What She Could Read online

  CHAPTER X.

  It was a soft pleasant day late in March. The snow had all gone for thepresent. Doubtless it might come back again; no one could tell; inShadywalk snow was not an unknown visitor even in April; but for thepresent no such reminder of winter was anywhere to be seen. The air wasstill and gentle; even the brown tree stems looked softer and less barethan a few weeks ago, though no bursting buds yet were there to makeany real change. The note of a bird might be heard now and then;Matilda had twice seen the glorious colour of a blue bird's wings asthey spread themselves in the light. It was quite refreshing to get outof the house and the kitchen work, and smell the fresh, pure air, andsee the sky, and feel that all the world was not between four wallsanywhere. Matilda went softly along, enjoying. At the corner sheturned, and walked up Butternut street--so called, probably, in honourof some former tree of that family, for not a shoot of one was known inthe street now. On and on she went till her church was passed, and thenturned down the little lane which led to the parsonage. The snow allgone, it was looking pretty here. On one side the old church, the newlecture-room on the other, and between them the avenue of elms, archingtheir branches over the way and making a vista, at the end of which wasthe brown door of the parsonage. Always that was a pleasant view toMatilda, for she associated the brown door with a great many things;however, this day she did not seek the old knocker which hungtemptingly overhead, but sheered off and went round to the back of thehouse; and there entered at once, and without knocking, upon MissRedwood's premises. They were in order; nobody ever saw the parsonagekitchen otherwise; and Miss Redwood was sitting in front of the stove,knitting.

  "Well, if there ain't Tilly Englefield!" was her salutation.

  "May I come in, Miss Redwood?--if you are not busy."

  "Suppos'n I _was_ busy, I guess you wouldn't do me no harm, child. Comeright in and sit down, and tell me how's all goin' on at your house.How's your mother, fust thing?"

  "Aunt Candy says she's not any better."

  "What does your mother say herself?"

  "I have not seen her to-day. Aunt Candy says she is nervous; and shewants me not to go into her room."

  "Who wants you not to go in? Not your mother?"

  "No; Aunt Candy."

  "I thought so. Well; how do you get along without your sisters, eh?Have you got a girl, or are you goin' to do without?"

  "We are going to do without."

  "I don't see how you kin, with your mother sick and wantin' somebody totend her."

  "Maria and I do what's to be done. Mamma doesn't want us to get a girl."

  "Maria and you!" said Miss Redwood, straightening up. "I want to know!You and Maria. Why, I didn't reckon Maria was a hand at them kind o'things. What can she do, eh? I want to know! Things is curious in thisworld."

  "Maria can do a good deal," said Matilda.

  "And you can, too, can't ye?" said Miss Redwood, with a benevolentsmile at her little visitor, which meant all love and no criticism.

  "I wish I knew how to do more," said Matilda. "I _could_, if I knewhow. That's what I came to ask you, Miss Redwood; won't you tell me?"

  "Tell you anything on arth," said the housekeeper. "What do you want toknow, child?"

  "I don't know," said Matilda, knitting her brow. "I want to know how to_manage_."

  Miss Redwood's lips twitched, and her knitting needles flew.

  "So there ain't no one but you to manage?" she said, at length.

  "Aunt Candy tells what is to be for breakfast and dinner. But I want toknow how to _do_ things. What can one do with cold beefsteak, MissRedwood?"

  "'Tain't good for much," said the housekeeper. "Have you got some onhand?"

  "No. We had, though."

  "And what _did_ you do with it?"

  "Maria and I put it in the oven to warm; and it spoiled the dish, andthe meat was all dried up; and then I thought I would come and ask you.And we tried to fry some potatoes this morning, and we didn't know how,I think. They were not good."

  "And so your breakfast all fell through; and there was a muss, Iexpect?"

  "No; we had eggs; nobody knew anything about the beefsteak and thedish. But I want to know how to do."

  "What ailed your potatoes?"

  "They were too hard and too brown."

  "I shouldn't wonder! I declare, I 'most think I've got into the middleof a fairy story somewhere. Did you ever hear about Cinderella, Tilly,and her little glass slipper?"

  "Oh yes."

  "Some people's chariots and horses will find themselves turned intopun'kins some day; that is what _I_ believe."

  "But about the potatoes?" said Matilda, who could not catch theconnection of this speech.

