Frank and Fanny Part 3

"No, indeed; I wouldn't go for any thing; and I do wish you would let the poor birds be. Just think how badly you'd feel if you was a bird, and had a nice little nest of your own, to find your eggs all stolen."

"Ho, ho," laughed Jack, "here's a young parson, preaching to me, who wasn't too good to help himself to a bird, a few weeks ago, when the old ones did all they could to keep him away from the nest. Why didn't you think then how you'd feel if you'd been the bird?--ha?"

Frank did not answer; but he thought that he had suffered sufficiently for his thoughtlessness, without being taunted with it. He tried to persuade Jack not to rob any more birds' nests; but Jack only laughed at him, and told him to run home to his sister, like a good little boy. Frank was the oldest, and he felt rather vexed at the sneering way in which Jack spoke; but he made no angry answer.

At school time, Frank and f.a.n.n.y went to school again; but Jack played truant, as he had done in the morning, and went down in the meadows, with the boys, whom he had told Frank he was going with.

Miss Norton asked Frank, if he knew what had kept Jack away from school all day, and he repeated to her, as nearly as he could, the conversation which had taken place between them that noon.

The next morning, when Jack came into school rather late, Miss Norton called him up to her, and told him to read out loud, this piece, from the Village Reader.

"HAVE YOU SEEN MY DARLING NESTLINGS?"

A Mother robin cried: "I cannot, cannot find them, Though I've sought them far and wide

"I left them well this morning, When I went to seek their food; But I found upon returning, I'd a nest, without a brood.

"Oh, have you naught to tell me To ease my aching breast, About my tender offspring, That I left within my nest?

"I have called them in the bushes, And the rolling stream beside: Yet they come not at my bidding And I fear they all have died."

"I can tell you all about them,"

Said a little wanton boy, "For 'twas I that had the pleasure Your nestlings to destroy.

"But I did not think their mother Her little ones would miss, Or ever come to hail me With a wailing sound like this.

"I did not know your bosom Was formed to suffer woe, And mourn your murdered offspring, Or I had not grieved you so.

"I ever shall remember, The plaintive sounds I've heard; And never'll kill a nestling To pain another bird."

Jack was very much confused when he commenced reading. As he read on, he looked more and more ashamed, and when he finished, his face was almost crimson.

Miss Norton was glad to see this, for she thought that it showed, that he was not entirely hardened; so she suffered him to go to his seat, without saying any more to him, hoping that this would be a sufficient reproof. Before school was out, at noon, however, all Jack's mortification had vanished, and in its stead, he indulged in very angry feelings towards Frank for he was sure that Frank had told of him.

"I'll fix him," he said to his seat-mate, Harry Day, a merry little fellow, whose roguish blue eyes looked quite capable of a.s.sisting where there was any mischief going on.

"What'll you do?" said Harry.

"Why, I'll get him mad, and then I'll lick him; and I know how I'll get him mad." So Jack, in accordance with his wicked resolution, wrote in very large letters upon a slip of paper, 'BOY-GIRL;' on another slip, he wrote, 'GIRL-BOY,' and giving Harry the one he had first written, he told him to pin it on to f.a.n.n.y's back, when they stopped in the entry, to get their bonnets and caps. At the same time, he slily pinned the other on Frank's roundabout. So when Frank and f.a.n.n.y went along out of school, as usual, the little children, amused by the slips of paper, ran after them, some calling, 'boy-girl,' and others, 'girl-boy,'

Frank did not know what all this meant; but he kept on without looking back.

"Look behind you," cried Harry Day, as he ran up to f.a.n.n.y. Jack kept some distance behind, and said nothing.

"Look behind you, I say," shouted Harry again.

f.a.n.n.y was turning to look, when Frank said to her in a low tone, without moving his head,

"Don't look around, f.a.n.n.y, and don't mind what they call us, for I don't care."

