Nathalie’s tears flowed unrestrainedly for a moment and then, feeling somewhat better for the overflow, and a little ashamed of useless tears as she always called them, she withdrew from the friendly shelter and sat up. “Oh, it’s just nothing at all, Helen,” she cried in a choked voice, “only that I’m a great baby—and then—I’m tired”—her voice quavered. “I’m tired of washing dishes and sweeping—” a sniffle—“all the time.”
“Of course you are tired, who wouldn’t be, Nat, with all the wonderful things you’ve done this last week?” sympathized Helen; “considering, too, that it’s all new to you. Why, Mother says you are going to make a splendid Pioneer.”
“Oh, did she?” asked Nathalie, her eyes brightening. “It makes one feel good to be praised, I have felt so discouraged,” with an intake of her breath, “for I’ve tried so hard to do everything I could, and then Mother, why she hasn’t said one word of praise since the first day. Everybody just takes it all—all the work I do—just as if it was nothing, and things drag so. Of course I don’t expect to be praised all the time,” she hastened to add, “but oh, I don’t seem to feel as happy about working as I did at first.”
“Oh, well, you’re tired,” replied Helen condolingly. “I know just how you feel, for I used to feel the same way when I first began to help Mother around the house. You see the enthusiasm and the glory have all gone out of it.”
“The enthusiasm and the glory?” repeated Nathalie in puzzled inquiry.
“Yes, the novelty of doing something new is the enthusiasm that put you on the job; and the praise you got for doing it—which made you feel as if you were awfully good—that’s the glory. But when things get stale and people stop saying how smart you are and so on, why then it will be just plain duty all through. You know, the frosting always comes first before we get to the cake.”
“Oh, I suppose that has something to do with it,” responded Nathalie alertly, “when one comes to think of it. So from now on it will be just plain duty, won’t it?” with a quiver of her chin, for somehow the prospect was not an enjoyable one at that moment.
“Yes, that’s about the size of it,” was the practical answer. “But if you keep right on doing what you ought to, you’ll get something better than the sugary stuff. Just keep Miss I Can for your friend, and then after a time you will find that you like to do the very things that at first seemed so hard. Experience, Mother says, brings knowledge, and knowledge puts you in the end where you want to be.”
“I wish it would,” exclaimed Nathalie, her eyes flashing with sudden hope, “for oh, Helen, I do so want to know things, that is the useful arts, for I am so eager to learn how to make money the way you are doing! You know I have told you all about Dick, Helen,” she lowered her voice, “I think it is just that, seeing the poor fellow striving to earn a little money so he can be made well again, that makes me so down-hearted, for I feel that I am not doing a thing to help him.”
“But you are helping him, and your mother, too, Nathalie,” said Helen. “By the very work you are doing you are helping your mother to save money, that ought to be something to comfort you.”