There came a moment or two of absolute silence—silence more pleasing to Jesse than any words, for as his quick eyes glanced from one to another of his three friends, he saw that it was the silence of delight and surprise.
At last said Ferdy, his words tumbling over each other in his eagerness, "Miss Lilly, Chrissie, isn't it wonderful? Do you hear what Jesse says? It's his pupils. He's been teaching what he's been learning. Tell us all about it, Jesse."
"Do, do," added Eva. "Yes, Ferdy, you're quite right—it's wonderful. Who are they all, Jesse?"
"We works in a shed there, in a field by the smithy ... and we're as jolly as sand-boys."
"There's about a dozen, altogether," began Jesse, with, for the first time, a sort of shyness. "It began with one or two at the farm; seein' me so busy of an evening, they thought it'd be better fun nor throwin' sticks into the water for the dogs to catch, or smokin' them rubbishin' sham cigars. We sat in the barn, and then one day I met Barney—Barney Coles, cousin's son to Uncle Bill at Draymoor. Barney's not a bad chap, and he's been ill and can't go in the mines. And we talked a bit, and he axed how it was I never come their way, and I said how busy I was, and he might see for hisself. So he comed, and he's got on one of the fastest—with plain work like," and Jesse picked out one or two neat little boxes and plates, with stiff unfanciful patterns, carefully done. "He's lots of time just now, you see, and he's got a good eye for measuring. And then he brought one or two more, but I was afraid master wouldn't be best pleased at such a lot of us, so now I go two evenings a week to Bollins, close by your place, miss," with a nod, not in the least intended to be disrespectful, in Miss Lilly's direction, "and we works in a shed there, in a field by the smithy. We got leave first, that's all right, and we fixed up a plank table and some benches, and we're as jolly as sand-boys. I've often had it in my mind to tell you, but I thought I'd better wait a bit till I had somethin' to show."
"You will tell Mr. Brock about it?" said Miss Lilly. "He will be nearly as pleased as we are—he can't be quite. I don't think I have ever been more pleased in my life, Jesse."
It was "wonderful," as Ferdy had said. Jesse Piggot, the ringleader in every sort of mischief, the "cheeky young rascal" out of one scrape into another, to have started a class for "art work" among the rough colliery boys of Draymoor!
"Oh, I do wish grandfather were back again," Eva went on. "He will help you, Jesse, in every way he possibly can, I know."