Displayed on hooks upon the wall in all their terrors, were the cane and ruler; and near them, on a small shelf of its own, the dunce's cap, made of old newspapers and decorated with glaring wafers of the largest size.But, the great ornaments of the walls were certain moral sentences fairly copied in good round text, and well-worked sums in simple addition and multiplication, evidently achieved by the same hand, which were plentifully pasted all round the room: for the double purpose, as it seemed, of bearing testimony to the excellence of the school, and kindling a worthy emulation in the bosoms of the scholars.
'Yes,' said the old schoolmaster, observing that her attention was caught by these latter specimens.'That's beautiful writing, my dear.'
'Very, Sir,' replied the child modestly, 'is it yours?'
'Mine!' he returned, taking out his spectacles and putting them on, to have a better view of the triumphs so dear to his heart.'Icouldn't write like that, now-a-days.No.They're all done by one hand; a little hand it is, not so old as yours, but a very clever one.'
As the schoolmaster said this, he saw that a small blot of ink had been thrown on one of the copies, so he took a penknife from his pocket, and going up to the wall, carefully scraped it out.When he had finished, he walked slowly backward from the writing, admiring it as one might contemplate a beautiful picture, but with something of sadness in his voice and manner which quite touched the child, though she was unacquainted with its cause.
'A little hand indeed,' said the poor schoolmaster.'Far beyond all his companions, in his learning and his sports too, how did he ever come to be so fond of me! That I should love him is no wonder, but that he should love me--' and there the schoolmaster stopped, and took off his spectacles to wipe them, as though they had grown dim.
'I hope there is nothing the matter,sir,' said Nell anxiously.
'Not much, my dear,' returned the schoolmaster.'I hoped to have seen him on the green to-night.He was always foremost among them.
But he'll be there to-morrow.'
'Has he been ill?' asked the child, with a child's quick sympathy.
'Not very.They said he was wandering in his head yesterday, dear boy, and so they said the day before.But that's a part of that kind of disorder; it's not a bad sign--not at all a bad sign.'
The child was silent.He walked to the door, and looked wistfully out.The shadows of night were gathering, and all was still.
'If he could lean upon anybody's arm, he would come to me, I know,'
he said, returning into the room.'He always came into the garden to say good night.But perhaps his illness has only just taken a favourable turn, and it's too late for him to come out, for it's very damp and there's a heavy dew.it's much better he shouldn't come to-night.'
The schoolmaster lighted a candle, fastened the window-shutter, and closed the door.But after he had done this, and sat silent a little time, he took down his hat, and said he would go and satisfy himself, if Nell would sit up till he returned.The child readily complied, and he went out.
She sat there half-an-hour or more, feeling the place very strange and lonely, for she had prevailed upon the old man to go to bed, and there was nothing to be heard but the ticking of an old clock, and the whistling of the wind among the trees.When he returned, he took his seat in the chimney corner, but remained silent for a long time.At length he turned to her, and speaking very gently, hoped she would say a prayer that night for a sick child.
'My favourite scholar!' said the poor schoolmaster, smoking a pipe he had forgotten to light, and looking mournfully round upon the walls.'It is a little hand to have done all that, and waste away with sickness.It is a very, very little hand!'