Part 6 (1/2)
”Nixy Jones's mother died yesterday, Miss Kate. They had an orful nice funeral.”
”Yes, I'm sorry for the poor little children; they will miss their mamma.”
”Not 'nuff to hurt 'em! Them Joneses never cared nuthin' for n.o.body; they was playing on tin oyster cans the hull blessed ev'nin', till Jim went 'nd stop't 'em, 'nd told 'em it warn't perlite. Say how dretful it must be to go down into the cold, dark ground, and be shut up in a tight box, 'nd want to git out--git out--'nd keep hollerin' 'nd a-hollerin', and n.o.body come to fetch yer, cause yer's dead!”
”Oh, Patsy, child, stop such fearful thoughts! I hope people are glad and willing to stay when they are dead. The part of them that wonders and thinks and feels and loves and is happy or sad--you know what I mean, don't you?”
”Yes,” he said slowly, leaning his head on his hand.
”G.o.d takes care of that part; it is His own, and He makes it all right.
And as for our bodies, Patsy, you don't care about keeping your poor little aching back, do you? You talk about the cold, dark earth. Why, I think of it as the tender, warm earth, that holds the little brown acorn until it begins to grow into a spreading oak-tree, and nurses the little seeds till they grow into lovely blossoming flowers. Now we must trot home, Patsy. Wrap this shawl over your shoulders, and come under my umbrella.”
”Oh, I don't need any shawl, please. I'm so orful hot!”
”That's just the reason,” I replied, as I looked with anxious eyes at his flushed cheeks.
I left him at the little door on Anna Street, and persuaded Mrs. Kennett to give him some hot soup at dinner-time.
The next morning I was startled from a profound sleep by a tremendous peal of the door-bell. Though only half awakened, my forebodings seemed realized; and the bell rang ”Patsy” in my ears.
I hastily slipped on my dress, and, going to the door, saw just whom I expected,--Jim.
”What's the matter with Patsy?”
”He's turrible bad, miss; he got took with one o' them fits the worst kind in the night, and liked ter died. Yer could a heerd him screech a block off.”
”Oh, my poor boy! Have you had a doctor? What did he say?”
”Well, he said he guessed it was the last one, miss, 'nd I'm afraid it is, sure.”
”Who is with him now? Are you going right back?”
”Yes, miss, soon as I go 'nd git leave from the boss. Mis' Kennett's went to her was.h.i.+n'. She couldn't 'ford ter lose a job. I found Mr.
Kennett, 'nd he's mindin' Patsy. He cries for you; he says he don't want nothin' but jest Miss Kate, and he's that crazy he wants to git up 'nd come to the Kindergarten.”
”Dear little lad!” I said, trying to keep back the tears. ”Here, Jim, take the school keys to Miss Helen, and ask her to take my place to-day.
I'll start in ten minutes for Patsy.”
”Thank yer, miss. I tell yer, he's a crooked little chap, but he's as smart as they make 'em; 'nd annyhow, he's all the folks I've got in the world, 'nd I hope we kin pull him through.”
”Pull him through!” Had years pa.s.sed over Patsy's head since I saw him last? He seemed to have grown old with the night's pain, but the eyes shone out with new l.u.s.tre and brilliancy, making ready, I thought, to receive the heavenly visions.
We were alone. I could not bear Mr. Kennett's presence, and had dispatched him for the doctor. I knelt by the bedside, and took his cold hand in mine. I could not pray G.o.d to spare him, it was so clear that He had better take him to Himself.
”I knowed you'd come, Miss Kate,” he said faintly; ”I knowed you'd hurry up; you's allers hurryin' up for us boys.”