Little Wolf Part 26

The wish and manner so entirely foreign to the child's naturally cheerful and contented disposition attracted Little Wolf's attention.

"Why f.a.n.n.y, do you complain of this lovely day?" she said, in surprise.

"O no, Miss DeWolf, but I was afraid the snow would all melt away before my sled was mended, and I love so much to be out of doors coasting."

"How would you like to take a walk with me?" said Little Wolf, willing to amuse the child, for whom she had already conceived a warm affection.

"O I would like it ever so much," said f.a.n.n.y, joyfully.

"Now where shall we go, f.a.n.n.y?" said Little Wolf, as they started out.

"Why, I don't know," said f.a.n.n.y hesitatingly; "when mamma used to take me out, she said we must go somewhere where we could do good.

Sometimes we went over to old Mrs. Peters'; she is sick all the time, and has no one to help her except her grandson, Charley. Mamma used to make her bed, and read the bible and pray with her, and comfort her all she could. Poor mamma often wished she could carry her something nice to eat, but we hadn't hardly anything to eat ourselves. May be you wouldn't like to go there, though?" said f.a.n.n.y, doubtfully.

Little Wolf hesitated.

"She used to know your mamma," said f.a.n.n.y, "and she said that Mrs.

DeWolf was one of the kindest friends she ever had."

"We will go there, f.a.n.n.y," said Little Wolf decidedly

Their way lay over the very hill where occurred their disastrous collision with Mr. Wycoff; about half a mile from the foot of which, on a cross road, lived Mrs. Peters. f.a.n.n.y ran joyously on before, occasionally turning back to call Little Wolf's attention to a squirrel, or a bird, never dreaming that her companion was less interested than herself. In this way they reached the top of the hill, and began the descent, when suddenly f.a.n.n.y began to look grave and loiter beside Little Wolf. At length she spoke in a subdued whisper, "There lies poor Fleet Foot, Miss DeWolf; he will never breathe again."

Little Wolf sank upon a rock by the wayside, and hid her face in her hands. She thought and said aloud, "O, why was I spared to be so wretched?"

f.a.n.n.y burst into a flood of tears. "What would have become of me if you had been killed?" she sobbed.

Surprised at this demonstration of affection, Little Wolf looked up and drew f.a.n.n.y towards her. The child's words, she knew not why, had consoled and strengthened her. "f.a.n.n.y," said she, "everybody must have something to live for, and I have you"

"O yes, mamma used to say we must all live to do good," said f.a.n.n.y, brightening.

Little Wolf rose and struggled bravely to choke down her rising feelings, for just then she was comparing the bright voyage of life, which she had so lately pictured for herself, with the dark and stormy reality. At that moment, when she would have scorned to indulge in pusillanimous grief, her n.o.ble spirit recognized and bowed in willing obedience to the sublime principle involved in f.a.n.n.y's life-inspiring words.

"Well, f.a.n.n.y," she replied, "if I do live, I hope it will not be in vain. I'm afraid I've been very wicked and selfish all my life."

"O, Miss DeWolf I'm sure you are the _bestest_, _preciousest_ woman next to my mother, that I ever saw in all my life."

f.a.n.n.y made this declaration with the air and a.s.surance of one whose years had embraced a century; but at that moment, an object met her eye, which reminded her that she was but a helpless child. "O, there is Mr. Wycoff!" she exclaimed suddenly, as the rough farmer was seen coming up the hill.

f.a.n.n.y trembled violently, for she feared this man. But Little Wolf, const.i.tutionally brave, in her present state of mind feared nothing, composedly seated herself again upon the rock.

The farmer advanced slowly, and recognized Little Wolf with a bow, and rea.s.sured f.a.n.n.y with a cordial "How are you, f.a.n.n.y?" Then, as he observed traces of tears on f.a.n.n.y's cheek, and Little Wolf's sad look and mourning dress, he stopped short. "Now Miss DeWolf," said he, bluntly, "I may as well say it first as last, I did not mean to run over you that day, but I had been drinking, and did not know what I was about. Whatever you say is right, I will pay you, for I have felt mean about it ever since; 'specially as you haven't made any fuss about it."

Little Wolf appeared n.o.ble indeed, as she feelingly replied, "Mr.

Wycoff, I would cheerfully make the same sacrifice again, if by that means I could persuade you never to taste another drop of intoxicating drink."

"O, I cannot agree to that," said Wycoff, "but I shall do the fair thing by you, for you have acted like a lady."

Then Little Wolf, with a sudden impulse, arose and stepped forward, and began to plead earnestly and eloquently with the man to give up the use of the intoxicating cup. Nor did she plead in vain. The strong man at length yielded to her persuasions; persuasions around which hung the fragrance of the bruised heart, from which they emanated; touching, irresistible.

