Maid Sally Part 10

Yes, the back came high above her head, and as she sat wondering how she should ever go to Slipside Row and meet Mistress Cory Ann, she slid off to Dreamland, her pretty head drooping to one side, her rosy lips parted.

Then as it grew later, but was still quite light, good Parson Kendall walked out in his orchard, and in his walk stopped before the rustic seat under the branching tree.

"What a personable child it is!" he muttered. "Some youthful wayfarer well tired out. I wonder who she may be? I know not her countenance at all."

When Sally opened her eyes, oh! oh! oh! there stood the parson, in black coat, black waistcoat, black knee-breeches, black stockings, and sober face.

Little people were much afraid of the parson in those days, and in fact he was held in high respect, if not some fear, by people all, and Sally would almost have fallen from the chair in fright, only that Parson Kendall's voice was soft and kind, as he asked:

"Prithee, little one, where is thy home, and art thou very tired?"

"Speak up!" cried her Fairy, "tell the truth."

"I was afraid to go home, sir," said Sally.

"Hast thou done wrong, my child?"

"I meant not to do wrong," said Sally, "but I ran away."

"Ah, how was that? Tell me the truth about it."

And trembling in every limb, with eyes cast down, poor little Sally stammered out the whole story: her longing, her determination, her fine chance, Mistress Brace's refusal to let her go, and now her fear of returning home.

"I will go with thee to Slipside Row," said the parson, "and do not fear, thou shalt not suffer in any way."

And now again, had Sally been a well-taught child, she would have known how mean a thing it was to listen to what might be said in the keeping-room. But when the parson said to Mistress Cory Ann, "I would have speech with thee, Mistress Brace," up crept Sally to a room over the keeping-room, and lying flat on the floor, with her ear to a large crack under the window, she could hear nearly all that was said.

Sally had been surprised at the many low curtseys Mistress Cory Ann made when the parson came up to the door, and at the look of fear that had come over her face. Yes, Mistress Brace had indeed looked afraid!

Now Sally heard Parson Kendall say:

"But had you any right to make of the child almost a servant when she was left so sadly alone?"

"It was that or the Town House," said Mistress Brace, shortly.

"Perhaps not," said the parson's calm, firm voice; "our town sendeth not all to the Town House who are poor or unfortunate. Had her father no friends? And was there no money left?"

"I know nothing of her father's friends," said Mistress Brace, "and as to money, very little there was of that, and it has been spent on the girl."

Ah, but the woman's voice had trembled when she spoke of the money, and her face grew very red, so that the parson, knowing something must be wrong, said, sternly:

"I had better lay the case before the burgesses. If the little wench so greatly desireth knowledge, then knowledge she should have. It is my duty to look after an orphan child of my parish, who seemeth not to be having the chances she should have."

The dreadful word "burgesses," meaning the men in power, and who governed the colonies, frightened both Mistress Brace and Maid Sally, and very glad was Sally when Mistress Cory Ann exclaimed:

"There be no need, parson, to trouble any of the burgesses! Here the girl has been, here she can stay. If she so much has set her heart on learning, then go she can to Mistress Kent and earn her schooling as the mistress has planned. But I like it not that the girl should run away, not telling me whither she was going."

"She said all was explained, but that you refused to enter into the plan," said the parson.

"I did not fully understand about it," said Mistress Brace, and so mild was her tone that Sally was again much surprised. "Let things take their course," she added, "and twice a week the girl can go where she likes and I will lay no rule against it. Then she can still help betimes."

"We will leave it that way for the present," said the parson, as he seemed to be rising to go, "but no blame is to be laid upon the child for telling what she did. I saw that she was in trouble and asked the cause. She did no wrong to answer truthfully. I shall now feel it my duty to see that the young maid hath a fair chance to learn what good Mistress Kent knoweth full well how to impart. I wish thee good day, Mistress Brace."

Sally scudded away, her eyes fairly dancing with joy.

"Fairy! O Fairy!" she cried under her breath, "a fine dream has come true! I shall go to Mistress Kent and learn! learn! learn! Blessings on thee, good parson! I would like to thank thee."

"Be wise and let not any one know what you have overheard," warned her Fairy.

"Indeed, I shall know nothing at all," laughed Sally, "until Mistress Cory Ann says to me I can go schooling twice a week;" and Sally's eyes sparkled like fire.

When Sat.u.r.day came, but not until then, Mistress Cory Ann said, with a scornful toss of her head:

"Since you think it so fine a thing to dabble in books, and choose to fill your head with what others have got along plenty well without, I care not where you go this afternoon, but mind you show smartness at other times, or the twice-a-week trips will cease."

That was all, and that was enough. Sally knew now that her pet dream was to work itself out beautifully.

She had a few pence earned by mending, and at Goodman Chatfield's store she begged to know if ninepence would buy a decent pair of stockings.

"Indeed, no, a s.h.i.+lling is the least that will buy stockings of any kind," said storeman Chatfield, who in very truth liked to chatter. "But I am much wanting an errand done at the Cloverlove plantation, and if you would do it, I will, with the ninepence, give a pair of hosen that will stand you well."

It was half a mile to Cloverlove plantation, and half a mile back, but Sally gladly did the errand, and ran home happy as any bird with a smart new pair of stockings tucked under her arm.

CHAPTER X.

PROGRESS

Mistress Kent was willing to confess, after a few weeks, that many bright children had come to her to be taught, but never had there come a child more swift to learn than Maid Sally Dukeen. She learned in fact as though her beautiful little ringlets held each a cell in which to hide the things she was all the time finding out.

Before the winter term of school began she could read well, and also write and spell. No need to urge attention with the little maid; the only thing needed was to hold her back.

Every evening except Wednesday and Sat.u.r.day, as soon as her supper was eaten, over to Mistress Kent's raced Sally, the books the mistress had lent her under her arm, and her lessons so perfectly learned that the good teacher wondered when she found time for so much study.

Had she peeped into Mistress Brace's house almost any day she would have known. When Sally went to bed a book was under her pillow, for there would be a little time for study before she got up in the morning. While dressing, she was busy spelling as well. And while the dishes were being washed, a book was before her on shelf or window-sill.

Sally managed to study midst the clattering of dishes and the swish of a broom. For Mistress Cory Ann thought not much of the books, and minded not how much noise she made while the poor child was conning a lesson, but she dared not stop her. Sally had found out that the parson would be her friend should trouble arise, and the parson and the burgesses were powers that Mistress Cory Ann dared not trifle with.

When it grew chilly, muddy, or it might be a little frosty, Sally bought herself a pair of gum shoes, for with all her extra studying she yet found time for mending and darning, so earning a little all the time.

She also bought a good shawl, which kept her nice and warm.

And when she said, "I need a decent hat; I wonder would the parson help me to get one," Mistress Brace bade her keep away and not go bothering the parson. Then before the next week she got for Sally a poke bonnet that was both warm and sightly.

Keen little Sally would not have gone to the parson; she was too proud to beg a single penny's worth, but she had found a new way of getting around Mistress Cory Ann since she had seen all that curtseying to the parson.

Then something else that was beautiful happened to Sally, that filled the little maid's heart with joy and gladness.