[Ill.u.s.tration: JACK MILLS'S TRICK.]

So they kept on, side by side, the children still calling after them, and when they got away from the school house, Jack's voice was heard among the rest, shouting, 'tell-tale,' 'girl-baby,' and other provoking nicknames.

Frank took no notice of them, until his sister stooped down to pick a flower, and as she did so, he saw the paper on her back.

"Who did this?" he said, and as he turned toward the children, he saw Jack throwing a stone. The stone flew past him, hitting his sister in the face. f.a.n.n.y screamed, and the blood started from her nose.

Jack ran, and Frank's first impulse was to spring after him; but he did not know how badly his sister might be hurt, and so he staid with her, and wiped the blood from her face. The children crowded around, and Harry Day unpinned the pieces of paper, for he felt ashamed, for the part he had taken.

All the while, Frank's heart was full of angry feeling toward Jack, and he could not have kept them down, if he had not had his sister to take care of. He was very glad to find that she was not seriously hurt; for the stone had not hit her with its full force, only grazing her nose, between the eyes.

When they got home, f.a.n.n.y told her grandmother all about it; but Frank did not say a word. It was plain to be seen by the way in which his head moved, as he walked the floor, that he was striving to obtain a mastery over his pa.s.sions. After a while he said,

"I wish I could fight Jack Mills, grandmother."

"My dear Frank," she answered, "you have forgotten the golden rule."

"No, I haven't forgotten it, grandmother; for if Jack Mills had a sister, and I had thrown a stone at her, he might have fought me, and welcome."

"But now that Jack has thrown the stone, cannot you set him the example of overcoming evil with good?"

"I don't know, grandmother; I think it would be very hard."

At dinner, Frank asked his grandfather, why kings went to war with each other. He told him, that it was generally to defend their rights.

"Well, grandfather," said he, "if it isn't wrong for them to fight, then I don't see why it wouldn't be right for me to fight Jack Mills, and I know I should feel a great deal happier after I had done it."

His grandfather told him, that it would be very wrong for him to fight with Jack, and that it would make him no happier. He also told him, that Jack had not had the same influences around him, which he had always had, and that if he retaliated, he would be even worse than Jack, who had never been instructed so faithfully in what was right and wrong. Frank listened without appearing to be convinced.

Then his grandmother read him the last eleven verses of the fifth chapter of Matthew; but Frank still said, that he was afraid he could not pray for Jack, and he knew he could not love him.

Mrs. Mills was very poor. She took in washing when she could get it, and when she could not, she went around from house to house, to wash by the day, where she was wanted. Mrs. Hamilton often sent the children to her, with vegetables, or a loaf of fresh bread, or some warm cakes; and sometimes a pie, or a piece of meat, and many other little niceties. That afternoon, she prepared a basket, with a paper of tea, and some eggs, and when the children came from school, she told them that they might go and carry it to Mrs. Mills.

Frank did not look very much pleased at first, but when he saw f.a.n.n.y lift the basket so willingly, he took it from her, and said,

"You do right, grandmother, to send me to do good for evil, and I will try not to say any thing naughty to Jack."

His grandmother told him, that she was not afraid to trust him. So the children went along through the orchard, and when they came in sight of the low, brown house, they saw, that the door which generally stood open, was closed. Frank opened it, and looked in. There was a bed in the room, and Mrs. Mills was lying down. She looked very pale and tired; but when she saw the children, she welcomed them, and asked them to come in.

She tried to sit up in bed, but her head ached so, that she was obliged to lie down again, and give up the attempt. She was really quite ill.

When f.a.n.n.y found Mrs. Mills was sick, she said,

"Do let me make a nice cup of tea for you. Sally says it is so good for a head ache."

"I haven't any tea, my child," she answered, "or I should have made some when I finished my washing."

"But grandmother has sent you some, and here it is, just the very thing you want; now, do lie down, and let us fix it for you, it would make me _so happy_."