The Widow O'Callaghan's Boys Part 15

"I'll be askin' the teacher, so I will," he thought.

That morning at recess, a small, red-headed, belligerent-looking boy, with a pair of mischievous blue eyes, went up to Miss Sloc.u.m's desk. But the eyes were not mischievous now. They were very earnest as they gazed up into his teacher's face.

"Plaze, ma'am, will you be sayin': I'll be larnin' it yet, so I will?"

Miss Sloc.u.m was surprised. "What did you say, Jim?" she asked.

"Plaze, ma'am, will you say: I'll be larnin' it yet, so I will?"

Miss Sloc.u.m smiled, and obligingly repeated, "I'll be larnin' it yet, so I will."

"No," said Jim. "That's the way I said it. Say it right."

"Say it right!" exclaimed Miss Sloc.u.m.

"Yes, say it like the grammar book."

"Oh," said Miss Sloc.u.m wonderingly. "I _will_ learn it yet. Is that what you wanted?"

"Yes, ma'am. Will you be tellin' me some more when I want to know it?"

"Certainly," responded the gratified teacher, whereat Jim went away satisfied. He smiled to himself knowingly, as he caught sight of Andy at a distance on the campus. "I'll not be askin' him nayther," he said. "I _will_ learn it yet."

As for Pat, he went to the store that same morning a trifle disconsolate. He was fond of trade, but he knew almost nothing of dry goods; and here was his mother counseling him to improve his speech, and holding up to him the warning that his own inefficiency might lose him his place.

"Well, I know how to sweep and dust, anyway," he thought as he unlocked the store door, went in and took up his broom. As thoroughly as before he went over everything, but much more quickly, not having the acc.u.mulated s.h.i.+ftlessness of former boys to contend with. And Mr.

Farnham, on his arrival, found everything spotless.

Customers at Pat's department that day found a very silent clerk, but one eager to oblige. Many times before he went home for the night did he display every piece of goods in his charge, and that with such an evident wish to please, that his sales were considerable. And the widow heard his report at bedtime with something like satisfaction.

"And what did you say to make 'em buy?" she inquired.

"Well, mother, I mostly didn't say anything. I didn't know what to say, and I couldn't say it right, neither, and so I just watched, and if they so much as turned their eyes on a piece, I got it out of the pile and showed it to 'em. I just wished with all my might to sell to 'em, and I sold to 'em."

His mother's eyes were fixed on him, and she nodded her head approvingly. "Sure and if you couldn't do no better, that was good enough, so 'twas," was her comment. "You'll larn. But didn't n.o.body say nothin' to you?"

"They did, mother, of course."

"And who was they that spoke to you and what about?"

"Well, mother, there was old Mrs. Barter, for one. She's awful stingy.

I've seen her more than once in the groceries. Always a-wantin'

everything a little lower, and grumblin' because the quality wasn't good. Them grocers' clerks mostly hates her, I believe. And they don't want to wait on her, none of 'em. 'Twas her, I'm told, washed up two or three of them wooden b.u.t.ter dishes and took 'em up and wanted to sell 'em back to them she got her b.u.t.ter from."

"Ah!" said Mrs. O'Callaghan, with her eyes sympathetically upon her son.

"And she was to buy of you to-day, was she?"

"Yes, mother."

"And did she buy anything?"

"She did."

"What was it?"

"A calico dress."

"And how come she to do it?"

"I don't know. She begun by lookin' everything over and runnin'

everything down. And at last she took hold of a piece, and says she, 'Come, young man, I've seen you a-buyin' more than once. Can you tell me this is a good piece that won't fade?' 'I can, ma'am,' says I. 'You won't find no better in town.'

"'Ah! but you're sellin',' says she. 'Would you tell your mother the same?' And she looked at me sharp.

"'I would, ma'am,' says I.

"'Then I'll take it,' says she. 'I've not watched you for nothin'.'"

"And then what?" asked Mrs. O'Callaghan eagerly. This, in her opinion, was a triumph for Pat.

"Why, nothin', mother, only I wrapped it up and give it to her, and I says, Come again, ma'am,' and she says, 'I will, young man, you may depend.'"

The little woman regarded him proudly. But all she said was: "When you're doin' well, Pat, the thing is to see if you can't do better. You had others a-buyin' of you to-day, I hope?"

"Yes, mother."

"'Tis too late to hear about it to-night, for 'tis good sleep that sharpens the wits. And the broightest wits will bear that koind of sharpening', so they will. I wouldn't be knowin' what to do half the time if it wasn't for sleepin' good of nights. And, by the same token, if any of them high-steppin' clerks comes around with a cigar and a-wantin' you to go here and yon of nights, jist remimber that your wits is your stock in trade, and Mr. Farnham's not wantin' dull wans about him, nayther."

Thus having headed off any designs that might be had upon Pat, his mother went to sharpen her own wits for whatever the morrow might have in store for her.

And now a change began to come over Jim. He left his younger brothers in unhectored peace. He had not much to say, but ever he watched Andy from the corner of a jealous eye, and listened for him to speak. All his pugnacity was engaged in what seemed to be a profitless struggle with the speech of the grammar. "I _will_ larn it yet," he repeated over and over. And even while the words were in his mouth, if he had had less obstinacy in his make-up, he would have yielded himself to despair. But a good thing happened to him. Miss Sloc.u.m, not knowing his ign.o.ble motive, and seeing a very earnest child striving to improve himself, set about helping him in every possible way.

One day she called him to her. "Jim," she said, "asking me questions is slow work. Suppose I correct you every time you make a mistake?"

"Yes, ma'am," answered Jim vaguely, not knowing the meaning of _correct_.

"You don't understand me?"

"No, ma'am."

"_Correct_ means to make right. Suppose I set you right whenever you go wrong?"

"That's it!" cried Jim enthusiastically. "That's it! I can larn that way sure."

"_Learn_, not _larn_, Jim."

Jim looked at her. "'Tis learn and not larn I'll be sayin'," he declared.