  "Well; she let 'em be in too long. That was the trouble. If you want tohave things right, you must take 'em out when they are done, honey."

  "But how can we tell when they are done?"

  "Why, you know by just lookin at 'em. There ain't no great troubleabout it; anyhow, there ain't about potatoes. You just put some fat ina pan, and chop up your potatoes, and when the fat is hot clap 'em in,and let 'em frizzle round a spell; and then when they're done you take'em up. Did you sprinkle salt in?"

  "No."

  "You must mind and sprinkle salt in, while they're in the pan; withoutthat they'll taste kind o' flat."

  "Aunt Erminia don't like them chopped up. She wants them cut in thinslices and browned on both sides."

  "Laws a massy! why don't she do 'em so, then? what hinders her?" saidthe housekeeper, looking at Matilda. "I thought she was one o' themkind o' folks as don't know nothing handy. Why don't she do her ownpotatoes, and as brown as she likes, Tilly?"

  "Mamma wants us to take care of things, Miss Redwood."

  "Won't let your aunt learn you, nother?" said Miss Redwood, stickingone end of her knitting-needle behind her ear, and slowly scratchingwith it, while she looked at Matilda.

  "Aunt Candy does not like to do anything in the kitchen; and I wouldrather you would teach me, Miss Redwood--if you would."

  "And can you learn Maria?"

  "Oh yes."

  "Well, come along; what do you want to know next?"

  "I wish you'd teach me some time how to make gingerbread. And pies."

  The housekeeper glanced at the clock, and then bade Matilda take oft'her things.

  "Now?" said Matilda, hesitating.

  "You can't do nothing any time but now," said Miss Redwood, as she putaway her work in its basket. "You can _think_ of doing it; but if youever come to doing it, you will find it is _now_."

  "But is it convenient?"

  "La, child, I don't know what people mean by convenient. You look at itone way, and there is nothing convenient; and you look at it anotherway, and there is nothing but what is. Hang your things over thatchair; and I'll put an apron on you."

  "But which way does it look this afternoon, Miss Redwood?"

  The housekeeper laughed, and kissed Tilly, whom she was arraying in agreat check apron, big enough to cover her.

  "It is just how you choose to take it," she said. "I declare I'm sorryfor the folks as is tied to convenience; they don't get the right goodof their life. Why, honey, what isn't my convenience is somebody else'sconvenience, maybe. I want it to be sunshine very often, so as I kindry my clothes, when the farmers want it to be rain to make their cornand cabbages grow. It is sure to be convenient for somebody."

  "But I want it to be convenient for you, this afternoon," said Matilda,wistfully.

  "Well, 'tis," said the housekeeper. "There--wash your hands in thatbowl, dear; and here's a clean towel for you. A body as wants to havethings convenient, had better not be a minister's housekeeper. No, theplace is nice enough," she went on, as she saw Matilda's eye glancearound the kitchen; "'tain't that; but I always think convenient meanshaving your own way; and _that_ nobody need expect to do at theparsonage. Just so sure as I make pot pie, Mr. Richmond'll hev to go toa funeral, and it's spiled or lost, for he's no time to eat it; and Inever cleaned up that hall and ste
ps yet, but an army of boots andshoes came tramping over it out of the dirt; when if it _wants_cleaning, it'll get leave to be without a foot crossing it all theafternoon. And if it's bakin' day, I have visitors, and have to runbetween them and the oven, till I don't know which end is the parlour;and that's the way, Tilly; and I don't know no better way but toconclude that somebody else's convenience is yourn--and then you'lllive in clover. The minister had to preach to me a good while before Icould see it, though. Now, honey, sift your flour;--here it is. Kin youdo it?"

  Matilda essayed to do it, and the housekeeper looked on.

  "The damper is turned," she said; "we'll have the oven hot by the timethe cake is ready. Now, dear, what's going into it?"

  "Will that be enough?" said Matilda, lifting her floury hand out of thepan.

  "_I_ want a piece," said the housekeeper; "so there had better goanother bowlful. And the minister--_he_ likes a bite of hotgingerbread, when he can get it. So shake it in, dear. That will do.Now, what are you going to put in it, Tilly, besides flour?"

  "Why, _I_ don't know," said Matilda.

  "Well, guess. What do you think goes into gingerbread?"

  "Molasses?"

  "Yes; but that goes one of the last things. Ain't you going to put noshortening in?"

