THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES
 
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 ffiftr ffiamr (Eurtlr. jFrontlspfetf. 
 
 'Well' so you bave got home at last!" p. 30.
 
 THE TAME TURTLE; 
 
 OK, 
 
 GEORDIE MCGREGOR'S TROUBLE. 
 
 LUCY ELLEN GUERNSEY, 
 
 AUTHOR OF 
 
 'IRISH AMY," "OPPOSITE NEIGHBOURS," " COMFORT ALLISON," "NELLY,' 
 
 " TWIN ROSES," " ETHEL'S TRIAL," " THE FAIRCHILDS," " THE 
 
 SUNDAY-SCHOOL EXHIBITION," " PERCY'S HOLIDAYS," " THE 
 
 RED PLANT," n ON THS MOUNTAIN," "CLARIBEL," 
 
 "JENNY AND THE INSECTS," "RHODA'S 
 
 EDUCATION," ETC., BTO, 
 
 PHILADELPHIA : 
 
 AMERICAN SUNDAY-SCHOOL UNION, 
 No. 1122 CHESTNUT STKEET. 
 
 NEW YORK : Nos. 8 AND 10 BIBLE HOUSE, ASTOB PLACE.
 
 fnUrtd according to Act of Congress, in the year 187S, by the 
 
 AMERICAN SUNDAY-SCHOOL UNION, 
 In the Office, of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington. 
 
 WESTCOTT & THOMSON, HENRY B. ABBMEAD, 
 
 Sttrtotyptrt and Electrotype, rhilada. Prlnttr. PUlada,
 
 TZT 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 MM 
 
 OFF THE TRACK... 7 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 AUNT CLARKE 23 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 THE KNIFE 36 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 MR. MAYNARD 59 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 MDNQO 80 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 THE COVERED DISH 95 
 
 1 * 5
 
 6 CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 PA6K 
 
 A TKIP TO MILBY 122 
 
 CHAPTER VIH. 
 THE EXPLANATION 155 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 AND LAST.... ,. 185
 
 THE TAME TURTLE. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 OFF THE TRACK. 
 
 EOEGE McGREGOR had been 
 
 s P en ding the afternoon in the 
 village of Caneota, whither he 
 had gone to do some errands for 
 his aunt, with whom he lived. He had 
 bought a basketful of groceries of differ- 
 ent kinds, he had put fifty dollars in the 
 savings bank for his aunt, and he had 
 bought a pair of boots for himself. He 
 was now on his .way home on the cars, 
 intending to go as far as the Springs, 
 from which place he expected to be able 
 to " catch a ride," either with the mail- 
 carrier or some one else who might be 
 over from Boonville.
 
 8 THE TAME TURTLE. 
 
 As George or Geordie, as he was 
 usually called went through the cars 
 looking for a seat, a very beautiful and 
 elegantly dressed young girl made room 
 for him beside her by taking up her bag 
 and parcels. 
 
 "Thank you, ma'am," said George, 
 like a polite little fellow, as he was ; " but 
 I am afraid I shall crowd you with my 
 basket." 
 
 "Not at all," replied Miss Thurston. 
 "You can set the basket on the floor 
 under our feet. You know people must 
 help one another if they are to get on 
 comfortably together." 
 
 "Some people think they do enough 
 if they help themselves," observed 
 Geordie. "They say, if they take care 
 of themselves, they do all that any one 
 has any right to expect of them." 
 
 " And what do you think about it ?" 
 
 " I think it is very nice to be able to 
 help one's self," said Geordie, with a lit- 
 tle sigh, " because then one can help
 
 OFF THE TRACK. 9 
 
 other people too. If you depend on 
 other folks, you never have anything of 
 your own to give away." 
 
 " Very true. It is always best to help 
 ourselves in that way as far as possible. 
 Still, there are some things for which we 
 must always be dependent on others ' 
 kindness, and pleasant words and looks." 
 
 "I think it is very nice to be depend- 
 ent for such things," said Geordie. " I 
 think " And then he stopped, rather 
 abashed at finding himself talking so 
 freely to a strange young lady. 
 
 "Well, you think what?" asked Miss 
 Thurston. 
 
 " I think it is pleasant to take things 
 from people when they give them kindly, 
 and as if they did it because they liked 
 you and were glad to make you happy ; 
 but when they seem to grudge what they 
 give, and act all the time as if they 
 wished there were no such person, then 
 it isn't nice at all." 
 
 " Very true, my boy. But let me tell
 
 10 THE TAME TURTLE. 
 
 you one thing. But first, what is your 
 name ?" 
 
 " Geordie, ma'am Geordie McGregor." 
 
 " Well, Geordie, let me tell you one 
 thing, and that is, that we should not be 
 too ready to think that people grudge 
 what they do for us, even when their 
 manners are not the most agreeable in 
 the world. Grown people, especially 
 those who have to work for a living, 
 have trials of temper and vexations 
 which children know nothing about." 
 
 " I know," answered Geordie, blush- 
 ing ; " but then there is a great deal of 
 difference in people." 
 
 " Very true, my dear." 
 
 " My father used to work very hard ; 
 and I am sure he had a great deal to 
 vex him," continued Geordie, " because 
 very often he did not get his salary 
 when it was due, and he hardly had 
 comfortable clothes sometimes ; and often, 
 when he was most anxious to do the peo- 
 ple good, he couldn't succeed at all,
 
 OFF THE TRACK. 11 
 
 and that made him feel worse than any- 
 thing ; and yet I can't remember that I 
 ever saw him cross or heard him say a 
 word to hurt any one's feelings." 
 
 " He must have been an excellent man. 
 What was his profession ?" 
 
 " He was a missionary to the Indians 
 out in Minnesota. He and my mother 
 both died there." 
 
 " So you are an orphan ? Who takes 
 care of you ?" 
 
 " My aunt, Mrs. Clarke. I have only 
 lived with her six months. Before that, 
 I lived with a half-breed family who be- 
 longed to father's church." 
 
 " And how did you get on with them ?" 
 asked Miss Thurston. 
 
 " Oh, nicely," answered Geordie. " Of 
 course it was pretty rough. They don't 
 learn white folks' ways very easily ; and 
 when they do, they mix a good deal ot 
 Indian with them. Marie Choquette 
 never strained her milk till I told her 
 how mother used to do it, and then she
 
 12 THE TAME TUKTLE. 
 
 would take any old rag she could find; 
 so the straining didn't do much good. 
 But they were very good to me. Michael 
 Choquette taught me to shoot and fish 
 and make baskets and mokuks." 
 
 " What are mokuks ?" asked Miss 
 Thurston. 
 
 At that moment the cars stopped with 
 a sudden jar which threw the passengers 
 off their seats. 
 
 " What's that?" asked Geordie. 
 
 " Off the track, I fancy," said a gen- 
 tleman opposite. 
 
 " Yes, we're off the track at least the 
 engine is," said the conductor, when 
 questioned. 
 
 " And how long shall we have to stay 
 here ?" asked several people. 
 
 " That is more than I can say maybe 
 an hour, maybe longer. I have sent a 
 man on to telegraph for help, and all we 
 can do is to sit still and wait till it comes. 
 It's rather vexatious, but there's no dan- 
 ger."
 
 OFF THE TRACK. 13 
 
 "That being the case, Geordie, you 
 and I may as well improve our time and 
 make ourselves comfortable," said Miss 
 Thurston, producing her tatting from 
 her travelling-bag. " I should like to 
 hear more about your life in Minnesota 
 and with your Indian friends. But tell 
 me first what you mean by a mokuk. I 
 never heard the word before." 
 
 " A mokuk is a sort of basket, or rather 
 box, made of birch bark, to hold berries 
 or sugar or rice wild "rice, you know. 
 Some are quite large and some are small 
 enough to go in your pocket. Some- 
 times the squaws work them with porcu- 
 pine quills, and make them very pretty. 
 The mission Indian women used to make 
 very nice ones and fill them with the 
 best maple sugar, and then take them to 
 church when there was a collection and 
 put them on the plate, because, you know, 
 they hardly ever have any money. 
 Aunt Clarke says the missionaries ought 
 to be ashamed to take them, but I don't
 
 14 THE TAME TUETLE. 
 
 think so. It was a real pleasure to the 
 poor things to give, if they hadn't much. 
 They liked to feel that they were doing 
 something for the church, you see." 
 
 " I dare say you are right. So you 
 learned to make these things ?" 
 
 "Yes, ma'am, and to hunt and fish 
 and swim and run on snow-shoes. Oh 
 how I would like to get on snow-shoes 
 once more ! 1 wish I was back there," 
 added Geordie, more as if speaking 
 to himself than*to his companion. " I'd 
 find some way to make a living, I know." 
 
 " But didn't you have any school ?" 
 asked Miss Thurston. 
 
 " No, ma'am ; that was the worst of 
 it. As long as my father lived he al- 
 ways found time to teach me, and I 
 began to learn Latin with him, because 
 he said he hoped I might some time be 
 a minister and come to preach to his 
 poor Indians when he was taken from 
 them ; but I am afraid there isn't much 
 chance of that," added Geordie, sadly.
 
 OFF THE TRACK. 15 
 
 " Why not ?" asked Miss Thurston. 
 
 " Oh, because Aunt Clarke can't afford 
 to send me to college, and she says I 
 can't go to school much longer. Aunt 
 Clarke doesn't believe in missions, either. 
 She says there is no sense in them, and 
 that folks can find good enough to do at 
 home in their own towns and families, 
 without running about the world after 
 the heathen. And she says the folks that 
 are always running after foreign missions 
 never do anything for poor folks at home, 
 and that they neglect their own families." 
 
 " And do you think that is true ?" 
 
 " No, ma'am. My mother and father 
 never neglected me, I am sure, though 
 they did not have much to give me. 
 And I am certain that the ladies of the 
 mission society in our church don't 
 neglect their families. I don't know any 
 children that have any better times than 
 the Dennisons and Parsons and Mary 
 Badger." - 
 
 " I believe you are quite right, Geordie.
 
 16 THE TAME TURTLE. 
 
 Moreover, if you could examine the 
 records of the different churches through- 
 out the country, you would find that 
 those churches and societies which do the 
 most for missions are precisely those which 
 accomplish the most work and contrib- 
 ute the most money for objects at home. 
 But, Geordie, you must not give up so 
 easily. Don't you wish to do as your 
 %ther did ?" 
 
 " Yes, ma'am," replied Geordie, hang- 
 ing down his head ; " but I am afraid 
 I shall never be able to. I never shall 
 be good enough, for one thing. When 
 I lived at home, I used to think it was 
 pretty easy to be good, but now " 
 
 " Now you have more temptations, I 
 dare say," said Miss Thurston; "but, 
 Geordie, you know you cannot make 
 yourself good anywhere. Are not the 
 same heavenly Father and Saviour and 
 Holy Spirit here that were in Minnesota ?" 
 
 " I suppose they are," answered Geor- 
 die, " but it doesn't seem so. Sometimes
 
 OFF THE TRACK. 17 
 
 it seems as if he had forgotten all about 
 me." 
 
 "Are you sure it is not the other 
 way ? Haven't you forgotten him ?" 
 
 Geordie hung his head. 
 
 " It is all so different," he said. " In- 
 deed, I do try to be a good boy, but I 
 don't have any help, somehow. Aunt 
 Clarke means to be good to me, and she is 
 good to me, but she is not like my father 
 and mother." 
 
 " Don't you go to Sunday-school ?" 
 
 " Yes, ma'am." 
 
 "And to church?" 
 
 " Not all the time." 
 
 "Why not?" 
 
 " Because I don't know as I can 
 tell." 
 
 " Then there is at least one help with- 
 in your reach that you haven't used. 
 You have a Bible, I suppose ?" 
 
 " Yes, ma'am. I have got one of my 
 own, and Aunt Clarke has all father's 
 books up in the garret." 
 
 2*
 
 18 THE TAME TURTLE. 
 
 " And besides that, you have the Holy 
 Spirit ready and waiting to help you 
 wanting to help you. What more do 
 you need than God's word, his promises, 
 his presence, and his hand ? I am 
 afraid you have forgotten a little of your 
 father's teaching, haven't you ?" 
 
 Geordie was silent a moment. Then 
 he said, earnestly, 
 
 " If I could only feel as if he really 
 cared as if he wanted me to be good 
 and to be a minister, as father was I 
 would never give up trying as long as I 
 lived, whether I had any one to help me 
 or not." 
 
 " Well, why can't you feel it, as long 
 as he says so ? Don't you think he tells 
 the truth ?" 
 
 " Yes, of course," answered Geordie, 
 rather shocked. 
 
 " Well, doesn't he say that he is more 
 willing to give good gifts to his children 
 than earthly parents are to give their 
 little ones food? Doesn't he say that
 
 OFF THE TRACK. 19 
 
 he never fails them that seek him? 
 Why, I could not repeat all his promises 
 if we were to stay here all night. I am 
 afraid you haven't read your Bible as 
 much as you should, Geordie." 
 
 " I haven't read it near as much as I 
 used to, I know," said Geordie, frankly. 
 "Up in Minnesota I had hardly any 
 books I cared about except the Bible 
 and Pilgrim's Progress, and a few others ; 
 but since I came here, I have had Sun- 
 day-school books and I have borrowed 
 story-books of the other children, and 
 I haven't seemed to get as much time 
 to read the Bible. You don't think it 
 is wrong to read story-books, do you?" 
 he added, seeing or fancying a shade of 
 disapproval in his new friend's face. 
 
 " No, no more than it is wrong to eat 
 cake or candy or pastry now and then. 
 But if I should get so fond of pastry or 
 candy as never to eat anything else, I 
 should soon be in a bad way. The Bible 
 is the bread of life, and we cannot neglect
 
 20 THE TAME TURTLE. 
 
 it for anything without starving our 
 souls. I don't wonder you find it hard 
 to be good, Geordie, if you don't read 
 your Bible." 
 
 " But then, even if I should be ever 
 so good," said Geordie, after a short 
 pause, " I don't see how that will help 
 me about getting an education and being 
 a minister." 
 
 " You must leave that part to your 
 Father in Heaven, my dear," said Miss 
 Thurston. " He may have some other 
 work that he wants you to do. You 
 may be quite sure of one thing he 
 wants you to serve him in some way ; 
 and if you are in earnest in wishing to 
 do so, he will open the way for you. 
 But I would not give up the idea of 
 being a minister if I were you. Keep 
 it in mind and learn all you can about 
 all sorts of things. Try to do your best 
 at whatever work you set about, and in 
 that way you will be preparing all the 
 time. So Here we are on the track
 
 OFF THE TRACK. 21 
 
 again. We shall soon be at the Springs 
 now. You said you lived in Boonville ?" 
 
 " Yes, ma'am." 
 
 " Perhaps I may come to Boonville 
 some day ; and if so, I will be sure 
 to find you out," said Miss Thurston. 
 " Meantime, I am going to give you a 
 little keepsake," she added, taking out 
 of her pocket a very pretty buck-handled 
 knife. " I found this knife in the street 
 at Milby, and could discover no owner 
 for it. I think I must give it to you ; 
 and if any owner ever turns up, I will 
 replace it with another. And now will 
 you make me a promise ?" 
 
 " Yes, ma'am, if I can." 
 
 " It is this : promise me never to let 
 a day pass without reading a portion of 
 the Bible, if it is no more than one verse, 
 and asking your Heavenly Father to 
 help you to be good and to please him. 
 Will you promise me that ?" 
 
 " Yes, ma'am," answered Geordie. 
 
 He wanted very much to ask the
 
 22 THE TAME TUKTLE. 
 
 lady's name ; but while he was thinking 
 of the most polite way to do it, the train 
 stopped at the Springs, and he had to 
 hurry off the car. Miss Thurston bowed 
 and kissed her hand as the train rolled 
 away. Geordie found Mr. Badger with 
 his little wagon, and was soon on his way 
 to Boonville.
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 A UNT CLARKE. 
 
 OW, I do hope Aunt Clarke will 
 be in a good humour," said Geor- 
 die as he got out of Mr. Badger's 
 wagon and carefully took down 
 his basket of groceries. " I have done 
 the best I could, but that is no sign she 
 will be suited." 
 
 Geordie's words would have sounded 
 somewhat disrespectful if spoken aloud, 
 but there was too much truth in them. 
 It did depend on Aunt Clarke's mood 
 whether she would be suited or not, and 
 her mood depended on no known laws. 
 Jeduthun Cooke, Mr. Antis's coloured 
 miller, had once described her as "a 
 woman who would risk her life to pull 
 you out of the water one minute, and 
 
 23
 
 24 THE TAME TURTLE. 
 
 the next say something to make you 
 wish she had let you alone." 
 
 " She thinks, 'cause she does for folks, 
 that that gives her a right to insult 'em 
 same as if a man should think he's got a 
 right to kick me when he likes, 'cause 
 he's been and gave me a pair of boots. I'd 
 rather go without the boots." 
 
 Such was Jeduthun's opinion, and it 
 was Geordie's also. It was hard for him 
 to feel grateful to his aunt for food and 
 shelter, lodging and washing, when al- 
 most every meal was seasoned with un- 
 kind words, with complaints of the hard- 
 ship of having a great useless boy sad- 
 dled on her, with hints and taunts about 
 folks that were so fond of converting 
 Indians and negroes that they left their 
 own flesh and blood to any one who would 
 have the charity to pick them up, and a 
 sharp command to hold his tongue if Geor- 
 die ventured a word in his own or his fa- 
 ther's defence. No wonder Geordie looked 
 back with longing eyes to the rough but
 
 AUNT CLARKE. 25 
 
 hearty kindness, the ungrudged if often 
 scanty food, and the drink seasoned with 
 nothing worse than dirt and a fly now 
 and then, which he had enjoyed with 
 Michael and Marie Choquette. It is no 
 wonder that he often wished Aunt Clarke 
 had never heard of his existence, or had 
 been content to leave him in the hands 
 of his Indian friends. 
 
 But Mrs. Clarke's management was do- 
 ing Geordie even a greater injury than 
 making him unhappy and discontented. 
 He was fast growing reckless and hard. 
 He was forgetting the lessons he had 
 learned at home, and learning to think 
 that it made no difference whether he 
 were good or bad, since there was no- 
 body to care. Aunt Clarke was just as 
 likely to scold, or, what was worse, to 
 sneer, when he had done his best as 
 when he had not ; and that being the 
 case, where was the use of trying ? 
 
 Mrs. Clarke made no pretence of relig- 
 ion, never read the Bible, and rarely 
 
 3
 
 26 THE TAME TURTLE. 
 
 went to church, and she had plenty of 
 sneers for those who did. Besides, she 
 was always telling Geordie that he must 
 not expect to go to college. . If she kept 
 him at school another year, it was all 
 she could do, and more than he had a 
 right to expect ; and that being the case, 
 where was the use of his thinking of 
 being a minister ? 
 
 Then, again, Geordie did not get on 
 well at school. The teacher, Miss Bart- 
 lett, who had come in Miss Hilliard's 
 place, had a great idea of her own dig- 
 nity, and Geordie had unluckily given 
 that dignity a great blow the very first 
 week of school by asking two or three 
 questions which the lady could not an- 
 swer. Moreover, she was sure she had 
 seen him smile more than once at slips 
 in his teacher's grammar. Good Eng- 
 lish was not Miss Bartlett's native 
 tongue. She usually spoke it with pain- 
 ful preciseness, as we sometimes hear 
 men speak a foreign language, and she
 
 AUNT CLAKKE. 27 
 
 not unseldom made a slip into her native 
 dialect in such phrases as "hain't got 
 none," "had have went," and so on. 
 Miss Bartlett was fond of " object-teach- 
 ing ;" and once, when she was delivering 
 a lecture on the deer, Geordie was dis- 
 covered with his head down on the desk, 
 shaking with suppressed laughter, when 
 the only words which could be got out 
 of him were, " Indians hunting deer on 
 horseback ! Oh my !" Geordie never 
 could please Miss Bartlett after that, do 
 what he would. 
 
 There were two or three influences 
 which prevented Geordie from " going to 
 the bad " entirely. One was his Sunday- 
 school teacher, Mr. Parsons. Mr. Par- 
 sons was not a learned or brilliant man 
 he did not always use the best English 
 any more than Miss Bartlett but he 
 was always at his post, rain or shine, 
 harvest or planting-time, and he always 
 found time to study his lesson with the 
 best helps he could get. He was always
 
 28 THE TAME TURTLE. 
 
 in deep, serious earnest, and he made Lis 
 scholars earnest likewise. Geordie knew 
 that from Mr. Parsons he was sure of 
 kindness, and, still better, of justice, and 
 he tried to please him accordingly. 
 
 The other influence which kept Geor- 
 die back from evil was the remembrance 
 of his parents and their teachings. Mr. 
 McGregor had been for years a mission- 
 ary to the Indians in Minnesota poorly 
 paid, not always paid at all, but faithful 
 to his post and his people through evil 
 report and good report, through hard- 
 ship, discouragement, poverty, and mis- 
 understanding. Mrs. McGregor was all 
 that such a man's wife should be, and 
 Geordie was their only surviving child. 
 Amid all their cares they had found 
 time to begin their boy's education, 
 and to give him a sure and firm founda- 
 tion of religious knowledge. Geordie 
 remembered his father and mother with 
 an intensity of affection of which Mrs. 
 Clarke had no notion, and it was this
 
 AUNT CLARKE. 29 
 
 remembrance which held him back when 
 he was tempted to run away and seek 
 his fortune in the neighbouring city, or 
 try to make his way back to his Indian 
 friends in Minnesota which kept him 
 from playing truant or using bad lan- 
 guage, or falling by any of those tempta- 
 tions which are to be found in small 
 country villages almost as surely as in 
 cities. 
 
