Cousins -- Juvenile fiction; Family life -- Juvenile fiction; Orphans -- Juvenile fiction
Rose laughed at this reckless offer, but promised to attend to that
important branch, though she confessed that darning was her weak point.
Whereupon Uncle Alec engaged to supply her with socks in all stages of
dilapidation, and to have a new set at once, so that she could run the
heels for him as a pleasant beginning.
Then they went up to make their request in due form, to the great
delight of gentle Aunt Peace, who got quite excited with the fun that
went on while they would yarn, looked up darning needles, and fitted out
a nice little mending basket for her pupil.
Very busy and very happy were Rose's days now, for in the morning she
went about the house with Aunt Plenty attending to linen-closets and
store-rooms, pickling and preserving, exploring garret and cellar to see
that all was right, and learning, in the good old-fashioned manner, to
look well after the ways of the household.
In the afternoon, after her walk or drive, she sat with Aunt Peace
plying her needle, while Aunt Plenty, whose eyes were failing, knitted
and chatted briskly, telling many a pleasant story of old times, till
the three were moved to laugh and cry together, for the busy needles
were embroidering all sorts of bright patterns on the lives of the
workers, though they seemed to be only stitching cotton and darning
hose.
It was a pretty sight to see the rosy-faced little maid sitting between
the two old ladies, listening dutifully to their instructions, and
cheering the lessons with her lively chatter and blithe laugh. If the
kitchen had proved attractive to Dr. Alec when Rose was there at work,
the sewing-room was quite irresistible, and he made himself so agreeable
that no one had the heart to drive him away, especially when he read
aloud or spun yarns.
“There! I've made you a new set of warm night-gowns with four
button-holes in each. See if they are not neatly done,” said Rose, one
day, some weeks after the new lessons began.
“Even to a thread, and nice little bars across the end so I can't tear
them when I twitch the buttons out. Most superior work, ma'am, and I'm
deeply grateful; so much so, that I'll sew on these buttons myself, and
save those tired fingers from another prick.”
“You sew them on?” cried Rose, with her eyes wide open in amazement.
“Wait a bit till I get my sewing tackle, and then you shall see what I
can do.”
“Can he, really?” asked Rose of Aunt Peace, as Uncle Alec marched off
with a comical air of importance.
“Oh, yes, I taught him years ago, before he went to sea; and I suppose
he has had to do things for himself, more or less, ever since; so he has
kept his hand in.”
He evidently had, for he was soon back with a funny little work-bag, out
of which he produced a thimble without a top; and, having threaded his
needle, he proceeded to sew on the buttons so handily that Rose was much
impressed and amused.
“I wonder if there is anything in the world that you cannot do,” she
said, in a tone of respectful admiration.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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