Conduct of life -- Juvenile fiction; Family life -- Juvenile fiction
Jessie went into a little tool-shed, which was close to the rabbits'
dwelling-place. She did not like to watch the window, but was too
anxious to be able to go and help Francie with her gardening, or to play
with Lewis, who was wandering aimlessly about. 'Father,' who was so
tender to his little girls, who was the very very best man, as Jessie
believed, in the whole world, could nevertheless be very severe when he
saw occasion--could reprove in a way which an offender was not likely to
forget. He had wonderful patience for the blunders of little Lewis, who
was rather dull, and found lessons a daily difficulty; but he had always
expected much more of Cecil, who was really full of ability, and had
sometimes dealt seriously with his fits of idleness in the days of his
home teaching. And _now_--now when the boy had failed just when every
principle of duty should have made him exert himself to the utmost--what
could be looked for? Oh, what a bitter half-hour this must be to Cecil!
Yes, for half an hour passed, and still Cecil did not come back.
Jessie's fright and agitation were growing very hard to bear. 'Oh I know
it is right!' she said, clasping her hands together; 'I know we _must_
be scolded and punished for our faults; only I wish it was me, and not
Cecil. And, after all, I think there must have been some mistake, for he
says he _did_ work; and if father could only believe it, I am sure he
wouldn't be angry, even though Cecil _has_ lost his place in school! Oh,
I wish it could be made clear somehow! I know! I will ask God to make it
clear.' And then the little girl prayed to the heavenly Father, whom the
earthly father had taught her to seek in all her troubles.
Eight o'clock struck, and she started to her feet.
'Oh! I must go in and do my work--I shall only just be able to finish it
before bed-time. Father must have gone to the choir practice. I wonder
if he has taken Cecil with him, and if _that_ is the reason why he
hasn't come back?'
With a deep-drawn breath of relief at this possibility, she ran into the
house, and meeting her eldest brother in the hall, hastily inquired if
he knew what had become of Cecil.
'He's in his room, I think,' was the answer. 'Poor little beggar! I
fancied I heard him sobbing, and wanted to go in, but he wouldn't let
me. I've just been telling Mary, that if I don't succeed in getting my
commission without purchase I shall enlist as a private, and never come
home at all. I couldn't stand seeing you all look as glum about me as
you do about Cecil.'
'Oh, but, Percy, would that be--' began little Jessie in consternation;
and then he laughed, and she saw that he was joking.
'Mother's been looking for you,' he said as she turned towards the
staircase; 'she wants you to do some work.'
'Where's father?'
'Gone to the choir practice a quarter of an hour ago. Good-bye; I'm
going out for a stroll. Try and cheer up that poor little chap; perhaps
he'll let you in, as you're his chum.'
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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