 Geordie was not absolutely penniless. 
 His father had insured his life for twelve 
 hundred dollars, thinking, as he told his 
 wife, that this sum would be something 
 toward giving the boy an education. 
 But Mr. McGregor, like many other 
 good men, neglected his duty sadly in 
 one respect he made no will and no 
 provision fo'r the guardianship of his 
 son ; and when he and his wife died 
 within a week of each other, there seem- 
 ed nobody to take charge of Geordie. 
 Michael Choquette, who was a pillar 
 in the little Indian church, took Geordie 
 
 3*
 
 30 THE TAME TURTLE. 
 
 home, and Mr. Smith, the Indian agent, 
 learning from Geordie that his mother 
 had a sister-in-law living in Boonville, 
 wrote to her. Mrs. Clarke had a great 
 deal to say of the trouble, and expense, 
 and injustice, and so on, but she went 
 through the necessary legal formalities, 
 and took charge of the boy. Geordie 
 had begun by thinking it would be a 
 fine thing to live among white folks and 
 go to school, but he soon changed his 
 mind and wished himself back again. 
 
 " Well ! So you have got home at 
 last!" was Mrs. Clarke's affectionate 
 greeting as Geordie entered the kitchen, 
 "You ought to have been here two 
 hours ago. I suppose you were fooling 
 round and missed the train, and now 
 you will expect me to go to work and get 
 supper for you. I might have known 
 just how it would be when I sent you. 
 There's nc use in expecting anything of 
 a boy." 
 
 " But, aunt, I didn't miss the train,"
 
 AUNT CLARKE. 31 
 
 said Geordie, when the torrent of words 
 had subsided a little. " I was there ten 
 minutes before it started. The train ran 
 off the track, and we were detained two 
 hours. I came over with Mr. Badger 
 in the mail wagon." 
 
 " Yes, that's a likely story !" 
 
 "You can ask Mr. Badger," said 
 Geordie. 
 
 " I've got something else to do besides 
 running after Mr. Badger to ask him. 
 Well, where's your basket ?" 
 
 Geordie displayed his basket, and Mrs. 
 Clarke, having scolded enough to relieve 
 her mind beforehand, was graciously 
 pleased to say that he had done as well 
 as she expected. 
 
 " What made you get white sugar, 
 when I told you to get yellow ?" 
 
 " They were both the same price, and 
 I thought you would like the white the 
 best. I asked Mr. Burdick to make out 
 a bill of the things, and here is the 
 change," said Geordie, producing both
 
 32 THE TAME TUETLE. 
 
 from his little wallet. " I believe it is all 
 right." 
 
 " Well, yes, it seems to be. Now go 
 and get your supper. There's the tea 
 on the stove, and you can get yourself 
 some cold meat and apple sauce." 
 
 . " I don't care for any meat, thank you, 
 aunt." 
 
 " Don't tell me ! Just as if there ever 
 was a boy who wouldn't eat all he could 
 swallow!" said Mrs. Clarke; "but of 
 course you'd rather have a piece of cake. 
 Well, there it is, then," cutting a liberal 
 slice as she spoke. " You are dainty 
 enough, any way ;" and having thus as it 
 were strewed ashes upon her gift, she 
 returned to her sewing. 
 
 Geordie ate his supper, and then went 
 up stairs and changed his clothes. 
 
 " What now ?" asked his aunt as he 
 came down. 
 
 " I was going to chop some kindling- 
 wood," answered Geordie. 
 
 " The kindling-wood is chopped long
 
 AUNT CLARKE. 33 
 
 ago ; I wasn't going to wait till dark for 
 it. If you want to do something so very 
 much, just go up to the mill and get a 
 bag of shavings." 
 
 Geordie took his bag and went out, 
 glad to be alone a little while. He soon 
 filled his bag at the sawing and planing 
 mill, and then, finding a pleasant seat on 
 a log, he sat down to rest a while. 
 
 " My work is all done, so I needn't 
 hurry back," he said to himself. "I 
 wonder what does make her act so ? It 
 would have been real good in her to give 
 me such a nice supper and do my work 
 for me, only she must go and spoil it by 
 making such a speech about it. What 
 a lovely woman that was who gave me 
 the knife, and how good she talked ! 
 just like mother. I wonder if it is true 
 what she said about God's caring? If 
 I thought that if he really does care 
 there is some comfort in trying to be 
 good. I wonder if there is anything 
 about it in the Bible? Why, of course 
 c
 
 34 THE TAME TUETLE. 
 
 there is ! How silly I am ! Those 
 verses she said over were in the Bible, 
 I know." 
 
 Geordie had a very small pocket Testa- 
 ment and Psalms which had belonged to 
 his father, and which he always carried 
 in his pocket, because his father had 
 done so before him, and because it held 
 the card photographs of both his parents. 
 He took it out and began turning over 
 the leaves, reading a verse here and there, 
 till it began to grow dark. 
 
 " I do believe it is true," said he as he 
 put up his book and shouldered his bag 
 of shavings. " I mean to try, any way." 
 
 " Now, George McGregor, what do you 
 mean by bringing such a load as that ?" 
 was Mrs. Clarke's salutation. " I suppose 
 you think you don't make trouble enough 
 now, so you want to break your back." 
 
 " Oh, it didn't hurt me any," answered 
 Geordie, depositing his bag. "I'm a 
 great deal stronger than I was when I 
 came here."
 
 AUNT CLARKE. 35 
 
 " And so you ought to be. There ! go 
 to bed. You'll be so tired to-morrow 
 you can't stir." 
 
 "Sha'n't I just bring in some wood 
 first?" 
 
 " The wood is all in. Go to bed, do, 
 and don't use up all your goodness to- 
 night. You may want some to-morrow." 
 
 Geordie had always said his prayers 
 ever since he could remember, but of late 
 his devotions had been little more than a 
 form. To-night, however, he prayed in 
 earnest. He did want to be a good boy, 
 to grow up good, to be a minister, like 
 his father, and to go preach to the 
 Indians. And as he prayed he felt that 
 his words were not spoken into the air 
 he felt that somebody was there to hear. 
 He felt comforted and quieted, and as he 
 lay down he remembered pleasantly a 
 favourite verse of his mother's : " He shall 
 cover thee with his feathers, and under 
 his v ings shalt thou trust. His truth 
 shall be thy shield and buckler."
 
 CHAPTEE III. 
 
 THE KNIFE. 
 
 EOKDIE had of late been rather 
 lazy in the morning. He was 
 apt to wake up feeling tired and 
 headachy, and it required a good 
 deal of resolution to jump up directly. 
 It was much easier and more comfortable 
 to turn over and go to sleep, thinking, 
 as he did so, "Aunt is sure to scold 
 about something ; it may as well be that 
 as anything else." 
 
 But Geordie had gone to bed in a 
 better frame of mind, and as one goes 
 to sleep so one is very apt to wake up. 
 He remembered his determination to trv 
 
 / 
 
 to please his aunt in all things, and he 
 jumped up directly, and hastened to 
 dress. 
 
 36
 
 THE KNIFE. 37 
 
 " I don't hear her stirring, and it must 
 be ever so early," he thought. " I won- 
 der if I can't run down and make the 
 fire before she gets up? But then I 
 must say my prayers." 
 
 Geordie hesitated a minute. The 
 temptation was a strong one, and he had 
 lately almost given up saying his prayers 
 in the morning. But he was one of 
 those somewhat uncommon children who 
 really think, and as he paused a moment 
 some words of his father's, said long ago 
 and perhaps hardly noticed at the time, 
 came back to him almost as if somebody 
 had spoken them in his ear : " How 
 can you expect that God will help and 
 guard you through the day if you don't 
 care enough about the matter to ask 
 him?" 
 
 " I will do it," said Geordie, aloud : 
 and shutting his door and kneeling 
 down, he said his usual morning prayers 
 adding a special petition that he might 
 be kept from auger and fretfulness,
 
 38 THE TAME TUETLE. 
 
 " And make me feel sure that thou dost 
 care what I do, and will help me to do 
 right." 
 
 Geordie was in time to light the fire, 
 after all. He had it nicely burning, the 
 floor swept, and the kettle singing on the 
 stove when his aunt appeared. 
 
 " Dear me ! how smart you are this 
 morning !" was Mrs. Clarke's salutation, 
 adding, by way of antidote to the praise 
 she had been surprised into giving, " It's 
 almost too good to last, I'm afraid." 
 
 " Father used to say it was the men's 
 business to make the fires," said Geordie. 
 
 " You are not quite a man yet, grand 
 as you feel," said his aunt, laughing. 
 " But since you feel so old, you may 
 take the pail and go after some milk." 
 
 All day long Geordie did his best to 
 please Mrs. Clarke, and he succeeded be- 
 yond his hopes. 
 
 Mrs. Clarke was in one of her better 
 moods, which made the matter easier. 
 She had got in some money which had
 
 THE KNIFE. 39 
 
 been owing to her for a long time, and 
 which she had given up for lost, and Mr. 
 Beman, the carpenter, had examined her 
 roof, which had lately taken to leaking, 
 and which she had supposed would need 
 to be entirely new covered, and had pro- 
 nounced that an hour's work would make 
 it as good as ever. She was so pleasant 
 that Geordie ventured to display the 
 present he had received, and which he 
 had hitherto kept in his pocket. 
 
 "Where did you get that?" asked 
 Aunt Clarke. 
 
 Geordie related the story. 
 
 " I don't know who she should be 
 some of the Hobarttown folks, I dare 
 say. Rich folks always like to patronize 
 poor folks," said Mrs. Clarke, with whom 
 it was a maxim that rich people always 
 looked down on poor people. 
 
 " I am sure she seemed like a nice 
 lady," said Geordie ; " and she talked so 
 pleasantly just like mother." 
 
 " If you wanted a knife very badly,
 
 40 THE TAME TURTLE. 
 
 you might have asked for it, I should 
 think ; but of course you would care 
 more for it coming from a stranger than 
 if I gave it to you. That's the way 
 with all the world," said Mrs. Clarke, 
 who in her strictures on her fellow- 
 creatures was used to speak of " the 
 world" and "folks" as of bodies to 
 which she in nowise belonged. " How- 
 ever, it's a nice knife, and you may as 
 well get what you can. You are sure 
 that the lady did give it to you, and 
 that you didn't help yourself to it any- 
 where?" 
 
 "Aunt Clarke, what do you mean?" 
 said Geordie, looking up with flashing 
 eyes. " Do you mean to say I would 
 steal it ?" 
 
 Mrs. Clarke laughed : 
 
 "You needn't speak up so, Geordie. 
 I was only in fun." 
 
 " Would you like to have any one ac- 
 cuse you of stealing in fun, aunt ?" 
 
 " Never you mind what I would like.
 
 THE KNIFE. 41 
 
 That isn't any concern of yours," re- 
 turned Mrs. Clarke, sharply. "Eat 
 your dinner and mind your business." 
 
 Sunday morning came, and Geordie, 
 not without some fear and trembling, put 
 on his best clothes. 
 
 "What now?" asked Mrs. Clarke. 
 " What are you dressed up so early for?" 
 
 "I thought I would go to church," 
 answered Geordie. " Can I ?" 
 
 " Yes, of course, if you want to. What 
 has put that in your head ? You haven't 
 been in ever so long." 
 
 " I know it," answered Geordie ; " but 
 I think I ought to go. I know father 
 would want me to go if he were here." 
 
 "Yes, much good your father's church- 
 going did him. However, you can do 
 just as you like. You had better sit 
 with Mr. Maynard, I guess. He will 
 keep you in order." 
 
 " Mr. Parsons always asks me to sit 
 with him," said Geordie, timidly. 
 
 "Just as you like, only mind you be- 
 
 4*
 
 42 THE TAME TURTLE. 
 
 have yourself," answered his aunt, and 
 Geordie went on his way rejoicing. 
 
 The next morning Geordie made the 
 fire, swept off the walks, and brought 
 in wood enough for his aunt's washing, 
 and had still a little time to play with 
 his only pet his tame turtle before 
 he went to school. This turtle was a 
 very small red-eyed reptile with yel- 
 low" spots on his head, and that general 
 expression of being unappreciated which 
 belongs to all turtles. He lived usually 
 in a small enclosure at the foot of the 
 garden, where an old dish-pan sunk in 
 the ground and daily filled with water 
 afforded him room for an occasional 
 swim, and also served as a storehouse 
 or fish-pond in which he pursued the 
 minnows and insects with which Geordie 
 supplied him. Strange as it may seem, 
 this queer little reptile knew his master 
 and loved him. He would come forth 
 from his pond or his hole at Geordie's 
 whistle, walking proudly on his tiptoes,
 
 THE KNIFE. 43 
 
 and crawling into his master's outstretched 
 hand, rub his queer head on Geordie's 
 thumb or hold up his chin to be scratched 
 like a kitten. He would remain con- 
 tentedly in Geordie's pocket for half 
 a day at a time, and had often been 
 carried to school in that repository. 
 
 Of late, however, his school career 
 had come to an end, Miss Bartlett hav- 
 ing passed a law confiscating all turtles, 
 grasshoppers, and mice found in the 
 schoolroom. It was probably a very 
 good law, but Geordie regretted it, inas- 
 much as it compelled him to leave his 
 turtle unguarded, and he was never 
 without fears that Aunt Clarke might 
 some time fall upon him, or Mungo, a 
 big Maltese cat, Mrs. Clarke's only pet, 
 take him at an unguarded moment and 
 scratch his eyes out. 
 
 The school-bell rung while Geordie 
 was arranging his turtle's pond, which 
 he had just filled with fresh water. 
 Unluckily, he had taken for the purpose
 
 44 THE TAME TURTLE. 
 
 an old tin basin which Mrs. Clarke used 
 for scouring-sand. He had fully intended 
 to fill it with clean sand and put it back 
 in its place, but the school-bell rung 
 sooner than he expected, and, truth to 
 tell, Geordie was rather a careless boy. 
 He ran to wash his hands, and went to 
 school, utterly forgetting all about sand, 
 basin, and the probable wrath of his 
 aunt at finding her basin missing. 
 
 He found himself in very good time, 
 after all. Most of the scholars were as- 
 sembled, but Miss Bartlett had not come. 
 His first greeting was from Osric Denni- 
 son, to whom he had showed his new 
 knife the day before : 
 
 "I say, Geordie, have you got your 
 new knife with you ?" 
 
 " Yes, of course," said Geordie, dis- 
 playing his treasure. 
 
 "Well, Ira Gardner says it is his 
 knife." 
 
 " How can it be his, when a If dy gave 
 it to me on the cars ?"
 
 THE KNIFE. 45 
 
 " Oh yes, very much !" said Ira, sneer- 
 ingly. " Now, look here, Geordie McGre- 
 gor, you give me that knife and own up 
 that you stole it, and I won't say any 
 more about it ; but if you don't, I'll tell 
 Miss Bartlett, and then see what you'll 
 get." 
 
 " But, Ira, it isn't your knife," said 
 Geordie, bewildered by the accusation. 
 " It may be something like it, but it isn't 
 yours." 
 
 " Let's see it, then," said Ira. Geordie 
 held it out on the palm of his hand. 
 " Do you mean to tell me that is not my 
 knife ? I'll leave it to any boy here if 
 that isn't my buck-handled knife." 
 
 " It looks like it, certainly," said Tom 
 Parsons; "but I don't believe Geordie 
 stole it, Ira. Maybe he found it." 
 
 " Yes, he found it in my desk, where 
 I left it last Thursday night," returned 
 Ira. "Sarah Brady saw Geordie come 
 back to the schoolhouse when we had all 
 gone home, and I know as well as I
 
 46 THE TAME TURTLE. 
 
 know anything that I left my knife in 
 my desk last Thursday." 
 
 " You might have done that, but this 
 is not your knife," persisted Geordie, no- 
 ways disposed to give up his treasure. 
 "I should like to know what I have 
 ever done that you should accuse me of 
 stealing ?" 
 
 " Just as if everybody don't know 
 how much trouble you make your aunt 
 all the time," answered Ira. " She told 
 my mother you tormented her life out, 
 and were just like all ministers' children. 
 Give me my knife, I say." 
 
 " I won't," returned Geordie. " It is 
 mine, and never was yours in the world. 
 You are just as mean as you can be, Ira 
 Gardner." 
 
 "What's that?" said Miss Bartlett, 
 who had come up unseen and heard 
 Geordie's last words. " What sort of 
 language is that ?" 
 
 " It is Geordie McGregor, and he has 
 got my knife and won't give it to me,"
 
 THE KNIFE. 47 
 
 said Ira, beginning to cry, as usual. " He 
 got it out of iny desk, and now he says 
 it is his, and he called me names be- 
 sides." 
 
 " Why don't you give Ira his knife ?" 
 asked Miss Bartlett, severely, turning to 
 Geordie. 
 
 " It isn't his, it's mine. A lady gave 
 it to me on the cars." 
 
 "We will see about that," said Miss 
 Bartlett. " Come into school, all of you." 
 
 As soon as school was opened, Miss 
 Bartlett called the two boys up before her. 
 
 Ira stated his case. He had left his 
 knife in his desk on Thursday, when 
 school was dismissed, and it was missing 
 on Monday. Geordie had been at the 
 schoolhouse after all the others had gone. 
 Sarah Brady and two other girls who had 
 stayed to sweep bore witness that Geordie 
 had looked into Ira Gardner's desk, and 
 had taken out a book. 
 
 "What book was it?" asked Miss 
 Bartlett.
 
 48 THE TAME TTJKTLE. 
 
 " It was a story-book I lent Ira, and 
 he didn't give it back to me, and I 
 wanted it," answered Geordie. 
 
 "So you bring story-books to school, 
 do you?" said Miss Bartlett. "Don't 
 you know that is against the rule ?" 
 
 " Yes, ma'am, but I didn't bring it to 
 read, only to lend to Ira." 
 
 " Yes, that's a likely story !" said Miss 
 Bartlett. " Ira, how do you know this 
 knife is yours ?" 
 
 "Because it looks just like mine. 
 There is just such a mark on the handle 
 and on the blade. You can ask any of 
 the boys. Ask Tom Parsons or Osric 
 Dennison." 
 
 Both the boys testified that the knife 
 was like Ira's; but Osric added that 
 there might be a great many knives 
 alike, and that he did not believe Geor- 
 die would steal. 
 
 " You are not asked for your opinion, 
 but for your evidence," said Miss Bart- 
 lett, who had a great notion of her own
 
 THE KNIFE. 49 
 
 acuteness. " George, what have you to 
 say for yourself? Tell the truth," she 
 added, sharply. " Don't wait to hatch 
 up a falsehood." 
 
 George was a timid boy where fault find- 
 ing was concerned, and he was easily con- 
 fused and disconcerted. In fact, a want 
 of moral courage and of what is some- 
 times called "backbone" was the great 
 fault of his character. He told his story 
 in a somewhat confused and stammering 
 fashion, and grew still more confused 
 under Miss Bartlett's sharp cross-exam- 
 ination, feeling, as he did, that his judge 
 was anything but an impartial one. 
 
 Miss Bartlett prided herself on her dis- 
 cernment of character. She was wont to 
 say that she made up her mind about peo- 
 ple in the first five minutes, and rarely if 
 ever had occasion to change it. She had 
 never liked Geordie, from the first, and 
 had liked him still less after that un- 
 lucky affair of the deer. Ira, on the 
 contrary, was a favourite, as he knew 
 
 5
 
 50 THE TAME TURTLE. 
 
 right well, and this very knowledge gave 
 him that confidence which Geordie 
 wanted. Besides, to do him justice, Ira 
 really believed at the moment that the 
 knife was his own. 
 
 Miss Bartlett's decision was soon an- 
 nounced : 
 
 " Geordie is a very wicked boy. He 
 has stolen a knife, and is lying to hide 
 it. He must give back the knife, and I 
 shall punish him severely unless he con- 
 fesses what he has done and says he is 
 sorry. In that case I shall only keep 
 him in at recess for a week." 
 
 " I didn't steal the knife, and I 
 haven't told lies," exclaimed Geordie, 
 bursting into tears. "It is my own 
 knife, that the lady gave me." 
 
 " I think you might wait and find out 
 about it, Miss Bartlett," said Tom Par- 
 sons. " I don't think it is fair." 
 
 " Give Ira his knife this moment," 
 said Miss Bartlett, not deigning to no- 
 tice Tom's remark.
 
 THE KNIFE. 51 
 
 " I won't !" returned Geordie. " It is 
 mine." 
 
 Miss Bartlett was in a passion. She 
 took the knife from Geordie by main 
 force, and then gave him a severe whip- 
 ping. It was the first the child had 
 ever felt in his life, for his father and 
 mother were not given to punishment, 
 and Mrs. Clarke, unkind as she was, had 
 never laid a hand on him. 
 
 "There!" said Miss Bartlett as she 
 released him. " Now go to your seat and 
 stay till recess. Then I shall ask you 
 again ; and unless you confess the truth, 
 I shall punish you still more severely, 
 and so on till you tell the truth." 
 
 Geordie dropped into his seat and laid 
 his head on his desk, nor did he move 
 till Miss Bartlett called him up again, 
 when he repeated his denial. But pain 
 and shame were too much for the poor 
 boy, and as Miss Bartlett suspended the 
 rod, with the question, "Will you con- 
 fess now ?" he answered, " Yes."
 
 52 THE TA.ME TURTLE. 
 
 "Then you did take the knife?" 
 
 " Yes, ma'am." 
 
 "Oh, I thought I should get at the 
 truth. You took it out of Ira's desk ?" 
 
 " Yes, ma'am." 
 
 " And then made up this story to hide 
 it. You wicked boy ! I have a great 
 mind to turn you out of the school. 
 How dare you behave so? Don't you 
 know what will become of you if you 
 do such things ?" 
 
