Jessie Carlton Part 10

Walter Sherwood now came up to the spot where his sister and Jessie stood.

Carrie told him the story of the selfishness of the two cousins, and ended by saying:

"Won't you compel them to let us slide too, Walter?"

"If he touches me, I'll throw this big stone at him," growled Charlie, looking very ugly and holding up a large stone, which he had just taken up from the side of the ditch. Wasn't he a selfish little fellow?

"Please don't touch him," entreated Jessie. "I don't care much about sliding, and Carrie won't mind waiting until to-morrow. Will you, Carrie dear. The weather is so cold, there will soon be plenty of ice. Please don't hurt Charlie, Walter."

"Don't be alarmed, my sweet Jessie," replied Walter, laughing. "I don't want to touch your sting-nettle of a cousin. I'd about as lief grapple a hedgehog. Let him and his selfish sister have their slides all to themselves. You come with me. I know where there is far better sliding than this, and I came on purpose to tell you so. Come, let us go, and leave them to enjoy their slides, if such selfish creatures can enjoy any thing."

"Please Walter, let my cousins go with us," whispered Jessie in Walter's ear, as he took her hand.

"No, no, Jessie, I can't consent to that. They won't be a whit happier there than here, and if we do take them with us, they will only spoil our fun. I never saw two such thorns in my life. You can't go near them, but they scratch you right off."

"They are going home, the day after to-morrow, and I'm glad of it," cried Carrie, as she stepped up the bank after her brother and Jessie.

"So am I," said Walter, "and I'm thinking there will be plenty of dry eyes at Glen Morris Cottage, when they go away. What do you say to that, Jessie?"

"I'm sorry my cousins are so selfish," replied Jessie, "but Charlie is the worst. I think if Emily was here without him, she would soon be a good girl."

"Perhaps so. Yet I'm inclined to think you'll see apples growing on that old hickory yonder, before she becomes _good_, as you call it. But let us hurry into the pasture. Here, Jessie, mount these bars?"

As he spoke, Walter leaped over the rail-fence of a pasture, and giving his hand to Jessie, she mounted the top bar.

"Now jump!" cried Walter.

Jessie did as she was told. Carrie followed. Then Walter led them along the pasture, until they struck a bend in the brook where the water having flowed over a flat basin, was very shallow. Along the edge of this basin the water was frozen hard.

"Isn't this nice?" shouted Jessie, as she slid over the gla.s.s-like surface.

"It's perfectly beautiful," replied Carrie, gliding along in an opposite direction.

Walter made a slide for himself, just in front of the girls, and being all brim-full of good-nature, they enjoyed themselves finely. But there were two shadows that flashed on Jessie's joy now and then. The first was the image of the quilt she had left on the parlor-floor; the second was her regret that her cousins were so ugly. When the former image flitted before her, a little voice in her breast whispered,

"In the chains of the little wizard again, eh?"

[Ill.u.s.tration: Jessie and Carrie Enjoying a Slide. Page 105.]

Then Jessie would sigh, look very sober, and pause, saying to herself, "I really must go home and sew."

Before her purpose was fairly formed, however, Walter or Carrie would cry out, "What, getting tired already! You are not half a slider."

"Just once more, and then I'll go," Jessie would say to herself. But before that one more slide was through, she would purpose to add yet another. Thus time fled until the morning was almost gone, and the quilt, the little wizard, Uncle Morris, and even the ugly cousins, were nearly forgotten, in the excitement of this pleasant sport.

This delight was, however, brought to an end by a loud scream, followed by a shrill voice crying, "Charlie! _Charlie!_ Charlie! You'll be drowned! Oh dear! Oh dear!"

This was followed by another scream. Walter guessed what was the matter at once. He knew that near where the cousins were sliding, the trunk of a tree formed a sort of bridge over the brook, and enabled the cow-boys to pa.s.s dry-shod in summer. When the brook was low, it was a safe enough bridge, but when it was full as it was then, it was what the boys called "a pokerish place to cross." He surmised at once, that Charlie was frightening his sister, by attempting to walk across the brook on this rough and narrow bridge. So he told the girls, and then they all ran towards the spot from whence the cry came.

A few minutes' run brought them in sight of Master Charlie standing erect on the tree, right over the middle of the brook. Emily was standing at the water's edge, screaming, and begging him to come back.

"Stop your screaming, you coward, or I'll lick you till you are dumb,"

shouted the wilful boy, shaking his fist at his sister, as Walter and the two girls came up, on the other side of the brook.

Emily seeing them approach, called out to Walter, and said:

"Do make him come off that dreadful log, will you?"

"I'd like to see anybody _make_ me come off," said Charlie. As he spoke, he turned round to see who had come. In doing this his foot slipped, and losing his balance, he fell backwards into the brook.

The girls both screamed, for they were in great terror. Walter, however, laughed heartily, and said:

"Don't be frightened! The water isn't deep enough to drown the little fury. I hope it's cold enough to cool his courage, though."

As he spoke, Walter rolled up his pants, and then kicking off his boots, he waded into the brook and led Charlie ash.o.r.e. The little fellow spluttered and shivered, but said nothing. The water had cooled his courage, and for the present, his ugliness had all subsided. They led him back to Glen Morris as quickly as possible, to get a change of clothes.

This mishap broke up their plan of dining and spending the afternoon with Carrie Sherwood. Thus the selfishness of the two cousins, again robbed both themselves and their friends of a promised pleasure. As for poor little Jessie, she drew down her face and looked very sad, as she put her quilt into the basket, when the bell rung for dinner. Sighing deeply she said half-aloud,

"Conquered again. It _is_ no use. The little wizard _is_ my master, and I won't try to resist him any more. What's the use of trying?"

"Tut, tut, tut! No use in trying, eh? Who says so?"

Jessie looked up, and her eyes met the pleasant smile of Uncle Morris, who had entered the room, in his usual quiet way, un.o.bserved by the dispirited girl. She gave him back no answering smile, but drooping her head, stood silently before him. Seeing her sadness and knowing the cause, Uncle Morris said:

"Jessie, will you please be a school-ma'am for a moment, and let me recite my lesson to you?"

Jessie smiled a faint smile, but said nothing.

"Well, silence gives consent, I suppose. So I will recite my lesson. It is a fable and runs thus:

"Two robin redb.r.e.a.s.t.s built their nests Within a hollow tree; The hen sat quietly at home, The male sang merrily; And all the little robins said, 'Wee, wee, wee, wee, wee, wee.'

One day--the sun was warm and bright, And shining in the sky-- c.o.c.k Robin said, 'My little dears, 'Tis time you learn to fly;'

And all the little young ones said, 'I'll try, I'll try, I'll try.'

"I know a child, and who she is I'll tell you by and by, When mamma says, 'Do this' or 'that,'

She says, 'What for?' and 'Why?'

She'd be a better child by far, If she would say, 'I'LL TRY.'"

When Uncle Morris paused, tears stood in Jessie's eyes, and a bright smile played round her lips. Putting her hand into his, she said:

"And I'll try, too, Uncle. I'll try till I conquer."

CHAPTER VII.

Jessie's First Great Victory.