Her brother, who was two years younger, was named Timothy; but Margaret had always called him “Bud,” because she could not say “brother” more plainly when first she began to talk; so nearly every one who knew Timothy called him Bud, as little Meg did.
These children had lost their mother when very young, and the big ferryman had tried to be both mother and father to them, and had reared them very gently and lovingly. They were good children, and were liked by every one in the village.
But one day a terrible misfortune befell them. The ferryman tried to cross the river for a passenger one very stormy night; but he never reached the other shore. When the storm subsided and morning came they found his body lying on the river-bank, and the two children were left alone in the world.
The news was carried by travelers to the city of Nole, where the ferryman’s only sister lived; and a few days afterward the woman came to the village and took charge of her orphaned niece and nephew.
She was not a bad-hearted woman, this Aunt Rivette; but she had worked hard all her life, and had a stern face and a stern voice. She thought the only way to make children behave was to box their ears every now and then; so poor Meg, who had been well-nigh heart-broken at her dear father’s loss, had still more occasion for tears after Aunt Rivette came to the village.
As for Bud, he was so impudent and ill-mannered to the old lady that she felt obliged to switch him; and afterward the boy became surly and silent, and neither wept nor answered his aunt a single word. It hurt Margaret dreadfully to see her little brother whipped, and she soon became so unhappy at the sorrowful circumstances in which she and her brother found themselves that she sobbed from morning till night and knew no comfort.
Aunt Rivette, who was a laundress in the city of Nole, decided she would take Meg and Bud back home with her.
“The boy can carry water for my tubs, and the girl can help me with the ironing,” she said.
So she sold all the heavier articles of furniture that the cottage contained, as well as the cottage itself; and all the remainder of her dead brother’s belongings she loaded upon the back of the little donkey she had ridden on her journey from Nole. It made such a pile of packages that the load seemed bigger than the donkey himself; but he was a strong little animal, and made no complaint of his burden.
All this being accomplished, they set out one morning for Nole, Aunt Rivette leading the donkey by the bridle with one hand and little Bud with the other, while Margaret followed behind, weeping anew at this sad parting with her old home and all she had so long loved.