 Geordie did not know anything, only 
 that he was utterly miserable and would 
 be glad to creep into any corner to hide, 
 like a wounded animal. He never stirred 
 from his seat till school was out, when 
 Miss Bartlett gave him another " talking 
 to." She was one of those who cannot 
 accept the gospel in its simplicity, but 
 must supplement it with somebody's 
 " philosophy " or scheme. She was, in 
 short, as unfit for her place as any one 
 could be. She assured Geordie that he 
 had stained his soul with a blot which
 
 THE KNIFE. 53 
 
 could never be washed out, and that he 
 could never be again as if he had not 
 sinned. She assured him that God hated 
 sinners, and especially liars, on account 
 of his own ideal of purity and justice, 
 and could not do otherwise. Then de- 
 scending to the severely practical, she 
 informed Geordie that she expected to 
 see him come to the gallows or the State's 
 prison, or perhaps to some such fate as 
 that of the two robbers who had tried 
 to burn the mill and been drowned in 
 the pond, and added that she should in- 
 form his aunt of his conduct without 
 delay. 
 
 Geordie listened without a word, and 
 when released crept home without speak- 
 ing to anybody. He had no one to 
 whom lie could turn for comfort, as he 
 thought his aunt was sure to take sides 
 against him. He had only one friend 
 left his poor turtle ; and he hastened to 
 the bottom of the garden, where he 
 might at least be alone with his favourite. 
 
 5*
 
 04 THE TAME TURTLE. 
 
 What a sight met his eyes ! The neat 
 paling of willow twigs was half demol- 
 ished, the old pan taken up, and the tur- 
 tle was gone. 
 
 " There ! you won't find your pet," said 
 Mr. Brown, who was at work in the 
 next yard. " Mis' Clarke has been and 
 throwed him away. I told her it was a 
 kind of a shame," continued the old man, 
 " but she's got her own notions. Oh, 
 there ! don't cry," as Geordie, whose last 
 morsel of courage now gave way, threw 
 himself flat on the ground and burst into 
 a flood of tears and lamentations. " It was 
 nothing but a mud turtle, after all." 
 
 But Geordie would not hear, and Mr. 
 Brown moved away to tell his wife that 
 it was a real shame of Mrs. Clarke to 
 use that orphan boy as she did. 
 
 " George McGregor, get up this min- 
 ute and stop that noise !" said Mrs. Clarke, 
 coming to where Geordie lay. " Ain't 
 you ashamed to lie there and howl like 
 that for a nasty reptile ?"
 
 THE KNIFE. 55 
 
 " He wasn't a nasty reptile. He was 
 my dear little clean turtle, and you are 
 a wicked, hard-hearted, cruel woman !" 
 sobbed Geordie, driven to desperation by 
 his misery. " I wonder how you would 
 like it if I should go and drown Mungo? 
 I wonder what my mother would say if 
 she knew how you treated her poor little 
 boy ? Oh, my turtle, my dear little tame 
 turtle, that knew me and loved me the 
 only comfort I had in all the world ! Oh, 
 my heart will break it will, it will ! Oh, 
 mother, mother !" 
 
 Now, truth to tell, Mrs. Clarke was 
 already sorry she had thrown away the 
 turtle. She had done so in a fit of 
 anger consequent on the facts, first, that 
 her wash-boiler leaked and her clothes- 
 line had broken and let her washing 
 down in the dirt, and finally that she 
 had missed her sand-basin, and after a 
 pretty long search found it in the turtle's 
 pen with the turtle reposing in it. As 
 I said, she was already sorry, and Geor-
 
 56 THE TAME TURTLE. 
 
 die's remark about his mother touched 
 her still more. But it was a fixed prin- 
 ciple with her never to own herself in 
 the wrong. 
 
 " Oh, nonsense !" said she. " Making 
 such a fuss about a turtle ! If you must 
 have a pet, I'll get you a dog or a bird 
 some day. Come, now, you mustn't 
 lie there getting your death of cold. 
 Come in and eat your supper, and stop 
 crying, do !" 
 
 Geordie was too worn out to resist. 
 He stopped crying and sat down to sup- 
 per, but he could not eat. The meal was 
 not fairly over when Miss Bartlett called 
 with her story. As I have said, Mrs. 
 Clarke's moods were not to be calculated 
 upon. She did not like Miss Bartlett, be- 
 cause, as she said, Miss Bartlett " put on 
 airs," which was certainly true. More- 
 over, Geordie belonged to her, and was 
 therefore not to be abused by others, 
 however she might treat him herself. 
 Bhe cut short the teacher's story, declar-
 
 THE KNIFE. 57 
 
 ing that she did not believe a single word 
 of it. 
 
 " But George has confessed." 
 
 " Yes, when you whipped him so he 
 didn't know or care what he said. I 
 never caught him in a lie yet." 
 
 "But I understand you have com- 
 plained to several people of the trouble 
 he made you," said Miss Bartlett. 
 
 "He is no more trouble than other 
 boys, and it is no business of yours what 
 I said," returned Mrs. Clarke, no ways 
 pleased at having her own words thrown 
 back to her. " You mind your concerns, 
 and I'll mind mine." 
 
 "Oh, very well," said Miss Bartlett, 
 rising, with dignity. " I have done my 
 duty by the boy ;" ancf I suppose she 
 thought she had. 
 
 " Come, come, George ! stop crying, 
 and go to bed," said Mrs. Clarke, coming 
 up to Geordie's little room. "I'll get 
 you another knife, and a better one 
 than that ; and as for the turtle, you can
 
 58 THE TAME TURTLE. 
 
 catch a dozen more any time. Come, go 
 to bed and to sleep, and never mind that 
 foolish woman." 
 
 Geordie obeyed, and crept to bed 
 without reading his verses or saying his 
 prayers, as wretched a boy as could be 
 found in Lake county. His dear turtle 
 was gone. All the boys and girls 
 thought him a liar and a thief, and he 
 had confessed to being one. He had lied 
 about the knife because he was afraid of 
 being punished. He had not had as 
 much courage as a wild Indian. There 
 was no use in saying his prayers, because 
 God hated him for telling a lie ; and if 
 he were ever so sorry, it wouldn't do 
 any good. 
 
 " It would be something if I only had 
 my dear turtle," sobbed the poor child, 
 " but he is gone too, and I shall never 
 see him again. Oh dear ! how I wish I 
 had died when I was a baby, like the 
 others, and then I should be in heaven 
 with my father and mother."
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 MR. MATNARD. 
 
 'HE next morning, Mrs. Clarke 
 went into Geordie's room to call 
 him, as usual. As she stood be- 
 side the bed and saw how pale he 
 looked, and what a sad, grieved expres- 
 sion the young face wore, her heart 
 smote her. Surely the boy did not look 
 so when she first saw him playing with 
 Marie Choquette's baby. He was merry 
 enough then. 
 
 " But I don't think he need mind so 
 much," she said to herself. " I'm sure 
 I wish I had let the turtle alone, but I 
 will make it up to him some way. As 
 for that Bartlett woman, if she puts her 
 hand on him again, I'll know the reason 
 why. I guess I'll let him sleep. He 
 
 59
 
 60 THE TAME TURTLE. 
 
 had a pretty hard time yesterday ;" and 
 Mrs. Clarke actually closed the door and 
 went down stairs, leaving Geordie to 
 sleep till nearly breakfast-time. 
 
 Geordie woke at last from a dream 
 of showing his turtle to his mother a 
 dream so vivid that he seemed still to 
 feel the little cold creature in his hand. 
 
 " But I shall never see him again," 
 thought poor Geordie, sadly, " nor mother, 
 nor any of them never any more. Oh, 
 if I had only told the truth, and stuck 
 to it, like the man in the book of mar- 
 tyrs ! I didn't think how it was to turn 
 out when the pretty lady gave me the 
 knife and I was so pleased. But there ! 
 I must get up, and I suppose aunt will 
 scold, and keep on scolding always. If 
 one could see any end to it, that would 
 be something," thought the poor child, 
 in the bitterness of his spirit, as he 
 slowly dressed himself, not without some 
 trouble and pain, for he was sore from 
 yesterday's beating, ^nd had, besides, a
 
 MR. MAYNARD. 61 
 
 kind of heavy, aching feeling in the 
 back of his neck. 
 
 " Come, Geordie, breakfast is ready," 
 called his aunt from the foot of the stairs, 
 in a far gentler tone than usual. 
 
 Geordie hastened his dressing, and 
 went down without stopping to say his 
 prayers. 
 
 " What's the use ?" he said to himself. 
 " There is nobody to care any more. I 
 wonder whether there is any truth in it, 
 any way ? Only for father and mother, I 
 should almost think there wasn't." 
 
 " Well, you had a good sleep," said his 
 aunt, not unkindly, as Geordie timidly 
 opened the door. " I went to call you, 
 but I thought you looked kind of beat 
 out, so I let you sleep. Don't you feel 
 well?" 
 
 " Not very," answered Geordie, almost 
 frightened at his aunt's unwonted mood. 
 " My back aches and my neck feels stiff, 
 and hurts me very much." 
 
 " I expect you caught cold yesterday,
 
 62 THE TAME TURTLE. 
 
 lying on the ground crying over your 
 turtle," Mrs. Clarke was going to say, but 
 she didn't. She actually for once re- 
 frained from saying what was in her mind 
 out of respect for somebody's feelings. 
 " You had better drink a good dose of 
 hot coffee, and warm yourself up. Here, 
 I'll get you some honey. That's good 
 for a cold, folks say." 
 
 Geordie felt a little cheered and com- 
 forted by his aunt's unexpected kindness. 
 He went out after breakfast, and from 
 the mere force of habit took his way to- 
 ward the turtle's pen. 
 
 Mrs. Clarke saw him, and recalled him. 
 
 " I wish you would run down to the 
 store and get me a bottle of bluing. 
 You will have plenty of time before 
 school." 
 
 Geordie dreaded the idea of going to 
 school to meet Miss Bartlett and the chil- 
 dren, but he made no objections. As he 
 went toward the schoolhouse, he met Ira 
 Gardner. He was passing him without
 
 MR. MAYNAKD. 63 
 
 a word, for he could not make up his 
 mind to speak to him, when Ira stopped 
 him. 
 
 " Geordie, you may have that knife if 
 you want it," said he, in an embarrassed 
 tone. 
 
 " I don't want it," returned Geordie. 
 " I never want to see it again." 
 
 "Oh, come, now, don't be foolish. 
 Come, I'll give you one of my rabbits 
 too if you like. Just as you please, 
 though," said Ira as Geordie walked 
 away. " I'm sure you can't say I didn't 
 try to make up. I've done my share." 
 
 Though Ira tried to speak easily and 
 carelessly, he knew very well that he 
 had not done his share, and he felt very 
 much embarrassed and very uncomfort- 
 able. The fact was he had found his 
 knife, or at least he had remembered 
 what he had done with it. Ira had a 
 brother who was clerk in a store at the 
 Springs. When James was at home on 
 Thursday, he had borrowed Ira's knife ;
 
 64 THE TAME TUETLE. 
 
 and forgetting to return it, he had carried 
 it over to the Springs in his pocket. 
 
 Then why did not Ira say so ? For 
 two or three reasons. He had really be- 
 lieved Geordie's knife to be his, and that 
 he had left it in his desk on that day. 
 Then, when he remembered about it, he 
 could not make up his mind to expose 
 himself to the remarks of his schoolmates 
 and the anger of Miss Bartlett, who, as 
 Ira knew, would not easily forgive any- 
 body for proving her to be in the wrong. 
 
 " She would be sure to whip me and 
 tell father and make no end of a fuss," 
 thought Ira, " and it wouldn't do Geordie 
 any good, either. I'll just give him the 
 knife, and say nothing about it, only let 
 him think I want to make up." 
 
 It never occurred to him that Geor- 
 die would refuse to take the knife, and 
 his doing so threw Ira into considerable 
 embarrassment. He called Geordie "a 
 sulky cub," but he did not find any re- 
 lief in the words. He felt very mean
 
 MR. MAYNARD. 65 
 
 indeed as he saw Geordie's pale face and 
 listless manner in school, and heard Miss 
 Bartlett scold him for sullenness and in- 
 attention. Geordie sat all recess-time 
 with his head resting on his desk, and as 
 soon as school was out he hurried home. 
 
 " How's your head ?" was Mrs. Clarke's 
 greeting. 
 
 " It aches a good deal," answered Geor- 
 die, " and it feels stupid." 
 
 " That isn't a very dangerous sign, or 
 a good many folks wouldn't live long," 
 rejoined Mrs. Clarke. " I guess you had 
 better not go to school this afternoon. 
 Take your fish-pole, and go and have a 
 good time fishing." 
 
 If Mrs. Clarke had been very clear- 
 sighted, she might have perceived that 
 Geordie was not much better fitted for 
 an afternoon of fishing than of school. 
 Geordie was not in the mood to care for 
 any amusement; but he felt that his 
 aunt meant to be kind, and he wanted 
 to be alone. He thought her mood too 
 
 6 B
 
 66 THE TAME TURTLE. 
 
 good to last, and was not surprised when 
 she called him back ; but he was aston- 
 ished when she put a packet of ginger- 
 bread into his pocket, telling him that he 
 hadn't eaten a bit of dinner, and maybe 
 he might get hungry. 
 
 " I do believe she is sorry about the 
 turtle," said he to himself. "She has 
 been real good to me all day. I wish I 
 knew what she said to Miss Bartlett, and 
 whether she thinks I stole the knife. 
 But of course she does. Every one will, 
 now that I have owned it. Oh, if that 
 lady had never given it to me ! But then 
 of course she didn't know how much 
 trouble it would make. If I knew where 
 she lived, I would write to her ; but then 
 I dare say she would despise me for tell- 
 ing such lies about it. Oh, if I hadn't 
 done that, I wouldn't care for anything 
 else. And I did so want to be good, and 
 now there is no use in trying any more." 
 
 Geordie walked along down the stream 
 till he reached a retired spot where a
 
 MR. MAYNARD. 67 
 
 high, overgrown bank, receding from the 
 water, left a little plot of grass and elder- 
 bushes, while the river flowed rather 
 swiftly over a break in its bed, making 
 a pretty little ripple. It was here that 
 Geordie had captured his beloved turtle. 
 It was a very good fishing-place, but he 
 did not try to fish. He laid aside his 
 rod and basket, and threw himself down 
 on the grass, resting his head on his 
 folded arms. 
 
 He seemed to himself to have been ly- 
 ing there quite a long time, partly dozing 
 and dreaming, partly musing in an aim- 
 less way over his troubles, when a hand 
 was laid on him, and somebody said, in a 
 quick but not unkind tone, 
 
 " Hallo, my boy ! is this the way you 
 go fishing ? You won't catch anything 
 but rheumatism this way." 
 
 Geordie roused himself up with a start, 
 and saw Mr. Maynard standing beside 
 him. Mr. Maynard was a retired min- 
 ister, who lived on a small farm near the
 
 68 THE TAME TURTLE. 
 
 little village of Boonville. He was a 
 very learned man, and had been a fa- 
 mous preacher, but his health had failed, 
 and some people said his mind was a lit- 
 tle ajar at times. At any rate, he had 
 given up preaching and retired to his 
 farm, where he raised fruit and vegeta- 
 bles and abundance of flowers, studied 
 Hebrew and Arabic, and amused himself 
 with fishing and catching insects. His 
 sister, who lived with him and kept his 
 house, was a mild, gentle-mannered wid- 
 ow lady, as fond of books as her brother, 
 and as great a student of modern as he 
 was of ancient tongues. She was just as 
 crazy as her brother, the Boonville people 
 said; and Miss Smith, the dressmaker, 
 thought she had quite proved her state- 
 ment when she declared that Mrs. Oli-, 
 phant had spent a hundred dollars which 
 her husband's father sent her, not on a 
 nice silk dress and furs, as any sensible 
 woman would, but on books. 
 
 " Not new books, either, for I was there
 
 MR. MAYNARD. 69 
 
 when they came. Ever so many of them 
 were downright shabby, and some of 
 them had the covers loose. If I was go- 
 ing to waste money like that, I'd at least 
 have some nice handsome books to show 
 for it." 
 
 Geordie had been rather shy of Mr. 
 Maynard at first, but they had met two 
 or three times when out fishing, and 
 Geordie was beginning to get over his 
 fear of Mr. Maynard's somewhat gruff 
 voice and harsh manner, and the shaggy 
 gray eyebrows which met over his large 
 nose. 
 
 "But what's the matter?" said Mr. 
 Maynard, as Geordie lifted his head and 
 showed his tear-stained face. " Has any- 
 thing happened to the dear turtle, or 
 has Auntie Clarke been scolding ? You 
 mustn't mind it so much as that. My 
 dear boy, don't lie there and cry," for 
 at the minister's words Geordie's head 
 went down again. " You will get your 
 death of cold. Come, sit down here and
 
 70 THE TAME TURTLE. 
 
 tell me all about it. That's the way your 
 father has done before now." 
 
 " Did you know my father, sir ?" asked 
 Geordie, diverted for a moment from his 
 trouble. 
 
 " Yes ; we were schoolmates and chums 
 at one time, though I was a big boy 
 when he was a little one. It was only 
 the other day that I found out you were 
 the son of my old friend. You must 
 come up and make me a visit. But 
 come, Geordie, tell me what has happened 
 to trouble you so much. Is the turtle 
 dead?" 
 
 " No, but he isn't mine any longer," 
 sad Geordie sadly. "Aunt Clarke threw 
 him away ; and that isn't the worst, 
 either." 
 
 "What is the worst?" asked Mr. 
 Mayaard. " Come, tell me all about it 
 from the begining. Perhaps I can find 
 some way to help you." 
 
 Thus encouraged, Geordie related the 
 story of his troubles. Mr. Maynard
 
 MR. MAYNARD. 4 71 
 
 listened with grave attention, drawing 
 his brows together till his eyes seemed in 
 some danger of disappearing altogether. 
 
 When Geordie finished, the minister 
 was silent a minute, and Geordie, look- 
 ing timidly into his face, was surprised 
 and dismayed to see its expression of 
 wrath. 
 
 " I know it was very wicked to tell so 
 many lies about it," said he, "but oh, 
 she did hurt me so !" 
 
 " Miss Bartlett ought to have been an 
 inquisitor," said Mr. Maynard, breaking 
 silence at last. " She would have shone 
 in that station of life." 
 
 " It did make me think about some 
 things in the ' Book of Martyrs ' tor- 
 menting people to make them confess," 
 said Geordie, relieved to find that Mr. 
 Maynard's anger did not seem to be 
 directed against himself; "but then the 
 martyrs kept on telling the truth. They 
 didn't lie to get away from being hurt, 
 as I did."
 
 72 JHE TAME TURTLE. 
 
 "Some of them did," answered Mr. 
 Maynard. " When you come to see me I 
 will show you the story of a young man 
 who denied his religion for fear of pun- 
 ishment, and afterward became one of 
 the bravest of martyrs." 
 
 " I don't care so much for anything 
 only the lies I told," said Geordie. " But 
 I did so want to be good, and grow up to 
 be a minister and preach to father's poor 
 Indians. But I don't see how I can if 
 God hates me." 
 
 " Who told you that God hated you ?" 
 asked Mr. Maynard, sharply. 
 
 " Miss Bartlett said so. She said he 
 hated all sinners, and especially liars. 
 And she said I never could be again as 
 if I hadn't done wrong, and that noth- 
 ing could take away the stain of the sin 
 I had committed, and that nobody would 
 ever believe me again." 
 
 " Miss Bartlett is a never mind what," 
 said Mr. Maynard. "Look here, George : 
 do you ever read your Bible ?"
 
 MR. MAYNAKD. 73 
 
 " Yes, sir sometimes." 
 
 " If you read it every day, instead of 
 only sometimes, my boy, you would 
 know better than to believe such stuff as 
 that. Tell me, whom did Jesus Christ 
 come into the world to save ?" 
 
 " Sinners," answered George. 
 
 " Do you think that looks as if he 
 hated them? See here, I want to read 
 you a few verses or you may read them 
 to me," said Mr. Maynard, taking his 
 Testament from his pocket and turning 
 over the leaves ; then, as if struck with 
 a sudden thought, " But I suppose you 
 can't read Greek ?" 
 
 " No, sir," answered Geordie, wonder- 
 ing in his own mind what Mr. Maynard 
 took him for ; " but I have got an Eng- 
 lish Testament in my pocket;" and he 
 handed the little volume to Mr. May- 
 nard. 
 
 Mr. Maynard found the place he was 
 looking for, and handed the book back 
 to Geordie, who read aloud :
 
 74 THE TAME TURTLE. 
 
 " ' For when we were without strength, 
 in due time Christ died for the ungodly. 
 
 " ' For scarcely for a righteous man will 
 one die ; yet peradventure for a good 
 man some would even dare to die. 
 
 " ' But God commendeth his love to- 
 ward us, in that, while we were yet sin- 
 ners, Christ died for us." 
 
 " Do you think that sounds as if God 
 hated sinners ?" asked Mr. Maynard. 
 
 " No, sir. It says he loves them, and 
 I think he must love them very much to 
 send his Son to die for them." 
 
 " Yes, he sent his Son to save them ; 
 and from what? Not only from the 
 punishment of sin, but from sin itself. 
 Bead this." 
 
 Geordie read : 
 
 "'The blood of Jesus Christ his son 
 cleanseth us from all sin. 
 
 " ' If we say we have no sin, we de- 
 ceive ourselves, and the truth is not in 
 us. 
 
 " ' If we confess our sins, ht is faithful
 
 MR. MAYNARD. 75 
 
 and just to forgive us our sins, and to 
 cleanse us from all unrighteousness.' 
 
 " Does it mean that if we if I am 
 sorry for telling the lies, and confess 
 them to him, he will forgive me, right 
 off, now ?" asked Geordie, looking up with 
 an awe-struck, wondering face. 
 
