Take the little matter of Leslie's calling Mrs. Perkins a cat. She
_was_ a cat, but Leslie ought not to have told her so. It wasn't
polite, and it wasn't Christian. And yet how could she, plain Julia
Cloud, who had never been anywhere much outside of her home town, who
had had no opportunity for study or wide reading, and who had only
worked quietly all her life, and thought her plain little thoughts of
love to God and to her neighbors, be able to explain all those things
to this pair of lovable, uncontrolled children, who had always had
their own way, and whose ideals were the ideals of the great wide
unchristian world?
A little pucker grew between her brows, and a tired, troubled tear
stole softly between her lashes. When the children, tiptoeing about
and whispering, came to peek in at the door and see whether she was
asleep, they discovered her expression at once, and, drawing near,
sighted the tear. Then they went down upon their knees beside her
couch, and noisily demanded the cause thereof.
Little by little they drew her fears from her.
"Why, Cloudy, dear! We'll do what you want. We'll let all the old cats
in the community walk over you if that will make you happy," declared
Leslie, patting her face.
"No, we won't!" put in Allison; "we'll keep 'em away from her, but we
won't let 'em know how we despise 'em. Won't that do, Cloudy? And as
for all those other things you are afraid about, why couldn't you just
wait till we come to them? We're anything but angels, I admit, but
we're going to try to do what you want us to if it busts the eye-teeth
out of us, because we want you. And you always have been such a good
scout. As for the church dope and all that, why, it's like that guy in
the Bible you used to tell us about when we were children--or was she
a lady? It's a case of 'Thy people shall be my people, and thy God my
God,' or words to that effect. If we don't agree on our own account,
we'll do it because you want it. Isn't that about the idea? Wouldn't
that fill the bill?"
"You dear children!" said Julia Cloud, her eyes full of smiles and
tears now as she gathered them both into a loving embrace. "I don't
know how anybody could promise more than that. I wasn't afraid of you;
it was myself. You know I'm not at all wise, and it's pretty late in
life for me to begin to bring up children."
"Well, you're all right, anyhow, Cloudy; and you're the only person in
the world we'll let bring us up; so it's up to you to do it the best
you can, or it won't get done. Come on now; we've got lunch ready.
There's cold chicken and bread and milk and pie and cake, and I've
got the teakettle boiling like a house afire, so if you want any tea
or anything you can have it."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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