”
said Mrs. Bhaer, when they were left alone. “You know most of
the boys have got to paddle their own canoes when they leave us,
and too much sitting in the lap of luxury will unfit them for it.”
“I’ll be moderate, but do let me amuse myself. I get desperately
tired of business sometimes, and nothing freshens me up like a
good frolic with your boys. I like that Dan very much, Jo. He isn’t
demonstrative; but he has the eye of a hawk, and when you have
tamed him a little he will do you credit.”
“I’m so glad you think so. Thank you very much for your kindness
to him, especially for this museum affair; it will keep him happy
while he is lame, give me a chance to soften and smooth this poor,
rough lad, and make him love us. What did inspire you with such a
beautiful, helpful idea, Teddy?” asked Mrs. Bhaer, glancing back
at the pleasant room, as she turned to leave it.
Laurie took both her hands in his, and answered, with a look that
made her eyes fill with happy tears,
“Dear Jo! I have known what it is to be a motherless boy, and I
never can forget how much you and yours have done for me all
these years.”
CHAPTER XII HUCKLEBERRIES
There was a great clashing of tin pails, much running to and fro,