 " Just that, my son, and more than that. 
 He not only forgives the sin, but he 
 cleanses it away makes it as if it had 
 never been, just as you might wash a 
 stain from your hands. It is sin that 
 God hates, mj boy, not sinners." 
 
 " I don't quite understand," said Geor- 
 die. 
 
 " It is something like this : if you had 
 a dear friend who was sick with the small- 
 pox, you would hate the disease, wouldn't 
 
 you?" 
 
 " Yes, sir." 
 
 "But you wouldn't hate your friend 
 You would want to ease him, and would 
 do everything for him." 
 
 " Yes, indeed."
 
 THE TAME TURTLE. 
 
 "And the more you loved him, the 
 more you would hate the disease ?" 
 
 " Yes, sir." 
 
 " Well, just so God hates sin not the 
 sinner, but sin. He loves the sinner, and, 
 if he is only willing, will cure him of his 
 disease and make him fit for the inherit- 
 ance of the saints in light. You have 
 only to believe this to believe that the 
 Lord Jesus Christ, the Son of God, is 
 able and willing to save you, to confess 
 your sin to him and be really willing to 
 have him save you and all your trou- 
 ble is over on that score. You may be 
 sure that he wants to help you a great 
 deal more even than you want to be 
 helped." 
 
 Geordie remained silent a few minutes. 
 Then he said, softly, 
 
 " It seems too good to be true. Then 
 perhaps he will let me be a minister, after 
 all?" 
 
 " Most surely he will if he sees you 
 are fit for it ; and if not, he will let you
 
 MR. MAYNARD. 77 
 
 serve him in some other way that will be 
 quite as good." 
 
 "But, Mr. Maynard, ought I to tell 
 Miss Bartlett again that I didn't take the 
 knife?" 
 
 " We will think about that, and con- 
 sider what is best to be done. I think 
 Miss Bartlett is very much to blame ; but 
 you don't want to injure her, do you, 
 George ? You don't want to be revenged 
 on this poor foolish schoolma'am ?" 
 
 " No, sir ; I don't want to be revenged 
 on anybody." 
 
 " Not even on Aunt Clarke for throw- 
 ing away the poor turtle ?" 
 
 " No, sir. I don't think it was right 
 to do so," said Geordie " I can't think 
 that ; but I don't want to be revenged on 
 her ; and, besides, I do really think she is 
 sorry. She hasn't scolded me a bit to- 
 day, and she gave me some honey for 
 breakfast, and some gingerbread." 
 
 Mr. Maynard could not forbear smiling. 
 
 " I dare say she is sorry," said he. " It 
 
 7
 
 78 THE TAME TUKTLE. 
 
 would be better for her to say so ; but if 
 she doesn't, you mustn't mind. What's 
 the matter ? Does your head ache ?" 
 
 " It has ached all day," said Geordie, 
 pressing his hands on the back of his 
 neck. " It feels as if something was 
 pulling it over backward." 
 
 "That is an ugly feeling," said Mr. 
 Maynard, gravely. " I think we had 
 better be going homeward, as it is get- 
 ting late ; and since you have caught no 
 fish of your own, you shall take these to 
 your aunt, with my regards. You know 
 she is a kind of cousin of mine." 
 
 " What are you doing in school ?" 
 asked Mr. Maynard as they walked up 
 the Outlet, as the little river was called. 
 
 Geordie told him. 
 
 " Have you ever studied Latin ?" 
 
 " I began it a little with father just 
 before he- died, but I am afraid I have 
 forgotten all I knew." 
 
 " I wonder whether you would like to 
 begin it again with me ?"
 
 MR. MAYXARD. 79 
 
 i 
 
 Geordie's eyes sparkled : " Oh yes, 
 sir, indeed I should." 
 
 " Well, we must talk to Aunt Clarke, 
 and perhaps we can arrange it. Any- 
 how, you must come over and make me 
 a good long visit. But, my boy, one 
 word more," said Mr. Maynard, laying 
 his hand on Geordie's shoulder : " never, 
 never, for a moment, believe that your 
 heavenly Father is your enemy. What- 
 ever sin you may have committed, carry 
 it straight to him, asking forgiveness and 
 cleansing for Christ's sake, and begin 
 again with new and good courage. Now, 
 good-bye, and God bless you." 
 
 Mr. Maynard shook Geordie's hand 
 and turned away into the road which led 
 to his own house ; but remembering that 
 he had put Geordie's little Testament 
 into his pocket, he turned round to give 
 it back. He was just in time to see 
 Geordie throw down his rod and basket 
 and plunge into the water.
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 MUNGO. 
 
 | HE boy has gone crazy!" was Mr. 
 Maynard's first thought. " He 
 will be drowned, as sure as fate," 
 was the next, for the river just 
 there was deep, and a little below was the 
 entrance to the flume which supplied the 
 plaster-mill. 
 
 He hastened back to the spot, but 
 somebody was before him. Jeduthun 
 Cooke, Mr. Autis's coloured miller, who 
 could run faster, swim farther, shoot 
 straighter, and sing better than any man 
 in Boonville, had seen Geordie's leap ; 
 and before Mr. Maynard reached the 
 bank, Jeduthun had jumped into the 
 water, and had hold of Geordie's collar, 
 Geordie in his turn holding fast to the 
 
 M
 
 MUNGO. 81 
 
 object which had prompted his leap his 
 aunt's big cross-eyed and ill-tempered 
 Maltese cat. 
 
 Mungo was Mrs. Clarke's only favour- 
 ite ; and barring his unsociable disposition; 
 which made him resent all petting, he 
 was a valuable animal of his kind. He 
 never stole anything at home ; he was 
 an excellent mouser, and was possessed 
 of almost super-feline intelligence in the 
 matter of opening doors and catching 
 chickens. 
 
 It was this last accomplishment which 
 had brought him into his present trouble. 
 Mr. Peters, Mrs. Clarke's next neighbour, 
 was a chicken-fancier, and raised many 
 broods of chickens which were very profit- 
 able to himself and very troublesome to 
 every one else. But that was a circum- 
 stance which never annoyed Mr. Peters, 
 he being one of those amiable people who 
 never care for the inconvenience of their 
 fellow-creatures so long as they them- 
 selves are suited. His chickens were 
 
 F
 
 82 THE TAME TURTLE. 
 
 profitable to him, therefore it was of no 
 consequence that they spoiled old Mr. 
 Brown's tomatoes and pecked his straw- 
 berries, and destroyed Mrs. Clarke's cu- 
 cumbers and robbed her grapevines. He 
 did not believe they did any mischief, 
 and would take no pains to shut them 
 up. 
 
 But Mungo was also in his way a hen- 
 fancier, and would as soon dine off a 
 pure-blooded Spanish chicken as off any 
 common barn-door fowl. Usually, he had 
 the discretion to confine his hunts to his 
 mistress's premises and those of old Mr. 
 Brown, who made no objection to his 
 visits. This day, however, his zeal had 
 outrun his discretion. He had followed 
 a white Dorking into its own home, 
 where Mr. Peters had captured him and 
 thrown him into the Outlet with a brick 
 fastened to his neck to ensure his de- 
 struction. 
 
 As it turned out, however, the brick 
 was his salvation ; for being tied to hia
 
 Eamr Curtlf. 
 
 'You're a nice boy, ain't you?" said Jedulhun, as he landed 
 Oeordie on the bank. pp. 83-84.
 
 MUNGO. 83 
 
 neck with a long string, it lodged on a 
 small rushy inlet not far from the shore, 
 and served as an anchor which kept 
 Mungo from being carried into the flume. 
 The poor cat could just reach far enough 
 to rest his fore-paws on the rushes, and 
 thus keep his head above water, while 
 he mewed piteously for help. It was 
 this mewing which attracted Geordie's 
 notice. I will not say that for a minute 
 the thought of his turtle did not occur 
 to his mind ; but if so, he did not listen 
 to the suggestion. He never stopped to 
 take off his clothes, but plunged into the 
 water and rescued poor Mungo, who was 
 nearly at the last of his nine lives, for 
 the water was cold, and he had been in 
 it more than an hour. But the current 
 was strong and Geordie was weak, and 
 it may be doubted whether either he or 
 Mungo would have reached land again 
 but for Jeduthun's timely arrival and 
 assistance. 
 
 " You're a nice boy, ain't you ?" was
 
 84 THE TAME TTJKTLE. 
 
 Jeduthun's comment as he landed Geor- 
 die and his prize on the bank. " What 
 did you do that for ?" 
 
 " I went to get Aunt Clarke's cat," 
 answered Geordie, shivering. " I didn't 
 think there was any danger." 
 
 " You ain't a very good judge, I guess. 
 Don't you think your aunt could get an- 
 other cat easier than she could find an- 
 other boy ?" 
 
 "She loves Mungo," was Geordie's 
 answer. 
 
 " You'd better run home as fast as you 
 can," said Jeduthun. " Go right to bed 
 and take something warm, and another 
 time don't drown yourself for the sake 
 of an old cat, and a cross-eyed cat at 
 that." 
 
 "I'll go home with you, Geordie," 
 said Mr. Maynard. 
 
 " Do, Mr. Maynard, and then she 
 won't scold him," said Jeduthun, in a 
 low tone. 
 
 " Oh, I don't think she'll mind ; I've
 
 MUNGO. 85 
 
 got my old fishing clothes on," said 
 Geordie, overhearing the remark. 
 
 " Now, George McGregor, if you don't 
 deserved to be whipped !" said Mrs. 
 Clarke as Geordie made his appearance 
 dripping wet and still holding Mungo; 
 " and what have you been doing to that 
 poor cat ?" 
 
 "Geordie has been saving the poor 
 cat's life at the risk of his own, cousin," 
 said Mr. Maynard, as Geordie did not 
 answer. "He saw the beast struggling 
 in the water just above the plaster-mill 
 flume, and very foolishly, I must say 
 jumped in to pull him out. I am afraid 
 you wouldn't have seen either of your 
 pets alive again only for Jeduthun Cooke, 
 for I was too far off to give any help." 
 
 " Well, y.ou are the greatest boy ! But 
 there! don't stop to talk, but run and 
 get off your wet clothes. Bless the 
 child ! does he think I'd rather lose him 
 than an old cat ?" 
 
 In his heart perhaps Geordie was not
 
 86 THE TAME TURTLE. 
 
 quite certain on that matter, but he was 
 thankful not to be scolded, and went up 
 to his room with a lighter heart than he 
 had had for many a day. After all, the 
 world was not so dark not dark at all, 
 since it was true that his heavenly Fa- 
 ther loved him and would forgive and 
 wash away his sin. And might not that 
 same Father make his innocence of the 
 theft clear even to Miss Bartlett ? might 
 he not even let him see the pretty lady 
 again ? At any rate, he could ask. 
 
 After Geordie had gone up stairs, Mrs. 
 Clarke was silent for a few moments, 
 while she was wrapping Mungo in flan- 
 nel and laying him in a basket by the 
 fire. At last she said, though without 
 looking up, 
 
 " I've heard about heaping coals of fire 
 on folks's heads, and I reckon that boy 
 has done it. I'd give almost anything to 
 get that turtle back again." 
 
 " What made you throw him away, in 
 the first place ?" asked Mr. Maynard.
 
 MUNGO, 87 
 
 " I was mad at Geordie for losing my 
 basin, and ever so many things had hap- 
 pened to put me out. I didn't really 
 mean to do it." 
 
 " I don't very well see how you could 
 do it without, meaning," said Mr. May- 
 nard, who was an old friend of Mrs. 
 Clarke's, and stood less in awe of her 
 tongue than most of her acquaintances. 
 " I'll tell you what, Abby, you are not 
 doing right by that boy. Oh yes, I know 
 what you are going to say that you give 
 him plenty to eat and drink and wear, 
 and so on ; but that isn't all a child needs. 
 You might give your melons good soil 
 and plenty of manure and water, but how 
 would they thrive if you never let them 
 have any sunshine ? George is a tender, 
 weak-spirited little fellow, and you are in 
 a fair way to spoil him utterly by your 
 constant faultfinding and unkindness." 
 
 " Well, he needn't mind it so much," 
 answered Mrs. Clarke. " But you needn't 
 say any more. I know I haven't done
 
 THE TAME TURTLE. 
 
 just right, but I don't mean any harm. 
 It's only a way I've got into. Now, John 
 Maynard, I'd just like to know what you 
 are laughing at ?" 
 
 " I was thinking how you would think 
 that excuse sounded in the mouth of old 
 Mr. Peters," said Mr. Maynard. "As 
 thus : ' Oh yes, Mrs. Clarke, I do let my 
 chickens into your garden, and I try to 
 drown your cat, and now and then I help 
 myself to an armful from your woodpile ; 
 but I don't mean any harm by it. I was 
 angry when I threw the cat in the water, 
 and for the rest I mean no harm. It is 
 only my way.' ' 
 
 Mr. Maynard said these words with 
 such an exact imitation of Mr. Peters's 
 pompous and oratorical manner that Mrs. 
 Clarke fairly laughed aloud : 
 
 " I shouldn't think much of it, that's 
 a fact the old villain ! Well, John, I'll 
 own up I haven't done right by the boy. 
 I hated the bother of having him here, 
 and he does put me out by his careless
 
 MUNGO. 89 
 
 ways, but I'll try to do better. Will that 
 suit you ?" 
 
 " Excellently well," said Mr. Maynard. 
 " And now what do you mean to do for 
 the boy in the way of education? I 
 doubt Miss Bartlett's doing much for him 
 after this late performance." 
 
 "I'm sure I don't know," answered 
 Mrs. Clarke. " As you say, he won't do 
 much with that Bartlett woman. I sup- 
 pose if she had been in the water, he 
 would have pulled her out, all the same." 
 
 " I dare say he would. He is a fine 
 little fellow." 
 
 "I'd send him over to Caneota if I 
 could," continued Mrs. Clarke; "but 
 really and truly, John, I can't." 
 
 " And George is hardly old enough or 
 stout enough to be turned loose into such 
 a large school, either. Well, Abby, see 
 here : let George come over and spend a 
 few days with Octavia and me. Then 
 I can find out how much he knows, and 
 what sort of a mind he has ; and if I find 
 
 8*
 
 90 THE TAME TURTLE. 
 
 I can be of service to him, I will take 
 liis education in hand myself." 
 
 " I'm sure you are very good," said 
 Mrs. Clarke ; " but can you find time ?" 
 
 " Oh, I'll make time somehow. I like 
 the boy, and he is the son of an old 
 friend. Send him up to-morrow if he 
 is well enough ; and by the way, you 
 had better look after him a little. I 
 don't like the way he complains of the 
 back of his head." 
 
 " Sonny, are you in bed ?" called Mrs. 
 Clarke, from the foot of the stairs, as she 
 shut the door after Mr. Maynard. 
 
 A box on the ear would not have 
 astonished Geordie so much as this home- 
 ly pet name coming from his aunt. 
 
 "No, aunt," he answered; "I have 
 put on my other clothes to come down 
 and chop the kindlings." 
 
 " Never you mind the kindlings. Jump 
 right into bed, and I'll bring up a nice 
 supper. I'm afraid you'll get your death 
 of cold as it is."
 
 MUNGO. 91 
 
 Geordie was not sorry to obey, for lie 
 felt chilled and all his bones ached. He 
 had just got settled when Mrs. Clarke 
 came up carrying a tray on which was 
 arranged a tempting supper. 
 
 " There ! sit up and eat your supper," 
 said she, wrapping a warm shawl round 
 his shoulders. "For Goodness's sake, 
 child, what made you run such a risk 
 for that old cross cat ?" 
 
 " He mewed so pitifully, and I thought 
 how badly you would feel if he was 
 drowned," answered Geordie. "I couldn't 
 go away and leave him there, and I had 
 to be quick, for he was almost gone. I 
 can swim, you know, and I didn't think 
 there was any danger till I got in. How 
 is the old fellow ? Do you think he will 
 live?" 
 
 " Oh yes, he is all right. Here he 
 comes to answer for himself. Well, I 
 declare, Geordie ! he acts as if he knew 
 you had saved him, don't he ?" 
 
 " He knows ever so much, Mungo
 
 92 THE TAME TURTLE. 
 
 does, if he isn't very good-natured," said 
 Geordie, caressing the old cat, which 
 was indeed rubbing his head on Geordie's 
 face and hands with the most overflowing 
 affection. " He never would let me touch 
 him before." 
 
 " Well, there ! don't give him all your 
 supper, child. Don't you feel hungry ?" 
 
 " Not very," answered Geordie ; " but 
 the tea tastes real good." 
 
 " I'll get you another cup. Warm tea 
 is the best thing for you. You are shiv- 
 ering yet, I see." 
 
 Mrs. Clarke brought the tea, and then 
 bestirred herself to provide hot bricks 
 and warm flannels for Geordie, who was 
 still cold. 
 
 " Now, can I do anything more for 
 you?" she asked. Her tone and man- 
 ner were so kind that Geordie was 
 emboldened to make a request which 
 at another time he would never have 
 thought of: 
 
 " If you don't mind, aunt "
 
 MUNGO. 93 
 
 "I don't. What is it?" 
 
 " If you would read me a chapter in 
 the Bible, as mother used to." 
 
 " To be sure I will a dozen of them 
 if you choose. Where shall I begin ?" 
 
 " About the lost sheep and the prodi- 
 gal son, please." 
 
 Mrs. Clarke's voice was naturally clear 
 and sweet, and she read with expression. 
 Geordie listened with quiet contentment 
 to the beautiful story. 
 
 " Thank you ever so much," said he 
 when the chapter was finished. " What 
 a nice, clear voice you- have got !" 
 
 "When I am not scoldig, I suppose 
 you mean," said Mrs. Clarke. " George 
 McGregor, I will never scold you again 
 as long as you live ; so there !" 
 
 " I shall have to be awful good, then," 
 said Geordie, smiling. " Aunt, I am 
 sorry I said you were a wicked woman." 
 
 "You shut up and go to sleep," was 
 the only reply. 
 
 The words were rough, but the man-
 
 94 ' THE TAME TURTLE. 
 
 ner was not, and presently Geordie was 
 surprised by a warm, tender kiss which 
 reminded him of his mother. 
 
 " There ! go to sleep as fast as you can, 
 and wake up all right to-morrow. I'll 
 make it up to him somehow," said Mrs. 
 Clarke as she descended the stairs. " I'll 
 buy him a nice dog or a parrot or some- 
 thing if I have to go without my new 
 dress."
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 THE COVERED DISH. 
 
 Ik' HE next morning, about nine 
 o'clock, a buggy stopped at Mrs. 
 Clarke's gate, and a fair, smiling, 
 middle-aged lady in black de- 
 scended therefrom and was met at the 
 door by Mrs. Clarke. 
 
 " Oh, Aunt Fairchild ! I never was 
 so glad to see anybody in my life." 
 
 "That's good," said Mrs. Fairchild, 
 kissing her. " But what's the matter, 
 Abby ?" for it was very evident that 
 something was the matter. Mrs. Clarke's 
 work was not " done up," and she her- 
 self looked pale and anxious. 
 
 " Geordie is very sick," was her reply. 
 " I have been up with him almost all 
 night, and I have sent for the doctor, but 
 he hasn't come." 
 
 05
 
 96 THE TAME TURTLE. 
 
 " How does he complain ?" asked Mrs. 
 Fairchild. 
 
 "He aches all over, and has such a 
 pain in the back of his neck that he can't 
 lie down at all. Do go up and see him. 
 He is out of his head just now, and keeps 
 singing and talking Indian, and asking 
 about his turtle," said Mrs. Clarke, with 
 a sob in her voice ; and then, as if feel- 
 ing the need of relieving her mind by 
 scolding somebody, " I wish that doctor 
 would come ! I don't see what he thinks 
 he is good for." 
 
 "Maybe he's been called away," said 
 Mrs. Fairchild. " Shall I go up and see 
 Geordie? You needn't be frightened 
 because he is out of his head. Some 
 people always are so with the least bit 
 of fever." 
 
 When Mrs. Fairchild saw Geordie, 
 however, she looked very grave. She 
 was a practised nurse and a very acute 
 observer, and she saw at once that the 
 child was very sick.
 
 THE COVERED DISH. 97 
 
 " How did it come on ?" she asked. 
 
 " With a chill," answered Mrs. Clarke. 
 " He got very wet yesterday going into 
 the water after my old cat, that Peters 
 threw in. I sent him straight to bed, 
 and tried to warm him up, but he had a 
 hard chill about midnight, and has been 
 crazy ever since." 
 
 "Why, Geordie, what's the matter?" 
 said Aunt Fairchild, cheerfully. "You 
 know Aunty Fairchild, don't you ?" 
 
 "Oh, I am so glad you are come," 
 cried poor Geordie. "You will make 
 her give me my turtle, won't you ? My 
 hands are so hot, and I know he would 
 do them good, he is always so cool. You 
 will make her get him for me, won't 
 you ?" 
 
 "But I can't, Geordie," said Mrs. 
 Clarke, her eyes running over with tears. 
 " I'd go to the end of the earth to get 
 him if I could." 
 
 " There ! I wouldn't reason with him. 
 It isn't ever a bit of use," whispered 
 
 9 G
 
 98 THE .TAME TUKTLE. 
 
 Aunt Fairchild ; and then turning to 
 Geordie, she said, soothingly, "I don't 
 believe I would hold the turtle or have 
 him up here now, Geordie. You wouldn't 
 want to make him sick, you know." 
 
 Geordie seemed satisfied for the mo- 
 ment, and began singing in Indian fash- 
 ion : " Hy hya ho ! Hy hya ho !" 
 
 Mrs. Fairchild beckoned Mrs. Clarke 
 out of the room : 
 
 " I guess I'd better stay a while, Abby. 
 I can as well as not, for Flossy is at the 
 cure, and the house is shut up for a while. 
 I was going over to Mrs. Parsons's for a 
 little visit, but I guess you'll want help." 
 
