And when that somewhat difficult feat was accomplished, he found that she had picked up her books, and with a pursed up determined mouth was marching steadily forward again.
"I will hold the umbrella over you," he said; "we are going the same way. How far have you to walk? Are you going to school? It is too rough a morning for you to be out."
"That's what mother thought, but Becca said 'no'—that rough days made things hardy, and I must learn to endure. And I haven't missed a day since I began to go to school."
"What do you learn? Your A B C?"
"No," the child responded gravely; "I can read, but there seems a lot to learn, doesn't there? I never knew the world was so big till I went to school. How long did you take to learn the world?"
"I never learnt it at school," the young man said with a smile.
"Becca says it's what I shall have to learn. She says jography is knowing the places in the world, and history is knowing the people in the world, and sums is knowing how to do business in the world, and music is knowing how to amuse people in the world."
"Your Becca must be a character. Is she your sister?"
"Oh no, she is older than mother. She's our nurse, I think, though we don't call her 'nurse.' She nursed me when I was a baby, and now she nurses mother when she is ill. Becca does everything, and mother and I do what she tells us."
"And it is Becca who turns you out for a mile walk on a stormy morning like this!"