Sunday Night.
Nucky asked for extra work during his playtime yesterday in order to make some money, and for three hours spaded flower-beds, receiving a dime in pay, and making a mysterious visit to the village after supper. This morning when I was ready for church, he came into my room with a yard of bright pink ribbon dangling from his hand. This he held out to me, saying,
"You allus go about with them old black strings on, and haint got no pretty fixings like t'other women,—I allow you're too poor to buy 'em. I want you to have something pretty."
For seven years I have not had on a color,—I never supposed I could wear one again. But I slowly unfastened the black ribbon from my collar, and replaced it with the pink. Then I put my arms around Nucky, and kissed him.
"I was poor,—horribly poor, Nucky," I said, "before I got you and the other boys. But I shall never feel poor again, after receiving such a precious gift as this!"
Precious indeed it is, not only as representing untold sacrifice on his part, but as showing that he really cares for me,—he is so reserved and self-contained I did not dream he did.
One thing is certain,—I will try to deserve his sacrifice and love,—to-morrow I will send away not only for bright ribbons, but for cheerful dresses which shall please his eyes and those of the others. No longer shall they see me in garments of heaviness.
Tuesday.
This noon, Iry, who since our first talk about swearing, has been trying without much success to stop it—sometimes he bites off the tail of a swear-word, but generally the head and trunk escape him—ran into my room with big eyes. "Geordie and me was a-quarling over a shinny-bat he traded me out of, and I started to say a' awful cuss-word at him, and then I ricollected what you said about my maw a-watching me all the time, and I never said a thing to him but 'Dad burn your ole soul!'"
I congratulated the "pure scholar" on his great victory, and encouraged him to press on.