  "Shortening? what is that?" said Matilda.

  "Well, it's whatever you've got. Butter'll do, if it's nice andsweet--like this is--or sweet drippings'll do, or a little sweet lard,maybe. We'll take the butter to-day, for this is going to do you and mecredit. Now think--what else? Put the butter right there, in themiddle, and rub it into the flour with the flat of your hand, so. Rubhard, dear; get the butter all in the flour, so you can't see it. Whatis to go in next?"

  "Spice? I think mamma puts spice."

  "If you like it. What spice will you choose?"

  "I don't know, Miss Redwood."

  "Well, it'd be queer gingerbread without ginger, wouldn't it?"

  "Oh yes. I forgot the ginger, to be sure. How much?"

  "That's 'cordin' as you like it. _That_ won't hardly taste, dear;'tain't just like red pepper; take a good cupful. Now just a little bitof cloves!"

  "And cinnamon?"

  "It'll be spice gingerbread, sure enough," said the housekeeper. "Andsalt, Tilly."

  "Salt? Must salt go in?" said Matilda, who had got very eager now inher work.

  "Salt's univarsal," said Miss Redwood. "'Cept sweetmeats, it goes intoeverything. That's what makes all the rest good. I never could see whatwas the use o' salt, till one day the minister, he preached a sermon on'Ye are the salt of the earth,' and ever since that it seems to kind o'put me in mind. And then I asked Mr. Richmond if _everything_ meantsomething."

  "But what does that mean, that you said?" said Matilda. "Good peopledon't make the rest of the world good."

  "They give all the taste there is to it, though," said the housekeeper."And I asked that very question myself of the minister; and what do youthink he told me."

  "What?"

  "He said it was because the salt warn't of as good quality as it hadought to be. And _that_ makes me think, too. But la! look at yourgingerbread standing still. Now see, dear here's a bowl o' buttermilkfor you; it's as rich as cream, a'most; and I take and put in aspoonful of--you know what this is?"

  "Salaeratus?"

  "That's it."

  "We use soda at our house."

  "Salaeratus is good enough for me," said Miss Redwood; "and I know whatit'll do; so I'm never put out in my calculations. Now when it foamsup--see,--now mix your cake, dear, as quick as you like.Stop--wait--let's get the molasses in. Now, go on. I declare, havingtwo pair o' hands kind o' puts one out. Stir it up; don't be afraid."

  Matilda was not afraid, and was very much in earnest. The gingerbreadwas quickly mixed, and for a few minutes there was busy work, butteringthe pans and putting the mixture in them, and setting the pans in theoven. Then Matilda washed her hands; the housekeeper put the flour andspices away; and the two sat down to watch the baking.

  "It'll be good," said the housekeeper.

  "I hope it will," said Matilda.

  "I know 'twill," said Miss Redwood. "You do your part right; and thesesort o' things--flour, and butter, and meat, and potatoes, andthat--don't never disapint you. That's one thing that is satisfactoryin this world."

  "But mamma has her cake spoiled in the oven sometimes."

  "'Twarn't the oven's fault," said Miss Redwood. "Did ye think it was?Ovens don't do that for me, never."

  "But sometimes the oven was too hot," said Matilda; "and other timesshe said it was not hot enough."

  "Of course!" said the housekeeper; "and then again other times sheforgot to look at it, maybe, and left her cake in too long. The cakecouldn't knock at the door of the oven to be let out; that'd be toomuch to ask. Now look at yourn, dear."

  Matilda opened the oven door and shut it again.

  "What's the appearance of it?"

  "It is coming up beautifully. But it isn't up in the middle yet."

  "The fire's just right," said the housekeeper.

  "But how can you _tell_, Miss Redwood?" said Matilda, standing by thestove with a most careful set of wrinkles on her little brow.

  "Tell?" said the housekeeper; "just as you tell anything else; afteryou've seen it fifty times, you know."

  Matilda began a painful calculation of how often she could makesomething to bake, and how long it would be till fifty times had madeher wise in the matter; when an inner door opened, and the ministerhimself came upon the scene. Matilda coloured, and looked a littleabashed; the housekeeper smiled.

  "I am very glad to see you here, Tilly," Mr. Richmond said, heartily."What are you and Miss Redwood doing here?"

  "We are getting ready for the business of life," said the housekeeper."The minister knows there are different ways of doin' that."

