“Oh yes, Emily, if you wish it,” was Mr. Garie’s reply. “I will search out a school to-morrow, or next day;” and taking out his watch, he continued, “it is near twelve o’clock—how the night has flown away—we must be off to bed. After the excitement of the evening, and your exertions of to-day, I fear that you will be indisposed to-morrow.”
Clarence, although over nine years old, was so backward in learning, that they were obliged to send him to a small primary school which had recently been opened in the neighbourhood; and as it was one for children of both sexes, it was deemed advisable to send little Em with him.
“I do so dislike to have her go,” said her mother, as her husband proposed that she should accompany Clarence; “she seems so small to be sent to school. I’m afraid she won’t be happy.”
“Oh! don’t give yourself the least uneasiness about her not being happy there, for a more cheerful set of little folks I never beheld. You would be astonished to see how exceedingly young some of them are.”
“What kind of a person is the teacher?” asked Mrs. Garie.
“Oh! she’s a charming little creature; the very embodiment of cheerfulness and good humour. She has sparkling black eyes, a round rosy face, and can’t be more than sixteen, if she is that old. Had I had such a teacher when a boy, I should have got on charmingly; but mine was a cross old widow, who wore spectacles and took an amazing quantity of snuff, and used to flog upon the slightest pretence. I went into her presence with fear and trembling. I could never learn anything from her, and that must be my excuse for my present literary short-comings. But you need have no fear respecting Em getting on with Miss Jordan: I don’t believe she could be unkind to any one, least of all to our little darling.”
“Then you will take them down in the morning,” suggested Mrs. Garie; “but on no account leave Emily unless she wishes to stay.”
Charlie at Warmouth.
After the departure of Mrs. Bird to visit her sick friend, Betsey turned to Charlie and bid him follow her into the kitchen. “I suppose you haven’t been to breakfast,” said she, in a patronizing manner; “if you haven’t, you are just in time, as we will be done ours in a little while, and then you can have yours.”
Charlie silently followed her down into the kitchen, where a man-servant and the younger maid were already at breakfast; the latter arose, and was placing another plate upon the table, when Betsey frowned and nodded disapprovingly to her. “Let him wait,” whispered she; “I’m not going to eat with niggers.”
“Oh! he’s such a nice little fellow,” replied Eliza, in an undertone; “let him eat with us.”
Betsey here suggested to Charlie that he had better go up to the maple chamber, wash his face, and take his things out of his trunk, and that when his breakfast was ready she would call him.