 " Oh, if you could stay !" said Mrs. 
 Clarke. " But then you'll lose your va- 
 cation, and I dare say you need rest." 
 
 " Never mind ; I can rest afterward." 
 
 " "What do you think of Geordie ?" 
 
 "Well, I don't know exactly you 
 see so many things come on- with chills ; 
 but from the way he complains, I'm ra- 
 ther afraid of this disease they call the
 
 THE COVERED DISH. 99 
 
 spotted fever, though that ain't the right 
 name for it.". 
 
 " He'll die, then, of course," said Mrs. 
 Clarke, in a tone of utter despair. " Every- 
 body does." 
 
 " Oh no, "not everybody, by any means ; 
 but it's an ugly disease, and want* to be 
 well taken care of. I wish the doctor 
 would come. Meantime, we mu*t keep 
 Geordie as quiet as we can. I'd let him 
 have his turtle if he wants it. It can't 
 do any great harm, and it may do him 
 good to humour him." 
 
 " Let him ! I only wish I could. But 
 I got in a passion and threw it away, and 
 the poor little fellow has almost broken 
 his heart about it. And after all that, 
 he must go and kill himself to save that 
 old cat. Well, it will be a good change 
 for him, anyhow, poor child ! but it will 
 break my heart." 
 
 " Oh, we won't give him up, by any 
 means," said Mrs. Fairchild, cheerfully ; 
 " but, 'Vbby, my dear, if you'd only let it
 
 100 THE TAME TURTLE. 
 
 be a lesson to you ! I know you mean to 
 do right " 
 
 "I didn't," interrupted Mrs. Clarke. 
 " It was all my wicked temper." 
 
 " Well, in general, I think you mean 
 to do right, and to be kind too, and you 
 put yourself out ever so much for folks, 
 but you don't consider their feelings as 
 you should, especially the feelings of 
 children. And if we ain't, considerate 
 to them, why, we can't expect them to 
 be considerate to us when they grow up. 
 I tell you, Abby, there's a great many 
 times when a word is a great deal better 
 than a gift. I never would let my chil- 
 dren get in the way of teasing and say- 
 ing hard things, even in fun. But don't 
 be too much discouraged about Geordie. 
 He may come out all right, you know. 
 It seems a kind of providence that I 
 happened over just now, because I can 
 stay just as well as not, and you'll need 
 help." 
 
 All the time she was delivering this
 
 THE COVERED DISH. 101 
 
 little homily, Aunt Fairchild TV as taking 
 off her bonnet, putting on her cap, and 
 tying on a large white apron over her 
 black dress. 
 
 Mrs. Clarke did not resent the advice. 
 She was too miserable not to feel the 
 comfort of kindness. Besides, Aunt 
 Fairchild was accounted the best nurse 
 in critical cases in all the country round. 
 She had formerly lived in Boon vi lie, 
 where her husband owned a fine farm ; 
 but after his loss of property and death, 
 she had moved to the Springs. Mrs. 
 Clarke was not really her niece, but 
 only the second wife of her nephew-in- 
 law ; but every one called Mrs. Fairchild 
 " Aunt." 
 
 The doctor came at last, and pro- 
 nounced Geordie's disease to be spotted 
 fever, or meningitis. It was a severe 
 attack, but not hopeless as yet. How- 
 ever, notwithstanding all that could be 
 done, Geordie grew worse every hour. 
 He wandered in mind nearly all the time; 
 
 9*
 
 102 THE TAME TUETLE. 
 
 but after a while, to Mrs. Clarke's relief, 
 he ceased talking about the turtle, and 
 seemed to imagine himself once more 
 in Minnesota, now with his father and 
 mother, now among his Indian friends. 
 He took little notice of Mrs. Clarke, but 
 seemed pleased to see Mrs. Fairchild, 
 and was more quiet with her than with 
 any one else. 
 
 The case excited great interest in the 
 little community, and there were many 
 inquiries for the child, and more good 
 things sent in for his eating than could 
 have been consumed in a fortnight. 
 
 The story of the whipping had taken 
 wing, of course, and was told again and 
 again, with many exaggerations, as usual. 
 Miss Bartlett knew that she was blamed 
 by every one, and felt very uncomfort- 
 able, but she entrenched herself in that 
 impregnable self-esteem which she called 
 firmness and decision, and said she had 
 only done her duty, and should do the 
 same again under the same circumstances.
 
 THE COVEEED DISH. 103 
 
 She had two warm supporters in Mr. 
 and Mrs. Gardner. They were people 
 who could see no faults in their own 
 children. Mrs. Gardner declared proudly 
 that Ira had never told a lie in his life 
 an assertion which made David Brown 
 open his eyes very wide and caused Tom 
 Parsons to utter an involuntary whistle. 
 
 "You may whistle if you choose, 
 Thomas," said Mrs. Gardner, with some 
 dignity and more asperity, " but I know 
 my own children; and I know their 
 faults. Ira is too open-handed and too 
 open-hearted. It would be well for him 
 if he were less outspoken and less gen- 
 erous; but as for telling lies or using 
 deceit, never !" 
 
 " What does thee think of that ?" said 
 David, when the boys were alone to- 
 gether. 
 
 " ' Every crow thinks her own brood 
 white as snow,' " quoted Tom. " I sup- 
 pose she really does think so." 
 
 " But thee don't believe Geordie stole
 
 104 THE TAME TURTLE. 
 
 the knife?" said David, with some in- 
 dignation in his tones. 
 
 " No, that I don't. I thought he told 
 a curious kind of story, but I don't 
 doubt its being true. You know Geor- 
 die is a real gentlemanly, pleasant little 
 chap; and if he got set down by the 
 woman, and they got talking, she might 
 give him a little present as likely as not. 
 As to the knives being alike, that is 
 nonsense. Of course there are hundreds 
 of knives made all to the same pattern." 
 
 " But thee thought Ira believed the 
 knife was his. Now, I don't." 
 
 " I did at first, but I don't now, Dave. 
 You just ask him about it, and see how 
 he will squirm," said Tom, scornfully. 
 
 " Maybe he thought so at first, and 
 then found out the truth," said David. 
 
 "Why don't he tell, then, and clear 
 poor Geordie, like a man ?" asked Tom, 
 scornfully. 
 
 "Because he expects Miss Bartlett 
 will give it to him if he does," said
 
 THE COVERED DISH. 105 
 
 David, shrewdly. " Thee won't catch Ira 
 Gardner risking his precious skin for 
 anybody, for all he is so sincere and open 
 hearted. Has thee heard from Geordie 
 to-day ?" 
 
 "He is very sick," said Tom, sadly. 
 "Auntie Fairchild says to-night will 
 most likely decide. She says if they 
 live over the fourth day they most al- 
 ways get well. I wonder how his aunt 
 feels ? I have no doubt she thinks over 
 many things that trouble her." 
 
 "I guess she does," answered David. 
 " Mother says she never saw any one so 
 cut up. She said to mother, ' If you 
 think there's any use in praying, I wish 
 you'd pray for my boy. Folks think, 
 because I used to talk rough to him, that 
 I didn't care for him, but I tell you it 
 will just kill me if that child dies.'" 
 
 " Poor woman !" said Tom. " Maybe 
 she will be different if George gets well. 
 Father says he believes Geordie was a 
 real little Christian. As for his owning
 
 106 THE TAME TURTLE. 
 
 up about the knife, I don't think any- 
 thing of that. Miss Bartlett half killed 
 him, and frightened him besides. Fa- 
 ther prays for him, I can tell you ; but 
 he says if Geordie was to die, he should 
 feel as if it was all right. He is an 
 orphan, you know, and such a tender- 
 spirited little fellow besides. I'll tell 
 you what," said Tom, with a kind of 
 sob in his voice : "if he does die, I shall 
 never want to see Ira again, nor Miss 
 Bartlett either." 
 
 Ira himself was very uncomfortable. 
 He knew that he ought to tell the truth 
 and free Geordie from suspicion, but he 
 was afraid afraid of being laughed at 
 by the boys and punished by Miss Bart- 
 lett afraid of what Mrs. Clarke might 
 say or do to him. Perhaps Geordie might 
 die, and then there would be no need of 
 saying anything. 
 
 " And I didn't tell a lie, either," Ira 
 said to himself. " I did really think the 
 knife was mine. It isn't telling a lie not
 
 THE COVERED DISH. 107 
 
 to say anything, so long as nobody asks 
 me." 
 
 So Ira reasoned, but he knew very 
 well that his reasoning would not " hold 
 water," as the saying is that in keeping 
 silence when he ought to speak he was 
 deceiving as much as if he had told a 
 lie in so many words. It was not pleas- 
 ant to think of poor Geordie lying there, 
 drawing with every hour nearer to the 
 grave, with the shadow of a false accu- 
 sation resting on him. 
 
 " But I don't see how I can do any- 
 thing about it," said Ira to himself. 
 " Things have got to take their way. It 
 will all come round somehow, whether I 
 say anything or not." 
 
 It did not occur to Ira that the com- 
 ing round might involve consequences 
 quite as disagreeable to himself as an 
 open and frank confession. 
 
 "It all depends on the next twelve 
 hours," said Doctor Rose, in a low tone, 
 as he rose from Geordie's bedside. "If
 
 108 THE TAME TUETLE. 
 
 he lives till this time to-morrow, he will 
 probably get well." 
 
 " Then you don't quite give him up ?" 
 said Mrs. Fairchild. 
 
 " Oh no ; I never give up a child so 
 long as the breath of life is in it. But 
 he is a very sick boy, and it will not be 
 strange if the change comes at any mo- 
 ment. I will ride over again as early as 
 possible in the morning." 
 
 Mrs. Clarke had not spoken, but she 
 got up as the doctor left the room, and 
 followed him down stairs. 
 
 "Doctor," said she, laying her hand 
 on his arm " doctor, if you'll only save 
 him " She could add no more, for her 
 voice was choked with sobs. 
 
 "My dear Mrs. Clarke, I have done 
 my best," said Doctor Rose, kindly ; " but 
 you know, after all, that is very little. 
 The case is in higher hands than ours. 
 The poor child has had the best of care 
 and nursing that is one comfort." 
 
 Mrs. Clarke drew a long breath, and
 
 THE COVERED DISH. 109 
 
 then spoke in her old sharp tone, as Doc- 
 tor Rose began putting on his gloves : 
 
 "Now, see here, Doctor Rose, you're 
 not going home through the rain without 
 eating anything. You have got to have 
 some tea and something to eat. Next 
 thing you'll be sick, and then your folks 
 will blame me." 
 
 Doctor Rose smiled, and sat down 
 again. He was shrewd as well as kind, 
 and he knew that the little bustle of get- 
 ting tea would divert Mrs. Clarke from 
 her grief for the moment, and make her 
 better able to endure the long and sor- 
 rowful night-watch which was likely to 
 end so sadly. So he sat still while Mrs. 
 Clarke got together a dainty supper, and 
 then persuaded her to take a cup of tea 
 with him, " for company." The poor 
 woman had eaten nothing all day, and 
 she really felt better and more cheerful 
 for her supper. She was just clearing 
 the dishes away when Jeduthun Cooke 
 came in. 
 10
 
 110 THE TAME TUETLE. 
 
 " I thought you'd be better of a man 
 in the house to-night, Mrs. Clarke," said 
 he, treading as lightly as a cat, and tak- 
 ing out of her hand the pot she was just 
 going to put away. "You just let me 
 do everything down here, and then you 
 lie down a little and let Mis' Fairchild 
 and me take care of the boy. You know 
 I'm a first-rate nurse, and I don't mind 
 sitting up no more than Mungo. Where 
 is the old cat ? I reckoned he wouldn't 
 hardly get over his ducking." 
 
 " He's up on Geordie's bed," answered 
 Mrs. Clarke, with a rush of tears which 
 seemed to give some relief to her hot 
 and throbbing head. " He won't leave 
 the child, night or day, for more than 
 five minutes. It is so curious, because 
 he never would let Geordie touch him 
 before." 
 
 " Dumb beasts know a sight more 
 than most folks suppose," said Jeduthun, 
 sententiously. " Now, you lie down and 
 let me and Mis' Fairchild do the nurs-
 
 THE COVEKED DISH. Ill 
 
 ing a little while. If you are not care- 
 ful, you will be sick yourself." 
 
 Mrs. Clarke had always been averse to 
 accepting neighbourly help of any kind, 
 but she made no resistance to Jeduthun's 
 proposition, earnestly backed up as it 
 was by Mrs. Fairchild, and lay down in 
 her own room, which opened from Geor- 
 die's. She would not consent to move 
 farther away. Tt seemed to her that she 
 had hardly fallen asleep when she was 
 awakened by Mrs. Fairchild, who put 
 her iinger on her lip as Mrs. Clarke 
 started up. 
 
 " Geordie's quite sensible, and wants 
 to see you," she whispered. " He says 
 he's got something to say. If I was you, 
 I'd let him say it all quietly without 
 interrupting him. That's generally the 
 best way, unless there's some good rea- 
 son why they shouldn't talk." 
 
 " But how do you think he is ?" asked 
 Mrs. Clarke. 
 
 "Well, he's no worse, as I can see,
 
 112 THE TAME TUKTLE. 
 
 and his skin seems just a little cooler. 
 He's quite himself too, but we can't 
 build much on that. It may be just the 
 lighting up before the last, you know, or 
 it may be a sign that the fever's turned. 
 But keep yourself quiet, whatever hap- 
 pens. It all depends on that." 
 
 Geordie was lying, or rather sitting, 
 in bed, supported by Jeduthun. He 
 smiled as Mrs. Clarke entered, and feebly 
 put out his hand to take hers, but he 
 did not speak for a minute or two. Then 
 he said, 
 
 " The doctor thinks I'm going to die, 
 don't he?" 
 
 Mrs. Clarke could not speak, but 
 Mrs. Fairchild answered, cheerfully, 
 
 " Oh no, he did not say that. He said 
 you were a very sick boy, but he didn't 
 give up hope, by any means. But may- 
 be you had better say what you want to 
 now." 
 
 " I don't feel afraid," said Geordie, 
 softly " not now. They are all there
 
 THE COVERED DISH. 113 
 
 father and mother and baby, and all. 
 Aunt Clarke, I have made you a great 
 deal of trouble." 
 
 " No, Geordie, you have made me very 
 little trouble for a boy of your age," said 
 Mrs. Clarke, with such an effort at calm- 
 ness that her voice did not sound like 
 itself. " I have made you more trouble 
 than ever you did me." 
 
 " You didn't mean to, I know," said 
 Geordie ; " only you didn't think I would 
 mind so much. Aunt Clarke, that money 
 will all be yours now, won't it ?" 
 
 Mrs. Clarke remembered how often 
 she had said to herself that the property 
 would all have been hers only for that 
 bothering boy, and a spasm in her throat 
 almost choked her as she answered : 
 
 " Yes, I suppose so." 
 
 "Then will you please do something 
 for me ? It won't cost so very much." 
 
 " I'll do anything you like, Geordie, 
 whatever it costs." 
 
 " Then, please, I should like to have 
 
 10 * H
 
 114 THE TAME TUETLE. 
 
 you send a present for me to Michael 
 and Marie Choquette. Michael would 
 like a nice revolver, I know, and Marie a 
 shawl and a rattle for the baby. Jedu- 
 thun will pick out the revolver for you, 
 won't you, Jeduthun ?" 
 
 " Course I will," said Jeduthun ; " but 
 I guess you'll live to pick it out your- 
 self, Geordie." 
 
 "I should like Marie's shawl to be a 
 red plaid Indians like red. And please 
 give my love to them, and tell them, I 
 shall never forget them." 
 
 " I guess you've talked long enough, 
 Geordie," interposed Mrs. Fairchild. 
 
 " I only want to say a little more," 
 said Geordie. "Aunt Clarke, however 
 it turns out, I don't want you to feel sorry 
 because I went in after the cat maybe I 
 should have been sick anyway. And if 
 my turtle should come back Mr. May- 
 nard says he may, perhaps will you 
 please to be good to him, and give him 
 some little bits of raw meat sometimes ?
 
 THE COVERED DISH. 115 
 
 And please let Mr. Maynard be at ray 
 funeral, and ask him to say that I didn't 
 take the knife, and that the pretty lady 
 I met on the cars did give it to me, as I 
 said at first." 
 
 "Yes, we'll attend to it," said Je- 
 duthun. " Nobody thinks you took the 
 knife. There ! I wouldn't say any more." 
 
 With his usual docility, Geordie obeyed ; 
 and leaning on Jeduthun's breast, he 
 seemed to fall asleep. Everything was 
 as still as death for an hour or so. Then 
 Geordie waked with a sigh. 
 
 " What is it, dear ?" asked Mrs. Fair- 
 child. 
 
 " I should like my head a little lower, 
 please," said Geordie. 
 
 " How do you feel ?" asked Mrs. Fair- 
 child as she felt Geordie's hands, which 
 were a little moist. 
 
 "Sleepy," said Geordie, with a faint 
 smile. 
 
 Mrs. Fairchild arranged the pillows, 
 and Jeduthun very gently and carefully
 
 116 THE TAME TURTLE. 
 
 lowered him upon them. Geordie turned 
 partly on his side with a faint little sigh, 
 put his hand under his cheek, and drop- 
 ped off to sleep again. 
 
 "That's worth more than a thousand 
 dollars," said Jeduthun, in the lowest of 
 whispers. 
 
 " Yes, indeed ; I hope it's the turn for 
 good," said Mrs. Fairchild, in the same 
 tone. "If only the spasms don't come 
 on and I hope they won't, for he's get- 
 ting quite a perspiration I do really be- 
 lieve he'll get through, Abby." 
 
 " If he does," said Mrs. Clarke, " I'll 
 be a Christian, if the thing is in me." 
 
 " And so you will if he don't, or I miss 
 my guess," said Jeduthun ; " but he will. 
 I feel it in my bones. Now, I'm going 
 down to make you women some tea, and 
 you must go down and drink it ;" and 
 treading like a panther, Jeduthun left 
 the room. 
 
 Jeduthun was right. The next day 
 Geordie was decidedly better, and the
 
 THE COVERED DISH. 117 
 
 next he was pronounced out of danger. 
 He was very weak, however, and had 
 almost no appetite. 
 
 "Now, Geordie, I've brought you a 
 nice supper, and I expect you'll eat it 
 every bit." 
 
 Mrs. Clarke had never once relapsed 
 into " George McGregor." She placed 
 a tray before Geordie as she spoke on 
 which was a covered dish, and Geor- 
 die, looking up, wondered what made his 
 aunt look so smiling. 
 
 " Now, remember, you must eat every 
 bit of it," said Mrs. Clarke as she took 
 the cover off the dish. 
 
 Geordie glanced at the dish without 
 much interest ; and then starting up, he 
 uttered a cry of joy : 
 
 " My turtle my own dear, darling 
 turtle ! The very same one ! I know 
 him by that place where Mr. Peters-'s 
 chicken pecked him. My dear darling 
 turtle ! Just see him try to come to me !" 
 
 And in effect the turtle was making
 
 118 THE TAME TURTLE. 
 
 frantic attempts to scramble out of the 
 dish toward his master. Geordie put 
 down his hand. The turtle crept into it, 
 and rubbed his queer spotted head on his 
 master's thumb with an expression of 
 perfect content. 
 
 " I declare, I believe he is glad to see 
 you," said Mrs. Clarke, with something 
 rather suspiciously bright shining in her 
 eyes. 
 
 "And I'm sure I'm glad to see him. 
 Where did you find him ?" 
 
 " Sitting in his pen, looking as if it 
 was just as he expected and he never 
 thought anything else," said Mrs. Clarke, 
 laughing. " He may have been there 
 two or three clays." 
 
 " Poor little fellow ! I dare say he is 
 hungry," said Geordie. 
 
 " That means you want some raw meat 
 to feed him," said Mrs. Clarke. " Now, 
 if I get you some, will you promise to 
 eat a good bit of steak yourself?" 
 
 " Yes, I truly will, Aunt Clarke. But
 
 THE COVERED DISH. 119 
 
 he must have some water. He won't eat 
 unless he sits in the water," said Geordie, 
 quite excited. 
 
 With unheard of patience, Mrs. Clarke 
 supplied the water and the meat, and even 
 felt herself complimented when the small 
 reptile condescended to pull a bit of beef 
 from her fingers. 
 
 ." Well, I never was more glad to see 
 anything," said Geordie, after he had ful- 
 filled his promise respecting the beef, and 
 was lying back contemplating his turtle. 
 
 "You are not half as glad as I am, 
 sonny," said Mrs. Clarke. 
 
 "You don't know how good that 
 sounds," said Geordie, patting his aunt's 
 fingers. " That first time you said it, I. 
 thought it was almost worth jumping 
 into the water for." 
 
 " Geordie," said his aunt, after a little 
 silence, " suppose we both turn over a new 
 leaf. Shall we? I'll try to leave off 
 scolding and finding fault, and you try 
 to be less afraid of me."
 
 120 THE TAME TURTLE. 
 
 " I'm not one bit afraid of you now," 
 replied Geordie. " I know you meant to 
 be good all the time." 
 
 " No, Geordie, I didn't ; I can't flatter 
 myself. I knew I was cross all the time, 
 and I thought I had a right to be because 
 I had lost money and had to work so 
 hard, and I never tried to be otherwise. 
 The truth is, I have been going wrong 
 this long time. I was a professor of re- 
 ligion once, but I got careless and did 
 things that I knew were wrong ; and 
 then, because I was inconsistent myself, 
 I tried to think that everybody else was 
 so. Then I married against my father's 
 will. My husband is dead and gone. I 
 don't want to say anything about him, 
 but he never was any good to himself or 
 any one else. I let my troubles embitter 
 me and drive me farther and farther from 
 God. I was growing harder and harder all 
 the time, and I don't know where I should 
 have stopped. I feel as if your coming 
 had been the saving of me. I'm going
 
 THE COVERED DIS1I. 121 
 
 to try and be a different woman from this 
 time out. I dare say I shall be cross a 
 good many times, but you mustn't mind 
 if I am. It's hard to teach an old dog 
 new tricks, you know." 
 