  "Just what way are you taking now?" said Mr. Richmond, laughing. "Itseems to me, you think the business of life is eating--if I may judgeby the smell of the preparation."

  "It is time you looked at your cake, Tilly," said Miss Redwood; and shedid not offer to help her; so, blushing more and more, Matilda wasobliged to open the oven door again, and show that she was actingbaker. The eyes of the two older persons met in a way that was pleasantto see.

  "What's here, Tilly?" said the minister, coming nearer and stooping tolook in himself.

  "Miss Redwood has been teaching me how to make gingerbread. O MissRedwood, it is beginning to get brown at the end."

  "Turn the pans round then. It ain't done yet."

  "No, it isn't done, for it is not quite up in the middle. There is asort of hollow place."

  "Shut up your oven, child, and it will be all right in a few minutes."

  "Then I think this is the night when you are going to stay and take teawith me," said Mr. Richmond. "I promised you a roast apple, I remember.Are there any more apples that will do for roasting, Miss Redwood?"

  "O Mr. Richmond, I do not care for the apple!" Matilda cried.

  "But if I don't have it, you will stay and take tea with me?"

  Matilda looked wistful, and hesitated. Her mother would not miss her;but could Maria get the tea without her?--

  "And I dare say you want to talk to me about something; isn't it so?"the minister continued.

  "Yes, Mr. Richmond; I do."

  "That settles it. She will stay, Miss Redwood. I shall have somegingerbread, I hope. And when you are ready, Tilly, you can come to mein my room."

  The minister quitted the kitchen in good time, for now the cakes werealmost done and needed care. A little watchful waiting, and then theplumped up, brown, glossy loaves of gingerbread said to even aninexperienced eye that it was time for them to come out of the oven.Miss Redwood showed Matilda how to arrange them on a sieve, where theywould not get steamy and moist; and Matilda's eye surveyed them therewith very great satisfaction.

  "That's as nice as if I had made it myself," said the housekeeper. "Nowdon't you want to get the ministe
r's tea?"

  "What shall I do, Miss Redwood?"

  "I thought maybe you'd like to learn how to manage something else. He'shad no dinner to-day--to speak of; and if eatin' ain't the business oflife--which it ain't, I guess, with him--yet stoppin' eatin' would stopbusiness, he'd find; and I'm goin' to frizzle some beef for his supper,and put an egg in. Now I'll cut the beef, and you can stir it, if youlike."

  Matilda liked very much. She watched the careful shaving of the beef inpaper-like fragments; then at the housekeeper's direction she put somebutter in a pan on the fire, and when it was hot threw the beef in andstirred it back and forward with a knife, so as not to let it burn, andso as to bring all the shavings of beef in contact with the hot panbottom, and into the influence of the boiling butter. At the moment ofits being done, the housekeeper broke an egg or two into the pan; andthen in another moment bade Matilda take it from the fire and turn itout. Meanwhile Miss Redwood had cut bread and made the tea.

  "Now you can go and call the minister," she said.

  Matilda thought she was having the rarest of pleasant times, as shecrossed the little dining-room and the square yard of hall that camenext, and went into the study. Fire Was burning in the wide chimneythere as usual; the room was very sweet and still; Mr Richmond satbefore the fire with a book.

  "I thought you were coming to talk to me, Tilly?" he said, stretchingout his hand to draw her up to him.

  "Miss Redwood was showing me how to do things, Mr. Richmond."

  "Then you _do_ want to talk to me?"

  "Oh yes, sir. But, Mr. Richmond, tea is ready."

  "We'll eat first then, and talk afterward. What is the talk to beabout, Tilly? just to give me an idea."

  "It is about--I do not know what is right about something, Mr.Richmond. I do not know what I ought to do."

  "Have you looked in the Bible to find out?"

  "No, sir. I didn't know where to look, Mr. Richmond."

  "Have you prayed about it?"

  Matilda hesitated, but finally said again, "No."

  "That is another thing you can always do. The Lord understands yourdifficulties better than any one else can, and knows just what answerto give you."

  "But--an answer? will He give it always?"

  "Always provided you are perfectly willing to take it, whatever it maybe; and provided you do your part."

  "What is my part?"

  "If I sent you to find your way along a road you did not know, wherethere were guide posts set up; what would be your part to do?"

  "To mind the guide posts?"

