Teddy's Button Part 2

'And you do, too, granny!'

Teddy's laughing blue eyes, as he raised them to the grim face before him, conquered, as they generally did.

'There, go to your mother, she's in the dairy; I wash my hands of you.'

But Teddy crept up to his little room to change his wet clothes before he met his mother, and then was very silent about his adventure, merely saying, by way of explanation, that he had fallen into the brook; but at tea, a short time after, he suddenly said,--

'If you put a sailor and a soldier together, which would you choose, Uncle Jake?'

'Eh, my laddie? Well, they're both good in their way. I couldn't say, I'm sure.'

'Mother, wouldn't you say the soldier was the bravest?'

'Perhaps I might, sonny; but a sailor can be quite as brave.'

Teddy's face fell. 'I never thought a sailor could fight at all,' he said, in a disappointed tone; 'I thought they just took care of our ships, and now and then fired a big gun off.'

'Who's been bringing up the sailors to you?' asked his grandmother.

'That little girl I told you of--Nancy her name is.'

'Where have you seen her?'

'Down by the brook; we fell into the water together, because we both wanted to cross at once.'

'But, my boy, that was naughty for you not to give place to her,' and Mrs. John spoke reprovingly.

'I know it was, mother, but I wasn't going to turn back. That would be running away from the enemy. You see, we met in the middle, and she's not at all a nice girl, and she's so proud and stuck up about the sailors!'

'As proud as you are of the redcoats, I guess!' old Mrs. Platt said.

'Do sailors and soldiers like each other?' questioned Teddy, ignoring the thrust.

'I am sure I don't know,' his mother answered, smiling. 'I have never seen them together that I remember, but I should think they did. They both fight for their queen and country.'

'Well, I'm a soldier's son, and I don't like a sailor's daughter, I know that! I think she is a kind of enemy.'

'Oh, hush! sonny. You must have no enemies. It is wrong to talk so.'

'That's what he was a-sayin' to me t'other day,' put in his uncle slowly; 'he says he wants one.'

'Yes, I do,' and Teddy gave a fervent nod as he spoke; 'and, mother, I believe most good people have enemies, so it must be right to have one.'

'They never make one, as you're trying to do.'

Teddy looked puzzled.

'Well,' he said presently, 'I expect it's because she's a stranger. She doesn't belong to our village. I don't like strangers.'

'She's no more a stranger than you were when you first came here,' his mother said; 'and the fact of her being a stranger ought to make you kind to her.'

'I'm thinking of calling on her mother,' old Mrs. Platt said, looking at her little grandson with her keen grey eyes; 'shall I take you with me to see the little girl?'

'I've seen her enough, granny. Please, I think I'd rather not.'

The subject was dropped, but Teddy's thoughts were busy. He ran down to the village green after tea, and there met one or two of his special chums, to whom he confided the events of the afternoon. They highly applauded the scene at the bridge, but Teddy shook his curly head a little doubtfully.

'Men ought always to give way to women, I've heard mother say; but I couldn't turn back, you see--it would have disgraced my b.u.t.ton.'

'Tell you what,' cried Harry Brown, commonly known as 'Carrots' from his fiery hair, 'you could 'a done what the goats did in the primer at school--you ought ter have laid flat down and let her walk across you.'

'She would have hurt dreadful,' Teddy observed thoughtfully. 'Besides, she's so proud, I don't think I would have liked to do that.'

'No,' put in Sam Waters; 'you did fine. I say, let's come up to the turnpike and see if she's about there. I'll give her a word, if she begins to sauce me.'

Teddy agreed to this, and the trio trotted off along a flat, dusty road, Teddy beguiling the way by some of his wonderful stories till they came in sight of the low thatched cottage, covered with roses, that guarded the turnpike.

They soon saw the young damsel, for she was swinging on the gate, her dark hair flying in the wind, and her eyes and cheeks bright with the exercise. She looked at the boys, then laughed.

'Poor little b.u.t.ton-boy!' she said; 'you have to be taken care of by two bigger ones.'

'We've come to see you,' said Sam valiantly, 'because we ain't going to stand any cheek from you; so you had better look out.'

Nancy stopped swinging, and resting her fat little elbows on the topmost bar, asked saucily, 'Did the b.u.t.ton-boy tell you to come and help him fight me? Are you all three going to try?'

'We don't fight girls,' said Teddy.

'You push them into the water.'

'I didn't.'

'I told mother about it. She thought you was a very rude boy not to wait till I crossed over.'

There was silence, then Carrots started forward.

'Look here, you'll have to learn your manners, and we won't have a strange girl like you stick yourself up so. We've come to tell you to look out for yourself if you don't stop it.'

Nancy laughed again, and swung herself violently backwards and forwards.

'Yo ho! my lads, yo ho!' she sang. 'I'm on my ship, and I don't care for boys a bit; they're all as stupid as they can be. Yo ho! We go! Yo ho, lads, heave ho!'

Her elevated position certainly seemed to give her an advantage.

'We'll soon shake you off there!' shouted Sam, his wrath rising at her calm indifference to the lords of creation.

'Come on, and try. I'm up the rigging, and a storm is beginning.

Hurray--come on!'

Sam and Carrots made a furious onslaught, and the gate was roughly handled, but the more it shook and swung, the more derisive was Nancy's laughter, as she clutched a firm hold with her small hands, and swayed to and fro, calling out excitedly, 'Furl the main-sail! Stand by, lads--steady--starboard hard! Port your helm! Rocks to leeward! Reef the top-sail! Breakers ahead! Yo ho!'