 "Mungo has learned lots of new tricks," 
 remarked Geordie, patting the old cat, 
 who still kept close to him. "He has 
 never growled at me since I was sick." 
 
 " Well, I won't growl, either, if I can 
 help it," replied Mrs. Clarke, smiling. 
 " It's all right now, isn't it ?" 
 
 " Yes, indeed !" answered Geordie ; 
 " only about the knife." 
 
 " We'll try to straighten out that mat- 
 ter too," said Mrs. Clarke. "I don't 
 think anybody but Miss Bartlett believes 
 you took the knife, and she isn't of much 
 account." 
 
 " She never did like me," said Geordie : 
 " I wonder what was the reason ?" 
 
 " Oh, she is just one of the folks that 
 take notions. Never you mind about her. 
 
 We will make it all right, somehow." 
 11
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 A TRIP TO MILBT. 
 
 EORDIE was sitting on the front 
 step of his aunt's house looking 
 rather disconsolate. He had im- 
 proved rapidly up to a certain 
 point, and there he seemed to stand still. 
 He had been delighted with the prospect 
 of studying Latin with Mr. Maynard, 
 and had taken great pleasure in hunting 
 out his old books from his father's library, 
 which was stored in his aunt's garret. 
 But when he tried to study, he found it 
 quite impossible. Half an hour's appli- 
 cation brought on the pain in the back 
 of his head, and made his eyes see all 
 manner of colours, and Dr. Rose had 
 absolutely forbidden his trying to study 
 at present. 
 122
 
 A TEIP TO MILBY. 123 
 
 " You must play out of doors and work 
 in the garden and go fishing, or help Mr. 
 Maynard catch beetles and moths/' said the 
 doctor, kindly. "Think what an honour 
 it would be to discover a new butterfly, or 
 enrich the natural history of your coun- 
 try by a beetle a quarter of an inch 
 long!" 
 
 Geordie laughed, but he felt very much 
 disappointed and very unhappy. To add 
 to his discomfort, one of those persons 
 who seem born to say the wrong thing 
 on all occasions had remarked to Aunt 
 Clarke, in his hearing, that people often 
 became blind after spotted fever. 
 
 " Never heard of such a thing in my 
 life," said Mrs. Clarke, shortly. 
 
 " Oh, but they do. I heard of ever 
 so many people in Milby ; and besides, 
 George complains just as my cousin did 
 that went blind." 
 
 " George, I wish you'd take the little 
 pail and run over to Mrs. Cooke's and 
 get some buttermilk," said Mrs. Clarke;
 
 124 . THE TAME TURTLE. 
 
 "and you might take the basket too. 
 Maybe you'll find some mushrooms." 
 
 When George had gone, Mrs. Clarke 
 turned on her visitor : 
 
 " Lorenda Hitchcock, don't you know 
 better than to talk in that way before 
 that sick child ?" 
 
 " Why, what did I say ?" asked Miss 
 Hitchcock, bewildered by the suddenness 
 and fierceness of the attack. 
 
 "What did you say? You said the 
 very thing of all others that you shouldn't 
 have said putting the notion into his 
 head that he is going to be blind ! I 
 wouldn't have had it for anything." 
 
 " But if it is to be, he might as well be 
 prepared," said Miss Hitchcock, attempt- 
 ing a feeble defence. " Don't you think 
 so?" 
 
 " No, I don't," answered Mrs. Clarke, 
 sharply. " Nobody ever is prepared in 
 that way. It's time enough to be prepared 
 when the trouble comes ; and besides, I 
 don't believe it. The child is weak, and
 
 A TRIP TO MILBY. . 125 
 
 his eyes are weak in consequence, as any 
 one might know that knows anything. 
 Well, there ! I don't mean to scold," added 
 Mrs. Clarke, catching herself up ; " but 
 I must say, Lorenda, I do think you 
 might have more sense." 
 
 " Well, I'm sure I'm sorry if I've done 
 any harm," said poor Miss Hitchcock ; and 
 she really was. She took pains to way- 
 lay Geordie on his return, when he had 
 been somewhat diverted by his mushroom 
 hunt, and tell him that he mustn't think 
 too much of what she had said very 
 likely there wasn't anything in it; and 
 anyhow, if he should be blind, his aunt 
 was able to send him to an asylum, where 
 he could learn to make baskets or brooms, 
 and very likely earn enough to support 
 himself handsomely. Having thus fixed 
 the idea indelibly in Geordie's mind, Miss 
 Hitchcock returned to her sewing with a 
 conscience at ease. 
 
 "Never you mind what Lorenda Hitch- 
 cock says," said Mrs. Clarke as she kissed 
 n*
 
 126 THE TAME TUETLE. 
 
 Geordie good-night. "She don't know 
 anything about it." 
 
 But Geordie did mind very much. 
 He was rather given to brooding and 
 borrowing trouble ; and though he tried 
 very hard not to think about the matter, 
 he was haunted by the image of himself 
 making baskets or brooms for a living, 
 and perhaps led about by a little boy to 
 sell them ; and he never woke in the 
 night without looking at the window the 
 first thing, to be sure that he could see. 
 He weeded his aunt's garden, and made 
 a new and gorgeous mansion for the 
 turtle, and went fishing, and hunted 
 mushrooms, and did everything his aunt 
 would allow him to do about the house, 
 but still the time hung heavy on his 
 hands, and the question kept constantly 
 recurring, " What if he should be 
 blind?" 
 
 Besides the fear of blindness, Geordie 
 had another trouble, and that was about 
 the knife. His aunt had sent to town
 
 A TRIP TO MILBY. 127 
 
 and bought him another, as good, or bet- 
 ter, but that was not quite enough. Geor- 
 die knew that Miss Bartlett and a good 
 many of his schoolmates still believed 
 him guilty, and the knowledge distressed 
 him greatly. On this very day he had 
 tried to set matters right with Miss Bart- 
 lett, but had only succeeded in making 
 them worse. Miss Bartlett had listened 
 to his explanations, and then replied 
 coldly and severely that she was sorry 
 to see that his illness had done him no 
 good, and that now the fear of punish- 
 ment was removed he was as ready as 
 ever to tell lies and to persist in them, 
 and finally forbade him ever to speak to 
 her upon the subject again. 
 
 Geordie did not tell his aunt the result 
 of this interview, for he knew how angry 
 she would be. She was not at home just 
 now, having gone to see a sick neighbour, 
 and Geordie was sitting on the steps with 
 old Mungo, feeling very unhappy indeed, 
 and almost wishing that his troubles had
 
 128 THE TAME TURTLE. 
 
 ended with his sickness. He was look- 
 ing down at Mungo, feeling that the 
 tears were very close to his eyes, when 
 the gate was opened, and Jeduthun Cooke 
 came in. 
 
 " Aunt Clarke at home ?" asked Jedu- 
 thun. 
 
 " No ; she went to carry something to 
 Aunt Betsy Robbins, and to sit with her 
 a little while. Aunt Betsy is sick again." 
 
 "Yes, the old woman has lots of 
 trouble, but she keeps up wonderfully, 
 considering how old she is," said Jedu- 
 thun. " She's very good company when 
 she's able to talk, she knows so many 
 stories about old times. But seems to 
 ine you look kind of out of sorts, Geor- 
 die ; anything new happened ? I thought 
 you and Aunt Clarke got along first rate 
 nowadays ?" 
 
 "Oh, we do," answered Geordie, 
 brightening up. " She is just as good 
 as she can be; only she won't let me 
 help her as much as I want to."
 
 A TRIP TO MILBY. 129 
 
 " Well, what is it, then ? Coine, tell 
 ine all about it," said Jeduthun, sitting 
 down on the step beside Geordie. " Some 
 things that seem pretty big when we keep 
 thinking them over and over look dif- 
 ferent when we talk about them. I've 
 got a holiday this afternoon, and I feel 
 just like sitting here and talking. I 
 see you a-speaking with Miss Bartlett a 
 little while ago." 
 
 "Yes," said Geordie; "I was trying 
 to tell her about the knife, but she won't 
 hear me. She says I am sticking to a 
 lie, and told me never to mention the 
 subject again." 
 
 "Well, I wouldn't," said Jeduthun. 
 " There ain't no use in it. She's such, 
 a woman that if she had said she was 
 going to die on a certain day, she'd jump 
 into the mill-pond just to prove she 
 wasn't mistaken. I wouldn't worry 
 about that matter. It will all come out 
 some time, you'll see. Is there anything 
 else?" 
 
 i
 
 130 THE TAME TITKTLE. 
 
 " Only my eyes," said Geordie, mourn- 
 fully. " They get worse and worse every 
 day." 
 
 " Are you sure they do get worse, or is 
 it only that you have taken to noticing 
 them more?" asked Jeduthun. "Aunt 
 Clarke told me Miss Hitchcock said some- 
 thing about it. Hasn't that set you to 
 thinking of your eyes a good deal ?" 
 
 Geordie confessed that it had. 
 
 " Well, that's only natural. However, 
 i wouldn't let that trouble me, neither. 
 Spots in folks' eyes come from a great 
 many different causes, and ain't always a 
 sign of blindness, by any means. Why, 
 when I was in the army, and had been 
 on short rations for two or three days, 
 my eyes would see all sorts of colours. I 
 wouldn't be afraid to bet that you'd beat 
 me now shooting at a mark." 
 
 " I used to be a good shot," said 
 Geordie, brightening up a little ; " but I 
 haven't had a gun in my hand for so long 
 that I guess I've forgot all I ever knew."
 
 A TEIP TO MILBY. 
 
 "I guess you haven't. S'pose you come 
 out and try," said Jeduthun. "Aunt 
 Clarke won't want you, will she ?" 
 
 " Oh no. She said I might do what I 
 liked." 
 
 " Good ! Come, let's go down stream 
 a-ways, and have a good time shooting. 
 I've got a nice little rifle just the thing 
 for a boy." 
 
 Geordie agreed, and had a fine time 
 shooting at a mark, and discovering that 
 he had not forgotten all his old skill. 
 
 " I guess you ain't quite blind yet, see- 
 ing you've hit three times out of four," 
 said Jeduthun, who had not been with- 
 out a motive in proposing this particular 
 amusement. " Try a longer range now." 
 
 The longer range was equally success- 
 ful, and Geordie owned that his eyes were 
 pretty good yet. 
 
 " Well, there ! I guess we had better be 
 going home," said Jeduthun, after a 
 while. "You carry the guns down to 
 my house, will you ? I've got an errand
 
 132 THE TAME TURTLE. 
 
 to do; and if you like, I'll ask Mrs. 
 Clarke to let you stop to supper, and 
 afterward we'll clean up the firearms." 
 
 Jeduthun's errand was to Mrs. Clarke 
 herself, and he had sent Geordie home 
 with the guns to get him out of the way 
 while he unfolded his proposition ; for as 
 he told Kissy his wife, " there never was 
 no knowing how she'd take things, and 
 it wasn't best to raise the boy's expecta- 
 tions." Jeduthun was going on a short 
 journey next day to take home a light 
 carriage and a pair of ponies belonging 
 to a gentleman in Milby, and he wished 
 to take Geordie with him. 
 
 " Why under the sun don't you send 
 them on the cars, instead of taking them 
 yourself?" asked Mrs. Clarke. 
 
 " Well, that's one of old Mr. Ferrand's 
 notions. He thinks it's very dangerous 
 to transport horses on the cars. It ain't 
 anything but a notion, but the ponies is 
 his'n, and he's got a right to say what's 
 to be done about them."
 
 A TRIP TO MILBY. 133 
 
 " It's taking a good deal of your time," 
 observed Mrs. Clarke. 
 
 "Well, yes two days; but, you see, 
 boss has had the use of the ponies more 
 or less for a year, and he can afford to 
 spare me a couple of days; and I ain't 
 afraid the old gentleman will let me lose 
 anything, nor Miss Rhoda either. The 
 ponies are really hers, and she's an old 
 friend of mine. The question is, Will 
 you let Geordie go with me? I shall be 
 the better of his company, and I don't 
 believe he'll be the worse of the ride. I 
 I shall be two days on the road, for I've 
 got some business to do for boss at Vic- 
 tor ; and besides, I don't want to tire the 
 ponies." 
 
 "Well, I suppose I may as well let 
 Geordie go," said Mrs. Clarke. " It will 
 be an amusement to him, and take off 
 his attention a little. Ever since Lo- 
 renda Hitchcock talked about his being 
 blind, he has seemed out of spirits. I 
 can see that he thinks about his eyes all 
 12
 
 134 THE TAME TURTLE. 
 
 the time, though he never complains. I 
 wish you could take him to a real good 
 eye doctor, and have his eyes examined, 
 Jeduthun." 
 
 "Well, so I can," said Jeduthun. 
 "There's Doctor R. I don't suppose 
 anybody knows more about eyes than he 
 does. He operated on Kissy's old Aunt 
 Phebe when she was past eighty years, 
 and the old woman can see to pick up 
 a needle on the floor. I'll take Geordie 
 to him if you like, but I suppose it will 
 cost something." 
 
 Mrs. Clarke went to her desk and 
 took out a bill. 
 
 " There's five dollars," said she. "That 
 ought to be enough. If there's any to 
 spare, give it to George for spending- 
 money." 
 
 " All right," said Jeduthun. " Haven't 
 you got any errands yourself?" 
 
 " Oh yes, plenty of errands if I had 
 any money," answered Mrs. Clarke, smil- 
 ing. " But don't you tell Geordie. I
 
 A TRIP TO MILBY. 135 
 
 want to tell him myself; and mind you 
 send him home early. The nights are 
 getting damp, and I'm always afraid of 
 his walking into the water. He's such 
 an absent-minded young one !" 
 
 " All right," said Jeduthun, again, 
 and departed chuckling to himself over 
 the success of his plan. 
 
 " Mrs. Clarke used to act like a cow 
 with a strange calf," he remarked, in re- 
 counting the interview to Keziah, " but 
 since Geordie was sick, she's getting to 
 be like a hen with one chicken. I'm 
 'most afraid she'll spoil him." 
 
 " Don't you be scared," replied Keziah. 
 " The boy ain't half as likely to be spiled 
 as he was before. Vinegar will spile 
 milk a sight quicker than sugar will. 
 Geordie is doing her good, and she won't 
 do him no harm, not as things are now. 
 Well, as long as you're a-going, I guess 
 I'll bake a little chicken pie and some 
 biscuit, so's you can have a good lunch. 
 So go 'long and kill the chickens, old
 
 136 THE TAME TURTLE. 
 
 man, and don't you trouble yourself 
 about Geordie, nor Mis' Clarke neither." 
 
 Mrs. Clarke told Geordie the news 
 when he returned, and was gratified to 
 see him show as much joy as she ex- 
 pected. 
 
 " You won't mind about going to the 
 doctor's, will you ?" 
 
 "No," said Geordie. "I suppose he 
 will tell me just how it is, and I would 
 rather know than to be fancying things 
 all the time." 
 
 "Then you do think there is some 
 fancy in it ?" asked Mrs. Clarke, smiling. 
 
 " Yes, I think so, because I can see to 
 shoot about as well as ever; but my 
 eyes do feel bad if I try to study a bit." 
 
 " 1 guess they'll get over it. Well, 
 now we will have our Bible reading and 
 go to bed, for Jeduthun means to take 
 an early start, he tells me." 
 
 The custom of Bible reading had be- 
 gun while Geordie was sick, and had 
 been continued ever since. Geordie used
 
 A TRIP TO MILBY. 137 
 
 to wish his aunt would have prayers, as 
 his father used to do, but he did not 
 venture to propose it. 
 
 "Well, there! go to bed," said Mrs. 
 Clarke, when the reading was concluded. 
 " I'm glad you are going to have a good 
 time, but I shall miss you. It will seem 
 queer to have you away." 
 
 "Don't you feel well, aunt?" asked 
 Geordie, wno had not become s"o far ac- 
 customed to his aunt's change of feeling 
 as not to be a little surprised at every 
 expression of affection. " Perhaps I had 
 better not go, after all." 
 
 "Bless the boy!" said Mrs. Clarke, 
 laughing. " Does he think I can't get 
 along without him one day, when I never 
 saw him till six months ago? You've 
 got a good conceit of yourself, child. 
 There ! go along to bed, and don't bother 
 me." 
 
 Geordie laughed too ; and kissing his 
 aunt again, he went up to bed in very 
 good spirits. He had been pleased and 
 12*
 
 138 THE TAME TURTLE. 
 
 diverted by his success in shooting, he 
 enjoyed the prospect of his little journey, 
 and, above all, he was happy in his aunt's 
 kindness and affection, for Geordie was 
 a warm-hearted little fellow, and wanted 
 to please everybody. 
 
 " I won't worry any more about being 
 blind," he said to himself, after he had 
 said his prayers ; "I mean to try not to 
 think about it again, nor the knife either. 
 I am sure it will all be brought right 
 somehow. As long as Aunt Clarke is so 
 good, and believes that I told the truth, 
 I needn't mind so much about Miss 
 Bartlett." 
 
 The next morning, before seven o'clock, 
 Jeduthun and Geordie were on their 
 way to Milby in Mr. Ferrand's light car- 
 riage, behind the pretty black ponies. 
 Keziah had carried out her intentions 
 with respect to the chicken pie, and Mrs. 
 Clarke had also provided a lunch, so they 
 were not likely to starve. 
 
 The morning was beautiful, the ponies
 
 A TKIP TO MILBY. 139 
 
 in the best of spirits, and the roads in per- 
 fect o adition, neither dusty nor muddy. 
 Jeduthun was a most amusing companion, 
 and as they left the miles behind them 
 Geordie seemed to leave his troubles be- 
 hind him as well. He and Jeduthun 
 told each other stories, sung songs, and 
 talked a deal of nonsense which did 
 neither of them any harm. 
 
 They stopped over-night at a pretty 
 country village, where Jeduthun had 
 some business ; and taking an early start 
 next morning, they arrived at Milby 
 before noon. 
 
 " Now we will drive straight to the old 
 gentleman's," said Jeduthun; "and if 
 she is only at home, I'll show you one of 
 the nicest young ladies you ever saw." 
 
 " I wish I could see my young lady," 
 said Geordie, with a sigh. 
 
 " Maybe we will if we keep a bright look 
 out," answered Jeduthun. "I' shouldn't 
 be surprised at all. This is Mr. Fer- 
 rand's place. Ain't it pretty ?"
 
 140 THE TAME TURTLE. 
 
 " Beautiful !" said Geordie, with enthu- 
 siasm. " I think it is the prettiest place 
 I ever saw, and so neat. The grass looks 
 as if it had been combed and brushed 
 every day." 
 
 " That's Mr. Ferrand's way. He's got 
 his notions, but he's a very nice old 
 gentleman, after all ; so you mustn't mind 
 if he seems a little stiff and pompous. 
 Just jump out and open the gate, will 
 
 you?" 
 
 Jeduthun drove round to the back 
 door ; and tying the ponies, he knocked, 
 and asked for Mr. Ferrand who soon 
 made his appearance, and greeted Jedu- 
 thun with much politeness and a good 
 deal of condescension. 
 
 " And who's this young lad ?" asked 
 Mr. Ferrand, turning to Geordie after a 
 few minutes' conversation with Jeduthun. 
 
 "This is George McGregor, a neigh- 
 bour of mine," answered Jeduthun. " He's 
 been sick, and his aunt wants him to see 
 an eye doctor; and so I brought him
 
 A TRIP TO MILBY. 141 
 
 along, thinking the ride would do him 
 good." 
 
 " Quite right, quite right," said Mr. 
 Ferrand. " You will find Doctor R. the 
 best person to consult in the matter. But 
 here comes my daughter to see her pets. 
 Rhoda, here are your ponies, in fine 
 condition, brought by an old friend of 
 yours." 
 
 Before the young woman could glance at 
 the horses or shake hands with Jeduthun, 
 Geordie sprung forward and seized her 
 hand. 
 
 "Oh, it's my young lady, it's my 
 young lady !" he exclaimed, hardly know- 
 ing what he said. " Oh, won't you please 
 tell them that I didn't steal the knife, 
 and that I did tell the truth about it ?" 
 
 "What does this mean?" said Mr. 
 Ferrand, in some displeasure. "My 
 daughter, do you know this boy ?" 
 
 "I think I do," said Miss Thurston, 
 smiling. "You are George McGregor, 
 to whom I gave a knife on the cars.
 
 142 THE TAME TUKTLE. 
 
 But what is this about stealing ? I hope 
 no one accused you of stealing the 
 knife?" 
 
 "Yes, ma'am," answered Geordie. 
 " Ira Gardner said it was his and I 
 stole it out of his desk, and I said you 
 gave it to me, and Miss Bartlett said I 
 was telling lies, and " 
 
 But here Geordie's voice failed him. 
 He could not finish the story of his dis- 
 grace. 
 
 "The long and short of it was that 
 the schoolma'am wouldn't believe it," 
 said Jeduthun ; " so she whipped the 
 child to make him own up." 
 
 " A most improper and unjust proceed- 
 ing," said Mr. Ferrand ; " but continue 
 if you please, Jeduthun. I am much 
 interested." 
 
 "So when Geordie couldn't stand it 
 any longer, he owned up, and then he 
 felt so bad because he hadn't stuck to 
 the truth that it fairly made him sick 
 that and jumping into the pond to save
 
 A TEIP TO MILBY. 143 
 
 his aunt's old cat. We thought he 
 wouldn't live for a while." 
 