  "Yes, and go on as they bade you. That is not to prevent your askingsomebody you meet on the road, if you are going right? Now Miss Redwoodhas rung her bell, and you and I must obey it."

  "But, what are the guide posts, Mr. Richmond?"

  "We will see about that after tea. Come."

  Matilda gave one wondering thought to the question how Maria and teawould get along without her at home; and then she let all that go, andresolved to enjoy the present while she had it. Certainly it was verypleasant to take tea with Mr. Richmond. He was so very kind, andattentive to her wants; and so amusing in his talk; and the newgingerbread looked so very handsome, piled up in the cake basket; andMiss Redwood was such a variety after Mrs. Candy. Matilda let care go.And when it came to eating the gingerbread, it was found to beexcellent. Mr. Richmond said he wished she would come often and makesome for him.

  "Do you know there is a meeting of the Band this evening?"

  "I had forgotten about it, Mr. Richmond; I have been so busy."

  "It is lucky you came to take tea with me, then," said he. "Perhaps youwould have forgotten it altogether. What is Maria doing?"

  "She is busy at home, Mr. Richmond."

  "I am sorry for that. To-night is the night for questions; I amprepared to receive questions from everybody. Have you got yours ready?"

  "About Band work, Mr. Richmond?"

  "Yes, about Band work. Though you know that is only another name forthe Lord's work, whatever it may be that He gives us to do. Now we willgo to my study and attend to the business we were talking about."

  So they left Miss Redwood to her tea-table; and the minister and hislittle guest found themselves alone again.

  "Now, Tilly, what is it?" he said, as he shut the door.

  "Mr. Richmond," said Matilda, anxiously, "I want to know if I must mindwhat Aunt Erminia says?"

  "Mrs. Candy?" said Mr. Richmond, looking surprised.

  "Yes, sir."

  "The question is, whether you must obey her?"

  "Yes, sir."

  "I should say, if you doubt about any of her commands, you had betterask your mother, Tilly."

  "But I cannot see my mother, Mr. Richmond; that is one of the things.Mamma is sick, and aunt Candy has forbidden me to go into her room.Must I stay out?"

  "Is your mother so ill?"

  "No, sir, I do not think she is; I don't know; but Aunt Candy says sheis nervous; and I must not go in there without leave." And Matildaraised appealing eyes to the minister.

  "That is hard, Tilly. I am very sorry to hear it. But I am of opinionthat the authority of nurses must not be disputed. I think if Mrs.Candy says stay out, you had better stay out."

  "And everything else?" said Matilda. "Must I mind what she says ineverything else?"

  "Are you under her orders, Matilda?"

  "That is what I want to know, Mr. Richmond. She says so. She told menot to go out to church last Sunday night; and all the others weregoing, and I went too; and she scolded about it and said I must mindher. Must I? in everything? I can't ask mamma."

  Mr. Richmond turned a paper-weight over and over two or three timeswithout speaking.

  "You know what the fifth commandment is, Tilly."

  "Yes, Mr. Richmond. But she is not my mother."

  "Don't you think she is in your mother's place just now? Would not yourmother wish that your obedience should be given to your aunt for thepresent?"

  Matilda looked grave, not to say gloomy.

  "I can tell you what will make it easy," said Mr. Richmond. "Do it forthe sake of the Lord Jesus. He set us an example of obedience to alllawful authorities; He has commanded us to live in peace with everybodyas far as we possibly can; and to submit ourselves to one another inthe fear of God. Besides that, I must think, Tilly, the command to obeyour parents means also that we should obey whoever happens to stand inour parents' place to us. Will it not make it easy to obey your aunt,if you think that you are doing it to please God?"

  "Yes, Mr. Richmond," Matilda said, thoughtfully.

  "I always feel that God's command sweetens anything," the minister wenton. "Do you feel so?"

  "I think I do," the little girl answered.

  "So if you stay at home for Mrs. Candy's command, you may reflect thatit is for Jesus' sake; and that will please Him a great deal betterthan your going to church to please yourself."

  "Yes, Mr. Richmond," Matilda said, cheerfully.

  "Was that all you had to talk to me about?"

  "Yes, sir; all except about Band work."

  "We will talk about that in the meeting. If you have a question to ask,write it here; and I will take it in and answer it."

  He gave Matilda paper and pen, and himself put on his overcoat. Thentaking her little slip of a question, the two went together into thelecture-room.