Inspirational hours are often the fruit of anguish unutterable. The suffering soul begins unconsciously to feel upward, and, at the propitious moment, heaven appoints its work. Thus Little Wolf received her mission, which, with characteristic energy she delayed not to fulfil.

His word having been pledged to total abstinence, Wycoff turned back towards home.

"I was only going to the brewery to meet a few friends," he said, "and if I don't drink with them I may as well keep away."

He walked along with Little Wolf and f.a.n.n.y as far as the cross road, and when they parted, again renewed his vow right heartily. "Never fear, Miss DeWolf," he said, "I shall never taste another drop of liquor, so help me Almighty G.o.d."

"There, now we are _certain_, ain't we, Miss DeWolf? for he asked G.o.d to help him. O, I'm so glad, I'm so glad you have lived to do good,"

said f.a.n.n.y, as the farmer pa.s.sed on.

f.a.n.n.y was exuberant. Her little heart overflowed, and, at intervals during the remainder of their walk, "I'm so glad, I'm so glad," rang out on the still air in sweet, childish accents, mingling with the songs of spring birds, and echoing through the lonely woods.

Arrived at the cottage, they met a warm welcome from Mrs. Peters. For many years, widowed and bed ridden, she had lingered in pain and poverty. Her grandson Charley, a bright, active youth, orphaned at an early age, had, since the death of his mother, been her constant companion and faithful nurse.

He was her pride and her delight, and she in turn shared his warmest affections. It was beautiful indeed to see the n.o.ble-hearted boy yielding all his young strength in providing for her wants. His small earnings at wood cutting, combined with the charity of a few kind hearted neighbors, had during the winter, kept them from absolute want. No wonder, then, that the ambitious youth, anxious to escape the pinches of poverty, was eager to accept a situation in Hank Glutter's saloon, that morning liberally offered by the proprietor in person. No wonder that, grieved and disheartened by the opposition of his grandmother, he met Little Wolf and f.a.n.n.y, (who had interrupted their discussion of the matter), with a downcast countenance.

Conscious that his manner had been observed, the old lady hastened to apologize, "My Charley is feeling quite badly just now," she said.

"Mr. Glutter called here this morning on the way to one of our neighbors, and offered him a clerkship. He will call soon for his answer, and I was just telling Charley that I was unwilling to have him go where he would be exposed to so many temptations."

"Grandmother needs the money," said Charley, "and it is for her sake I want to go. She needn't be afraid of my getting bad habits."

"Well, Charley, we will talk about it again bye and bye," said the old lady, soothingly.

"But there's Mr. Glutter, now, grandma," said the boy springing to the door, "do let me tell him that I will go, _do_ grandma," he begged with painful earnestness.

"Do as your grandma think's best, and you will not be sorry," said Little Wolf in an undertone as Hank approached the door.

"Well, my man," said Hank with great a.s.surance.

"I must do as grandma says," and Charley threw the door wide open.

At sight of Mrs. Peters' visitors, Hank gave a start of surprise, but quickly recovering himself, he bestowed upon each a gentlemanly greeting, and without futher ceremony, plunged into the business upon which he had come.

"Well, Mrs. Peters, have you decided to accept my offer?"

"You are very kind and generous, Mr. Glutter, and I thank you," said the old lady, anxious to soften her refusal; but too honest to give any except the true reason, she continued, "the truth is, I do not like to have Charley go where the influence will be so unfavorable to his becoming a good, sober man."

Had she studied to make it so, Mrs. Peters' guileless reply could not have been more inflammatory to Hank's temper, for, like others of his cla.s.s, he was peculiarly sensitive to any reflection cast upon his business. His eyes flashed, and his lip curled scornfully, but having in mind Little Wolf's presence, he responded smoothly enough, "Very well, Mrs. Peters. Good morning; good morning, ladies," and bowed himself out of the room.

Mrs. Peters drew a sigh of relief, but poor Charley, after struggling a moment for composure, left the apartment with quivering lip, and Little Wolf soon caught a view of him through the window, wiping his eyes with his coat sleeve.

"Poor dear Charley," said his grandmother, "it comes hard on him now, but, G.o.d willing, I hope he will live to thank me for it."

Little Wolf rose hastily. "I must go out and have a little talk with Charley," she said.

"She is just like her father," said Mrs. Peters, as Little Wolf flitted from the room, "when he first came to Chimney Rock he was a princely looking man.

"O, she is the beautifulest lady I ever saw," was f.a.n.n.y's enthusiastic rejoinder.