 "Poor child!" said Mr. Ferrand and 
 Rhoda together, and Mr. Ferrand added : 
 " I think, daughter, you must set this 
 matter right as soon as possible. Perhaps 
 you had better hasten your proposed visit 
 to Mrs. Antis." 
 
 " I believe I will," answered Miss 
 Thurston. "Poor Geordie ! I little 
 thought what distress you were under- 
 going on my account. It never occurred 
 to me that the knife would bring you 
 into any trouble. I wish I had given 
 you my address. And so you jumped 
 into the water after the cat ?" 
 
 " Right in above the plaster - mill 
 flume," said Jeduthun. "If I hadn't 
 seen it, he and old Muiigo would have 
 gone under together." 
 
 " That was not very wise, to risk your 
 life for that of a cat," observed Mr. 
 Ferrand. 
 
 " I never thought anything about
 
 144 THE TAME TUKTLE. 
 
 that," said Geordie, simply. " I heard 
 him mew and saw how pitiful he looked ; 
 and besides, Aunt Clarke thinks every- 
 thing of him." 
 
 " I think you are a bit of a hero, 
 Geordie," said Miss Thurston, smiling. 
 "But you and Jeduthun must come in 
 and have some dinner, and we will con- 
 sider what is to be done for the clearing 
 up of your character." 
 
 After they had had their dinner, Geor- 
 die had to amuse himself with looking 
 over the garden and greenhouse, while 
 Jeduthun was in the library with Mr. 
 Ferrand and his daughter. Presently, 
 however, the servant came to call him, 
 saying that Mr. Ferrand wanted to see 
 him. Never had Geordie seen so hand- 
 some a room, or so many books together. 
 His attention was almost diverted from 
 what Miss Thurston was saying, as he 
 thought how happy she must be to live 
 in the house with so many books. 
 
 "Now, Geordie, listen to me," said
 
 A TRIP TO MILBY. 145 
 
 Miss Thurston. " I think it better to at- 
 tend to this matter myself, instead of 
 writing, as I at first intended. But I 
 cannot come down to Boonville before 
 next week. Can you be content to wait 
 till that time to have your innocence 
 established, and say nothing about the 
 matter to any one but your aunt ?" 
 
 "Oh yes, ma'am," answered Geordie, 
 eagerly. " I don't mind waiting a bit." 
 
 " Very good. Now I want to ask you 
 a few questions." 
 
 Miss Thurston then questioned Geordie 
 about his father's name and the date and 
 circumstances of his death, writing down 
 his answers in her note-book. 
 
 " Now, then, I want to give you some- 
 thing to make up for the loss of your 
 keepsake," said she, after she had fin- 
 ished. "What shall it be? Another 
 knife?" 
 
 " His aunt gave him a nice knife," 
 said Jeduthun, as Geordie hesitated, 
 hardly knowing what he ought to say. 
 
 13 K
 
 146 THE TAME TUETLE. 
 
 " I guess Geordie would like a book bet- 
 ter than anything else. He's a great 
 hand to read." 
 
 " A book it shall be, then," said Miss 
 Thurston ; and turning to one of the 
 cases, she brought out a beautiful copy 
 of " Robinson Crusoe." 
 
 " There ! I bought that for another 
 little boy, but I can easily replace it." 
 
 "My dear daughter," said Mr. Fer- 
 rand, in rather a remonstrating tone 
 and going to the same case, he produced 
 a copy of the " Victoria Eftstory of 
 England," nicely bound and illustrated. 
 
 "There, my boy!" said he; "that 
 will give you a great deal of useful 
 and reliable information." 
 
 " Oh, thank you, sir," said Geordie, 
 gratefully. " I always did love to read 
 history, especially English history." 
 
 " Very good, very well," said Mr. Fer- 
 raud ; " I hope you will retain that taste. 
 Now, if you are going to see the doctor, 
 it is time you were on your way."
 
 A TRIP TO MILBY. 147 
 
 "And remember, you are not to say 
 anything at home about this visit," said 
 Miss Thurston. " Let me see now if you 
 can keep a secret." 
 
 " I guess I can," said Geordie, rather 
 proudly. 
 
 " Even if my visit should be put off a 
 week or two ?" 
 
 " I wouldn't mind if it was put off a 
 year, now I know you are coming," 
 answered Geordie, speaking more freely ; 
 " but it has been pretty hard, I can tell 
 you. Sometimes I have almost thought 
 1 did take the knife, after all." 
 
 "Such a state of mind has not been 
 uncommon among persons similarly situ- 
 ated," said Mr. Ferrand. " It has been 
 not unusual for people to become so con- 
 fused as not only to confess crimes they 
 never committed, but actually to believe 
 themselves guilty." 
 
 " I suppose that was the way with the 
 witches in old times, wasn't it?" asked 
 Geordie, much interested.
 
 148 THE TAME TURTLE. 
 
 " Very often, I dare say. Where did 
 you learn about them?" 
 
 " I read it in a great book father had," 
 replied Geordie. " You see I didn't have 
 a great many children's books, and so I 
 had to read big books or none at all." 
 
 "And did you understand the big 
 books ?" asked Mr. Ferraud. 
 
 "No, sir, not all some of them I 
 could not understand at all ; but I used 
 to read the histories and biographies, 
 and the notes in the big Bible." 
 
 " And was your father fond of books ?" 
 
 " Yes, sir, very ; but he couldn't afford 
 to have many, because we needed so many 
 other things. Once a gentleman sent 
 him a beautiful set of books, and father 
 was so pleased, because he said if the 
 gentleman had sent the money he would 
 have felt obliged to lay it out on other 
 things, but now he could enjoy them 
 without thinking all the time of his old 
 overcoat or the place in the church roof 
 which needed mending."
 
 A TRIP TO MILBY. 149 
 
 Mr. Ferrand and his daughter both 
 smiled. 
 
 " Your father must have been a very 
 good man, I think," said Miss Thurston. 
 " I hope you will follow in his steps. 
 Now, good-bye, till I see you again." 
 
 " Well, so you did find your young 
 lady, after all," said Juduthun as they 
 walked down the street. " I mistrusted 
 all the time it was Miss Hhoda, after you 
 told me how she looked. That was one 
 reason I wanted to fetch you along to- 
 day." 
 
 " I knew her the very first minute," 
 said Geordie. " How pretty she is, and 
 what a nice old gentleman her father 
 seems to be ! But why is she called Miss 
 Thurston when her father's name is 
 Ferrand?" 
 
 " Oh, she ain't his own daughter ; she's 
 an adopted child," said Jeduthun. " She 
 used to live in Boonville, but her folks 
 there turned her off as soon as they got 
 one of the^r own. Then she went to
 
 150 THE TAME TURTLE. 
 
 Mr. Ferrand's to live, and his daughter, 
 who died afterward, took a great fancy to 
 her. So the family sent her to school, 
 and finally Mr. Ferrand adopted her, 
 and she has been the greatest comfort to 
 him, especially since his wife died. He's 
 done well by her took her to Europe 
 and gave her a first-rate education ; but 
 he gets it all back, for a more dutiful 
 child couldn't be than she is to the old 
 man. He is a real fine old gentleman 
 too, for all he has his notions. Well, 
 here we are at the doctor's. You won't 
 be scared, now, will you ?" 
 
 " No," answered Geordie, but his heart 
 beat fast when he was ushered into the 
 doctor's presence. 
 
 Dr. R. was very kind. He saw that 
 Geordie was agitated, and to give him 
 time to recover talked to Jeduthun, ask- 
 ing what he knew about the case. Then 
 he questioned Geordie, who quickly re- 
 gained his composure and answered the 
 doctor's questions very sensibly. He
 
 A TRIP TO MILBY. 151 
 
 examined his eyes ; and then, taking him 
 into a dark room and lighting a gas-jet 
 behind him, he looked into the boy's 
 eyes with an instrument which made 
 Geordie feel as if a lamp were lighted 
 inside his head. 
 
 "Well, my boy, I can tell you for 
 your comfort that there is nothing the 
 matter with your eyes," said Doctor R., 
 at last. " They are only weak from 
 illness ; and when you get back your 
 strength, they will be as well as ever 
 they were. Oh, come, don't cry! Why, 
 you shouldn't cry at hearing good news, 
 surely." 
 
 " He feels so kind of relieved, don't 
 you see ?" remarked Jeduthun. " He'd 
 quite made up his mind that he was 
 going to be stone-blind and have to 
 make baskets for a living." 
 
 " I'll agree to eat all the baskets he 
 makes after he is blind, if nothing more 
 ails his eyes than is the matter with 
 them now," said Dr. ]$, " Why, I dare
 
 152 THE TAME TURTLE. 
 
 say your arms are not as strong as they 
 were before you were sick ?" 
 
 " No, sir, but then my eyes did feel so 
 bad, and it seemed so dreadful to think 
 of being blind," said Geordie, wiping his 
 eyes and feeling rather ashamed. " I 
 used to think of it every time I put the 
 candle out at night, and once I fell down 
 stairs trying to see whether I could walk 
 with my eyes shut. Aunt Clarke said 
 I was a goose." 
 
 "Aunt Clarke was right. Time enough 
 to learn to walk in the dark when you 
 have to. Don't borrow trouble about 
 your eyes. Be careful about using 
 them till they get strong, and they will 
 do well enough." 
 
 " Can't I do any reading at all ?" asked 
 Geordie. 
 
 "Oh yes, only do not tire yourself. 
 When you find your eyes growing dim 
 or your head beginning to ache, put 
 down your book directly and run out to 
 play. Keep out of doors all you can as
 
 A TRIP TO MILBY. 153 
 
 long as the warm weather lasts, and 
 you'll be all right." 
 
 " Don't it seem too good to be true ?" 
 said Geordie as they walked away from 
 the doctor's office. 
 
 " Well, no, I don't know that it does," 
 answered Jeduthun. "Why shouldn't 
 good things be true as well as bad ones ? 
 But I'm mighty glad you went to see 
 him, for now you won't be fretting and 
 walking down stairs head first to see 
 what you will do when you are blind." 
 
 " When did Miss Thurston say she 
 was coming?" asked Mrs. Clarke, when 
 she heard the story. 
 
 " Next week, some time." 
 
 " Very well. We will keep all quiet 
 till then." 
 
 " Shall I go to school ?" 
 
 " Just as you like. You might go 
 half a day at least, but do just as you 
 please about it. I think perhaps it will 
 be less dull than staying at home all the 
 time."
 
 154 THE TAME TURTLE. 
 
 " It isn't dull a bit staying at home," 
 said Geordie ; " but I don't want to for - 
 get all my arithmetic, so perhaps I had 
 better go in the mornings. I wonder 
 what Miss Bartlett will say when she 
 finds out ?" 
 
 " Mind you don't tell her." 
 
 " She told me never to mention the 
 subject to her again," said George ; " so I 
 can't tell her if I wanted to."
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 THE EXPLANATION. 
 
 EOKDIE did not receive a very 
 warm welcome from Miss Bart- 
 lett when he returned to school. 
 In fact, she made it very appar- 
 ent that she would have been better 
 pleased had he stayed away. Miss Bart- 
 lett was one of those people and they 
 are not by any means uncommon who, 
 professing a great deal of reason and 
 liberality, are governed almost wholly by 
 their prejudices, and never forgive any 
 one who takes the liberty of differing 
 from them. She had made the school 
 as uncomfortable as possible for David 
 Brown and Tom Parsons, because they 
 believed that Geordie was innocent, and 
 she bestowed an extra amount of petting 
 
 155
 
 156 THE TAME TURTLE. 
 
 and praise on Ira Gardner a proceed- 
 ing "which did not tend to make him any 
 more comfortable in his own mind or 
 improve his position with his playmates. 
 
 Miss Bartlett listened while Geordie 
 somewhat timidly explained his aunt's 
 wishes, and replied, coldly, 
 
 " I hardly think it worth while for 
 you to attend only half a day, and you 
 have not behaved so well that I should 
 make any exception in your favour." 
 
 "Aunt Clarke spoke to Mr. Antis 
 about it, and he said I might," said 
 Geordie. Mr. Antis was chairman of 
 the school committee. 
 
 " Very well," said Miss Bartlett, more 
 coldly than before. " You can try it, 
 and I hope you will try to be a better 
 boy at the same time." 
 
 Geordie did not make any answer, but 
 in his own mind he wondered what 
 would be the use of his trying to be a 
 better boy if what Miss Bartlett said had 
 been true. However, he did his best
 
 THE EXPLANATION. 157 
 
 with his arithmetic and geography, and 
 offended Miss Bartlett still more by go- 
 ing up three places in the spelling-class. 
 When recess came, he rather dreaded to 
 go out, but he soon forgot his fears in 
 the cordial welcome he received from 
 his schoolmates, who made him quite a 
 hero. True, two or three of them still 
 stood aloof and persisted in believing 
 that he had taken the knife, but most 
 of them were loud in asserting their be- 
 lief in his innocence, and equally loud 
 in condemning Ira Gardner. 
 
 "Oh, well, I suppose he really did 
 think so," said Geordie, who, happy as 
 he was, could afford to be charitable to 
 Ira. 
 
 " Does he think so now ?" asked Tom 
 Parsons, looking steadily at Ira, who 
 coloured and seemed very uncomfortable. 
 
 " Suppose I do I ain't the only one ; 
 and anyhow, it is no business of yours, 
 Tom Parsons;" and Ira walked off to 
 the other end of the playground. 
 
 14
 
 158 THE TAME TUETLE. 
 
 Tom looked after him with a mingled 
 look of wonder and contempt. 
 
 " He knows all about it," said Tom. 
 " I shouldn't wonder if he had both 
 knives in his pocket this very minute." 
 
 Tom was right. Ira had the knives 
 in his pocket. He had brought Geor- 
 die's knife to school, really intending to 
 tell the truth ; but once on the spot, and 
 seeing Miss Bartlett's evident ill-humour, 
 his courage failed him. 
 
 " She'd be sure to whip me," he said 
 to himself; "and Geordie has got a new 
 knife, and a much nicer one, so what 
 does it signify? I won't tell any lies 
 about it, whatever happens." 
 
 But unluckily, when one once begins 
 to tell lies, there is no calculating how 
 many will be required. 
 
 After school was out, Miss Bartlett 
 called Ira up to her desk. 
 
 " I suppose, Ira, you have never found 
 your knife ?" said she. 
 
 " No, ma'am," answered Ira, promptly.
 
 dame Curtlf. 
 
 " I suppose, Ira, yon have never found your knife' 
 
 p. 158.
 
 THE EXPLANATION. 159 
 
 "Are you quite sure you left it in 
 school?" 
 
 " Oh yes, ma'am." 
 
 "And you are certain that the knife 
 Geordie had was yours ?" 
 
 " Yes, ma'am ; at least it was exactly 
 like it." 
 
 " I presume you are right," said Miss 
 Bartlett. " I am glad there is one boy 
 in the school that I can trust. I felt 
 sure you were such a one from the first, 
 and equally certain that George McGregor 
 was not. I am rarely if ever mistaken 
 in my judgment of character. How did 
 the children treat George in recess ?" 
 
 "Oh, they think he is all right," 
 answered Ira, with an injured expression. 
 " They all think he didn't take the knife 
 at all, and Tom Parsons said he believed 
 I had got both knives in my pocket." 
 
 "That was very wrong," said Miss 
 Bartlett. " I shall talk to Tom." 
 
 "If you please, Miss Bartlett, I'd a 
 good deal rather you didn't," said Ira,
 
 160 THE TAME TURTLE. 
 
 alarmed, and feeling that Miss Bartlett's 
 championship was not likely to do him 
 any good. "Tom might think I had 
 been telling tales; and I don't want to 
 get him or any one into trouble," added 
 Ira, desperately, feeling that he must 
 make out his case at any cost. " I never 
 would have said anything about the knife 
 if I had known it would make so much 
 fuss." 
 
 " I suppose you thought George would 
 give it up as soon as you claimed it ?" 
 
 " Yes, ma'am, or else I wouldn't have 
 said a word. I did offer to give it to 
 him afterward, but he wouldn't even 
 speak to me." 
 
 " He is a very naughty boy, and will 
 come to no good," said Miss Bartlett, 
 severely, " and you are a very good boy, 
 and one that I can trust." 
 
 " Then you won't speak to Tom ?" Ira 
 ventured to say. 
 
 " No, not if you don't wish it." 
 
 And Ira went away, feeling some few
 
 THE EXPLANATION. 161 
 
 shades meaner than before, but on the 
 whole pretty well satisfied with his morn- 
 ing's work. Miss Bartlett's confidence in 
 him ought to have made him heartily 
 ashamed of his deception, and with 
 Geordie it would have had such an effect. 
 But I am sorry to say that the only effect 
 it had on Ira was to produce a contempt 
 for his teacher's " softness," as he called it. 
 
 " She thinks she's so sharp," he said to 
 himself, " and she can't see a hole through 
 a ladder, as father says. I'm glad, on 
 the whole, that I didn't give Geordie 
 back the knife this morning. It would 
 only have made no end of a fuss." 
 
 Ira had not been a very good boy for 
 some time, but the events of the last 
 month had sent him a long way down 
 hill. 
 
 About the middle of the next week 
 Jeduthun drove up to Mrs. Clarke's door 
 in a light carriage and called Geordie 
 out. 
 
 " I'm going over to the Springs to meet 
 
 14* L
 
 162 THE TAME TUETLE. 
 
 Miss Khoda," said he : " Mrs. Antis had a 
 letter this morning. You go to school 
 to-morrow just as usual, and see what 
 you'll see." 
 
 "I hope they won't do anything to 
 Miss Bartlett," said Geordie, struck with 
 a sudden thought. 
 
 "You needn't trouble yourself about 
 that," answered Jeduthun. " Mr. Antis is 
 one of the school committee, you know, 
 and I expect they'll manage the matter 
 their own way. But why don't you 
 want anything done to Miss Bartlett? 
 She hasn't used you very good." 
 
 "No, I don't think she has," said 
 Geordie, slowly; "but still, I wouldn't 
 want her to be troubled. I suppose she 
 thinks she did right ; and anyhow, Jedu- 
 thun, it isn't right to want to pay people 
 off for hurting you, is it ?" 
 
 " Well, no, I don't think it is, Geordie. 
 It ain't according to Scripture ; and be- 
 sides, I doubt if revenge makes one feel 
 any better in the long run. I guess you
 
 THE EXPLANATION. 163 
 
 haven't got much Indian about you, after 
 all your bringing up." 
 
 "There are just as good Indians as 
 there are white folks," said Geordie, 
 firing up, as usual, in defence of his 
 Indian friends. "Of course you can't 
 expect them to act according to the Bible 
 when they don't know anything about it, 
 but father said he never saw more con- 
 sistent Christians anywhere than those in 
 our church at Kettle Prairie." 
 
 "I dare say not. Well, I must go. 
 Don't you want to ride over ?" 
 
 " I guess not," answered Geordie, look- 
 ing rather wistfully at the wagon. " Aunt 
 don't like to have me out in the evening, 
 for fear of my getting cold and being 
 sick again ; so I guess I won't ask her." 
 
 "Well, good-night," said Jeduthun. 
 " Mind you don't say a word. It does 
 beat all," he said to himself as he drove 
 away. " Three months ago Mis' Clarke 
 thought nothing of sending him out in 
 any kind of a storm, because she said he
 
 164 THE TAME TURTLE. 
 
 ought to be hardened, and now she treats 
 him as if he was made of wax or sugar. 
 She's one of the folks that have always 
 got to be at one end or the other never 
 can stay in the middle." 
 
 The next morning, Geordie timed his 
 going to school so as to arrive just as the 
 last bell rung. His heart was beating 
 'fast, and he was in a tremor of expecta- 
 tion of he knew not what. School was 
 opened as usual, and the first reading- 
 class was in progress, when there was a 
 knock at the door. Thomas Parsons 
 opened it, and ushered in Mr. Antis, Mr. 
 Badger, and Miss Thurston. 
 
 " Good-morning, Miss Bartlett," said 
 Mr. Antis, politely. " Don't let us inter- 
 rupt your class." He introduced Miss 
 Thurston, and then requested the children 
 to go on with their reading. 
 
 Miss Bartlett was somewhat fluttered 
 and a good deal flattered. She had never 
 seen Miss Thurston, but she had heard 
 of hftr as a young lady who had been
 
 THE EXPLANATION. 165 
 
 educated abroad, who was very rich and 
 charitable, and whose father was known 
 to take a great interest in education. 
 What if Mr. Ferrand had heard of her 
 skill in object- teaching and school-gym- 
 nastics, and had sent his daughter to 
 observe her method with a view to pro- 
 mote her -to a higher situation? She 
 hastily ran over in her own mind a pro- 
 gramme of exercises which should show 
 off her method and her pupils to the best 
 advantage before she proceeded with the 
 reading. 
 
 Miss Thurston sat where she could see 
 the whole school, and as the class was 
 dismissed she nodded to one and another 
 whom she knew, especially to Geordie. 
 As Miss Bartlett noticed the flash of 
 intelligence and joy which Geordie's eyes 
 sent back to the distinguished visitor, a 
 thought came across her mind which sent 
 the colour to her face and stiffened her 
 manners at once from the gracious to the 
 severe. Could this be George's young
 
 166 THE TAME TUETLE. 
 
 lady ? Had he told the truth, after all ? 
 She was not long left in doubt. 
 
 " Miss Thurston would like to say a 
 few words to the school, Miss Bartlett," 
 said Mr. Antis, politely. " I suppose 
 there is no objection to her doing so ?" 
 
 " I suppose not," answered Miss Bart- 
 lett, not very graciously, however. 
 
 " I shall not detain you long," said 
 Miss Thurston, rising. " I only want to 
 set right a mistake which I hear has 
 caused a good deal of trouble. I have 
 been told that my little friend, George 
 McGregor, has been accused of stealing 
 a knife. " 
 
 There was a little silence. The chil- 
 dren looked at each other and then at 
 Ira Gardner, who began already to wish 
 himself a hundred miles off. 
 
