The kind, forgiving spirit of the teacher, and her readiness to acknowledge her own error, completely subdued the proud heart of Ronald. He felt truly glad that he had confessed his fault. Indeed, with his present feelings, he would have cheerfully done it, of his own free will. Not only was a heavy burden removed from his mind, but he felt a new and stronger affection for his teacher, realizing the truth of the saying, that “whoever is forgiven much, will love much.”
CHAPTER VI.
LETTER-WRITING.
SEVERAL weeks had elapsed, since Oscar’s regular daily tasks were set, and he continued to discharge his duties in a satisfactory manner. The wood-pile grew a little, weekly, under his management, and the kitchen was always kept well supplied with fuel. He had become quite expert in cutting hay and feeding the cows and horses, and the latter he cleaned, harnessed and drove, with the air of a veteran horseman. The hogs, of whom he had the principal care, seemed quite contented under their new master, and rewarded his attentions with many grunts of satisfaction, if not gratitude. He had assisted cheerfully in gathering the late crops of the farm, and had even acknowledged that milking the cows was not so disagreeable work as he had imagined. His lessons, also, were for the most part well learned. To be sure they were not very hard, being mostly reviews of studies he had previously gone over. But his natural abilities as a scholar were good, and he learned easily, when he set about it in earnest. The only exercise that gave him serious trouble was the dreaded Saturday’s “composition,” which, indeed, was more terrible in anticipation than in reality.
“Isn’t it almost time to answer some of your letters, Oscar?” inquired Marcus one morning, as the former was about sitting down to his lessons.
“I suppose it is,” replied Oscar.
“Let me see,” continued Marcus, “you have had letters from your mother, and from Alice, and from Clinton—these have all got to be answered. And then you promised to write to Willie, or ‘Whistler,’ as you call him, did you not?”
“Yes,” replied Oscar.
“I’m afraid you are a rather negligent correspondent,” added Marcus. “I wouldn’t get into that habit, if I were you. While you are away from home, you will want to hear from your friends occasionally; but if you neglect them, they will be apt to neglect you.”
“But I hate to write letters,” replied Oscar.