“Well, well, little folks, this looks well, this looks well,” said the great man, good humoredly, as he entered the circle. “‘It’s the early bird that catches the worm,’ and its the early chicks that pick up the largest crumbs at the bountiful table of learning.”
The “chicks” looked a little crestfallen as the captain passed among them, patting a head here, and chucking a chin there; for to boys and girls ranging from ten to fifteen years of age, these babyish appellations and familiarities are not cordially welcome.
“Phil, unlock the door.—Everything’s in order, nice and clean; and be sure you keep it so, little folks.”
“And mind, darlin’s, it’s the captain that’s done it all,” put in Phil, as he unlocked the door. “Niver be ungrateful, for it is a warm heart has the captain, though he doesn’t always show it in his face.”
“Come, come, Phil, none of that,” cried the captain, a flash of “ugliness” springing to his face to give color to Phil’s remark. “Mind your own business, and open the door.”
“There yez are,” said Phil, throwing open the door. “In wid yez, and have a raal foine frolic afore the schoolmasther comes. Howld on a bit. Three cheers for yer binefacthor—Captain Thompson. Now: one, two, three, and away you go!”
Phil led off with a cheer, in which the young people heartily joined. The captain turned down the hill, followed by Phil and the continued cheers of the scholars, who, once started, were not contented with anything short of three times three, though whether the thought of their benefactor or the sound of their own voices contributed more to their enthusiasm, would have been no hard matter to decide.
The captain, evidently impressed with the idea that the young Sleepers were to be driven to school like unruly cattle, was armed with his whip, and, that there might be no defeat of his project, had furnished Phil with a stout stick, and bade him keep a sharp eye on the youngsters until they were safe in the school-house. Phil followed meekly, with his weapon under his arm and a broad grin on his face, for the comicality of the situation highly delighted the warm-hearted Hibernian, with whom the young people were such favorites that, had they meditated an escape, he would have managed, by some native blunder, to aid, and not impede, their attempt.
To the utter astonishment of the captain, when they reached the house, a transformation had been accomplished. On a block in the yard sat Teddy, with a clean face, smoothly-brushed hair, clothes well patched, to be sure, but without a rent, and, strangest of all, shoes and stockings on his feet. Becky sat in the doorway, with an open book in her lap, hair well brushed and curled, frock mended, clean apron, polished shoes, and white stockings. All this was the work of Hulda Prime. Either in gratitude to Mrs. Thompson, who had quickly returned the purloined goodies, with the request that the children be made presentable, or from a desire to astonish her enemy, Hulda had risen at an early hour, aroused the sleepers, washed, brushed, and mended with an energy that surprised even the dreamy mother, and, after a lesson in good behaviour, had set her charge out to dry, until the arrival of the captain.