 " I should like to hear the story from, 
 the beginning," said Miss Thurston. 
 " Miss Bartlett, have you any objection 
 to my asking a few questions ?" 
 
 "No objection whatever," answered
 
 THE EXPLANATION. 167 
 
 Miss Bartlett, shortly and somewhat 
 sharply. 
 
 Miss Thurston looked round the room, 
 and then called upon Thomas Parsons, 
 who was the oldest boy in the school : 
 
 " Thomas, will you tell us what you 
 know of this matter ?" 
 
 Tom collected his thoughts, and began : 
 
 " Geordie showed me the knife Sun- 
 day, and said a lady on the cars gave 
 it to him. Several of the boys saw it, 
 and we never mistrusted but that he was 
 telling the truth." 
 
 " Then George usually does tell the 
 truth, does he ?" asked Mr. Antis. 
 
 " Yes, sir. I think he is as honest as 
 any boy I ever knew, and I think all 
 the boys will say the same." 
 
 There was a murmur of assent all 
 round the room. 
 
 " Very good," said Mr. Antis. " Go 
 on, Tom." 
 
 " Then, when we came to school Mon- 
 day morning, Ira Gardner said Geordie
 
 168 THE TAME TURTLE. 
 
 had got his knife, and that he had taken 
 it out of his desk, where Ira had left it. 
 Geordie denied it, and showed him the 
 knife, but Ira said it was his, and it did 
 look very much like Ira's. Then Ira 
 told Geordie he stole it, and Geordie got 
 mad a little, and told Ira he was real 
 mean, and Miss Bartlett heard him and 
 asked what was the matter. Then Ira 
 told her, and after school began she 
 called the boys up, and Geordie stuck to 
 his own story. Then Miss Bartlett said 
 he was telling lies and she would make 
 him confess, and she whipped him three 
 times, and the last time he did confess, 
 and gave Ira the knife. Then Geordie 
 was very sick, and didn't come to school 
 for a good while; and when he came 
 back, he told us again that he didn't 
 take the knife, and he was sorry he said 
 he did, but Miss Bartlett whipped him 
 so he couldn't stand it. That's all." 
 
 There was a minute's silence. Then 
 Mr. Antis said,
 
 THE EXPLANATION. 169 
 
 " Ira, have you the knife now ? Let 
 me see it." 
 
 Ira pulled out the knife and gave it 
 to Mr. Antis, who handed it to Miss 
 Thurston. 
 
 " I do hope Mr. Badger won't remem- 
 ber, now," thought Ira. "If he don't, 
 I can carry it off yet, and he's so forget- 
 ful I dare say he won't." 
 
 " This knife is the one I gave George 
 McGregor on the cars," said Miss Thurs- 
 ton, after she had examined it ; "I re- 
 member the peculiar colour of the buck- 
 horn handle. I never saw one of such 
 a light colour. I fell in with George on 
 the cars at Caneota, and he sat beside 
 me all the way. We were detained an 
 hour by a slight accident, and had a 
 very interesting conversation. I had 
 found this knife in the street at Milby ; 
 and as I could discover no owner for it, 
 I concluded to give it to George as a 
 keepsake. I never imagined that it could 
 bring him into any trouble. I suppose,
 
 170 THE TAME TURTLE. 
 
 Ira, you really thought the knife was 
 yours ?" 
 
 "Yes, ma'am," answered Ira, deter- 
 mined to put a good face on the matter. 
 "I had lost mine out of my desk at 
 school, and some of the girls saw Geordie 
 go to my desk, and I thought he had got 
 it. I was sorry afterward that I said 
 anything, and I offered to give Geordie 
 back the knife, but he wouldn't have it." 
 
 "And have you never found your 
 knife?" 
 
 " No, ma'am." 
 
 "Well, but look here, Ira," said Mr. 
 Badger, who had hithertp been a silent 
 spectator of the scene, " what knife was 
 that which your brother Sam sent you from 
 the Springs by me some three weeks ago ? 
 Sam told me that it was yours that you 
 lent it to him, and he carried it off by 
 mistake. What knife was that ?" 
 
 " That was another, an old one," an- 
 swered Ira. 
 
 " Well, but it wasn't an old one at all."
 
 THE EXPLANATION. 171 
 
 persisted Mr. Badger, in his deliberate 
 way. " It was a very nice new one, and 
 Sam told me himself he got it out of the 
 store for you. I remember that, because 
 I looked to see if they had any more like 
 it. I'm afraid you ain't telling the truth, 
 Ira," 
 
 " Tom Parsons, put your hand in that 
 boy's pocket and see what he has got 
 there," said Mr. Antis, suddenly and 
 sharply. 
 
 As suddenly Tom obeyed ; and before 
 Ira could prevent him, he pulled out 
 the new-looking buckhorn-handled knife, 
 which did bear some resemblance to 
 Geordie's, being made by the same man- 
 ufacturer. 
 
 " Just so," said Mr. Badger, taking the 
 knife and passing it to Mr. Antis. " Miss 
 Bartlett, I brought that knife over to Ira 
 three weeks ago. And all that time, 
 Ira, you have known your mistake, and 
 yet you have gone on letting everybody 
 think that poor little Geordie was a thief
 
 172 THE TAME TURTLE. 
 
 and a liar. Keally, I don't know what 
 you don't deserve." 
 
 "Why, that was the very time that 
 Geordie was so sick," exclaimed Tom. 
 " You mean sneak, you !" 
 
 "Thomas Parsons, be silent or leave 
 the room this instant," said Miss Bartlett. 
 
 " There is little more to be said," re- 
 marked Miss Thurston. " I repeat, George 
 is quite innocent of any wrong-doing in 
 the matter, except that of telling a lie 
 under punishment." 
 
 " I have been sorry ever since," Geordie 
 ventured to say, "but she hurt me so. 
 I tried to tell Miss Bartlett afterward, but 
 she wouldn't hear me." 
 
 "Well, never mind," said Mr. Antis, 
 pitying what he supposed must be Miss 
 Bartlett's distress. " I dare say Miss 
 Bartlett is very glad to find herself 
 mistaken." 
 
 But Miss Bartlett was not glad at all. 
 Geordie's guilt or innocence was a small 
 matter with her, compared with her own
 
 THE EXPLANATION. 173 
 
 dignity, for she was one of those people 
 who consider everything only as it affects 
 themselves. 
 
 " I regret that such a mistake should 
 have occurred," said she, trying to speak 
 calmly, while her voice trembled with 
 anger and mortification ; " but it is in a 
 great degree George's own fault. If he 
 had not treated me with such uniform 
 disrespect, not to say insolence, I should 
 have been less ready to condemn him." 
 
 "I never meant to be disrespectful, 
 Miss Bartlett," said George as Miss Bart- 
 lett paused a moment. " I know I did 
 laugh when you talked about Indians 
 hunting deer on horseback in the woods, 
 but I was very sorry, and I said so." 
 
 " I must say I think this matter might 
 liave been managed with more considera- 
 tion for me," continued Miss Bartlett, 
 not condescending to notice Geordie's 
 words. " I can see no need of bringing 
 it up in this public manner." 
 
 "The boy was publicly condemned 
 
 15 *
 
 174 THE TAME TURTLE. 
 
 and punished," said Mr. Antis, " and it 
 seemed only fair that his vindication 
 should be public also. I do not see that 
 it was any disrespect to you, Miss Bart- 
 lett. I do not think we had better dis- 
 cuss that matter at present," he added, 
 in a lower tone. " I never supposed but 
 that you would be glad to have the 
 child's innocence proved beyond a doubt. 
 I do not approve of whipping children 
 to make them confess. It seems to me 
 neither more nor less than examination 
 by torture; but that might pass for an 
 error in judgment." 
 
 " I do not allow that it was an error," 
 said Miss Bartlett, her temper getting 
 the upper hand ; " I should do the same 
 thing again. I considered George's story 
 as altogether an improbable one. Not 
 being myself in the habit of making 
 miscellaneous acquaintances or giving 
 presents to strangers on the cars, it did 
 not seem to me at all likely that any 
 lady would do such a thing," with a
 
 THE EXPLANATION. 175 
 
 severe emphasis on the word " lady." " I 
 conceived that I was right in using 
 measures to make George confess. But 
 since you do not approve of my manage- 
 ment of the school, I beg leave to resign 
 my position as teacher." 
 
 " Children, you may go out to play 
 a little while," said Mr. Badger "all 
 but Ira Gardner, and he may go and 
 sit in that corner over by the woodbox." 
 
 " I think I will go out to play with 
 the children, Mr. Badger," said Miss 
 Thurston. " I should like to renew my 
 acquaintance with them, and I have a 
 few goodies to distribute, if Miss Bart- 
 lett has no objection." 
 
 " I have nothing to say about the mat- 
 ter," answered Miss Bartlett ; " I am no 
 longer their teacher. 
 
 " Well, but now, look here, Miranda, 
 hadn't you better think this over a lit- 
 tle?" said Mr. Badger. "It won't be 
 very convenient for you to be out of a 
 school this time of year."
 
 176 THE TAME TURTLE. 
 
 " I can attend to my own convenience," 
 said Miss Bartlett, loftily, but thinking 
 at the same time that if the gentlemen 
 coaxed her enough she would consent to 
 stay. " I beg leave to resign my position 
 here from this moment. I can not con- 
 sent to remain where I have been so in- 
 sulted, unless at least an ample apology 
 is made." 
 
 " Well, but look here. It seems to me 
 that you should be ready to apologize 
 yourself, before you require it from other 
 folks. Just think what you made that 
 poor little fellow suffer by your injustice ! 
 Don't you owe him an apology? How 
 would you like to be treated as you 
 treated him?" 
 
 " That is another thing. I am not a 
 child." 
 
 " But don't you think you should do 
 as you would be done by, to children 
 as well as to grown folks?" asked Mr. 
 Badger. 
 
 " I must decline to discuss that matter
 
 THE EXPLANATION. 177 
 
 at present," said Miss Bartlett. " I can 
 never consent to apologize to a child. I 
 prefer to leave the school." 
 
 "Your resignation must come before 
 the whole committee, and I for one shall 
 be decidedly in favour of accepting it," 
 said Mr. Antis, who had at first been dis- 
 posed to favour Miss Bartlett. "You 
 seem to me to show clearly that you are 
 entirely unfitted to manage a school. I 
 must say I am very much surprised at 
 what I have seen." 
 
 Miss Bartlett exploded. 
 
 " I ain't going to wait for no school- 
 meeting," said she, returning to her native 
 tongue, as people are apt to do in times 
 of excitement. " I'll never stay in this 
 school, to be .down-trodden by anybody 
 no, not another minute. You may teach 
 the school for yourself if you choose, for 
 I won't 'tend to it another minute." 
 
 " Well, but look here, Miranda," Mr. 
 Badger began, but Miss Bartlett would 
 not listen. She put on her hat, collected 
 M
 
 178 THE TAME TURTLE. 
 
 her possessions, and left the room, not 
 even casting a glance behind her. 
 
 " Well, if ever I did !" said Mr. Bad- 
 ger. "Who would have thought of her 
 taking it in that way ?" 
 
 "Not I, I am sure," replied Mr. 
 Antis. " I always supposed -she was a 
 very good, sensible girl, though I didn't 
 like all her ways. But her resignation 
 has saved us a good deal of trouble, and 
 I am not sorry for it." 
 
 " My wife will say, ' I told you so,' ' 
 remarked Mr. Badger. " She said this 
 morning, ' Miranda won't care anything 
 about the justice of the thing ; she never 
 can think of anything or anybody but 
 herself;' and I guess she was right. But 
 what shall we do for a teacher ?" 
 
 " You might put in Fanny till we can 
 find some one." 
 
 " Well, I wouldn't exactly like to do 
 that. You see folks might say I quarrelled 
 with Miranda to make room for my 
 daughter. But there's Alice Brown ; she
 
 THE EXPLANATION. 179 
 
 is at home now. Why isn't she just the 
 one?" 
 
 " She is, if she will take it. I should 
 like to have her for good." 
 
 "Well, maybe it can be managed. 
 We'll call a meeting this evening, and 
 I'll try to see Alice this afternoon. Now 
 I suppose we'd better call the children in 
 and give them a little talking to." 
 
 " You must do that," said Mr. Antis. 
 " You know how to talk to children, and 
 I don't." 
 
 " I always talk to children just as I do 
 to grown folks;" said Mr. Badger, who 
 was superintendent of the Sunday-school, 
 and had been so for twenty years. "I 
 never found any better way than that. 
 Just talk in a sensible, serious, straight- 
 forward way, and they're ready enough 
 to listen at least I always find them so. 
 I don't believe in this notion that every- 
 thing has got to be made funny or silly 
 before children will be interested." 
 
 Mr. Badger called the children in ;
 
 180 THE TAME TURTLE. 
 
 and after saying that Miss Bartlett would 
 be away for a while, he made a very 
 plain and forcible address on the wicked- 
 ness of lying and its consequences in this 
 world and the next. He pointed out also 
 the mischief that is done by hasty accu- 
 sations and a too great readiness to believe 
 evil of others. 
 
 "If Ira had only waited a little, he 
 would probably have remembered all 
 about his knife, and saved himself this 
 trouble and disgrace. And there's another 
 thing, boys, and girls too, which I want 
 you to notice," continued Mr. Badger, 
 " and that is that it is a very mean and 
 miserable thing to be a coward. If Ira 
 had been a brave boy, he would have gone 
 to Miss Bartlett and told her the truth 
 directly as soon as he found it out, and he 
 wouldn't have been tempted to heap one 
 lie on the top of another, as he has been 
 doing all this time. It is a dreadful 
 thing to be a liar, children dreadful 
 in this world, and still worse in the
 
 THE EXPLANATION. 181 
 
 next ; and nothing makes more lies than 
 cowardice." 
 
 " But please, Mr. Badger, even if people 
 have been liars, they can be forgiven, 
 can't they?" asked Geordie, quite for- 
 getting his shyness and taking the lecture 
 to himself. " Mr. Maynard said so. He 
 told me, when I felt so bad about the lie 
 I told, that if I was sorry God would for.- 
 give me and wash the sin all away." 
 
 " That's true, my son," answered Mr. 
 Badger "just gospel truth. If the great- 
 est liar on earth repents, he may be for- 
 given ; and what is even more, he may 
 have help not to lie again. I don't think 
 I need say any more about this matter. 
 There won't be any school this afternoon, 
 but you can all come to-morrow morning ; 
 and I hope, whatever teacher you have, 
 you will make up your minds to be 
 respectful and obedient to her. You can 
 go now, all but Ira. I shall go home 
 with him myself and explain matters to 
 his father." 
 
 16
 
 182 THE TAME TURTLE. 
 
 " Well, Geordie, ain't you glad it has 
 turned out, so well ?" asked Torn Parsons 
 as soon as they were dismissed. 
 
 " Yes," said Geordie, " I am glad every 
 one knows I didn't take the knife." 
 
 " And ain't you glad Miss Bartlett got 
 so taken down ?" asked Sarah Brady, who 
 had always taken sides against Geordie, 
 but who now began to think him a friend 
 worth cultivating. 
 
 "I don't think I am," said Geordie; 
 " and besides, where's the taking down ? 
 She was mistaken, that was all. I wonder 
 why she isn't going to teach to-morrow ?" 
 
 " Why, don't you know ? Because she 
 won't. She said she wouldn't teach any 
 more unless she had an apology made to 
 her," said Sarah Brady, " and Mr. Antis 
 told her then she needn't. So she said 
 she wouldn't stay another minute, and 
 she just took her things and marched off. 
 I was in the shed listening, and I heard 
 every word they said." 
 
 "You were in big business listening,"
 
 THE EXPLANATION. 183 
 
 said Annie Cooke. " Won't Ira's father 
 and mother be mad, though? I guess 
 they'll find he can tell a lie now and 
 then." 
 
 " Ain't you glad he'll catch it, Geor- 
 die ?" asked Sarah. 
 
 " No, I am not," answered Geordie. 
 " You don't suppose I want Ira whipped, 
 do you ? What good would that do me ? 
 I think it was real mean in him not to 
 tell when he found his knife, and I don't 
 think Miss Bartlett did right, either, but 
 I don't want them punished." 
 
 " Oh dear me ! what a good boy we 
 are !" said Sarah, sarcastically ; "just like 
 a little boy in a Sunday-school book. 
 Do you think I'm going to believe that ?" 
 
 " No, I don't suppose you will, but it 
 is true, for all that," answered Geordie, 
 simply. 
 
 " Never mind, Geordie," said Tom. 
 " Sarah judges everybody by herself. 
 I believe you, and you are right too. 
 Revenge n\ ver does any good."
 
 184 THE TAME TURTLE. 
 
 " Wasn't Miss Thurston perfectly sp^en- 
 did ?" said Annie Cook. 
 
 "She needn't feel so grand," sneered 
 Sarah. "She used to live here with 
 Mrs. Bowers, and Mrs. Bowers sent her 
 away. My mother knows all about it." 
 
 " What if she did ? That isn't any- 
 thing against her. Geordie, wasn't you 
 surprised when you saw her ?" 
 
 " Oh no. I knew she was coming. 
 Don't you remember that time I went 
 to town with Jeduthun? I saw her 
 then, and she told me how she was com- 
 ing to visit Mrs. Antis, and she would 
 make it all right." 
 
 "Why, that was more than two weeks 
 ago," exclaimed Sarah. "Well, if you 
 don't beat everything." 
 
 " She told me not to tell, so of course 
 I didn't," answered Geordie, simply. 
 
 " Well, you are a good boy, and I'm 
 sorry I ever said anything against you," 
 said Sarah, who might have been a bet- 
 ter girl if she had had a better home.
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 AND LAST. 
 
 'HE next day, when Geordie came 
 home from school, he found Miss 
 Thurston and Mr. Maynard sit- 
 ting with his aunt. Aunt Clarke 
 looked a good deal discomposed, and 
 Geordie even thought she had been cry- 
 ing, but she did not look at all displeased, 
 " Here comes Geordie. Let him speak 
 for himself," said Aunt Clarke. " I don't 
 want to oppose anything that is to be for 
 his good, I'm sure. He's a good boy, 
 if ever there was one I'll say that for 
 him before his face, or behind his back, 
 either." 
 
 Geordie looked from one to another, 
 wondering what was the matter. Miss 
 Thurston soon explained it to him. 
 
 16 * ' 185
 
 186 THE TAME TUETLE. 
 
 There was a certain college founded for 
 orphan boys, especially sons of clergy- 
 men, where they might receive an ex- 
 cellent education, such as would fit them 
 for any station in life. Miss Thurston 
 possessed what is called a scholarship in 
 this institution that is, she had given 
 a certain sum of money, and received in 
 return the right to send a scholar for 
 the whole course and this scholarship 
 she proposed to bestow upon Geordie. 
 
 " In that way," said Miss Thurston, 
 " you can obtain an excellent education, 
 which will enable you, when you are old 
 enough, to follow your father's profes- 
 sion, if it seems to be desirable. I am 
 acquainted with the president and several 
 of the professors, and Mr. Maynard 
 knows all about the working of the in- 
 stitution. There will be no expenses 
 but your clothing, and your travelling if 
 you come home to spend your holidays. 
 Your aunt says you must decide for 
 yourself."
 
 AND LAST. 187 
 
 " I'd rather she would say," said Geor- 
 die. 
 
 " No, I won't," answered Mrs. Clarke. 
 " Of course you know, George, that I 
 don't want to lose you. I haven't always 
 used you very well, and I haven't made 
 it very pleasant for you." 
 
 " Please don't say that, Aunt Clarke," 
 said Geordie. " I have made you trou- 
 ble, I know, and you have been just as 
 good as you could be ever since I was 
 sick." 
 
 " But you must know that I can't ever 
 give you any such advantages as Miss 
 Thurston promises you," continued Mrs. 
 Clarke, stoutly resisting something which 
 made her voice rather tremulous. " I 
 shall hate to lose you, but I won't stand 
 in the way of your having a college edu- 
 cation. You must do just as you think 
 best, sonny. Think what your father 
 would have wished." 
 
 Geordie paused, and considered. 
 
 "Well?" said Miss Thurston.
 
 188 THE TAME TUETLE. 
 
 " Father wanted me to be a missionary 
 and preach to his Indians," said Geordie, 
 at last, "and I must have some educa- 
 tion, or I can't be a minister. Father 
 began to teach me himself, and he said 
 he hoped I should have a college educa- 
 tion. But then I don't want to leave 
 Aunt Clarke." 
 
 " You can come home- for holidays, 
 you know," said Mr. Maynard. 
 
 " And you can write plenty of letters," 
 added Aunt Clarke. 
 
 " What would you advise him to do, 
 Mr. Maynard?" asked Miss Thurston. 
 " Geordie is rather young to decide such 
 an important question for himself." 
 
 " I should .decidedly advise him to go," 
 -answered Mr. Maynard. "You know, 
 Geordie, I told you that if you were to 
 be a minister the way would be opened 
 for you. Don't this look like such an 
 opening ?" 
 
 " I think it does," said Geordie. " The 
 only thing is leaving Aunty Clarke."
 
 AND LAST. 189 
 
 I 
 
 " You mustn't think about that, sonny," 
 said Mrs. Clarke. " You might have to 
 go, any way, you know. As Miss 
 Thurston says, you can always write, 
 and you will be coming home for holi- 
 days. I do really think you had better 
 take the chance." 
 
 "Well, then I will," said Geordie, 
 drawing a long breath ; " but I don't 
 know what I ought to say to Miss Thurs- 
 ton for her kindness to me." 
 
 " Say you are much obliged to her, and 
 you'll try to give her the worth of the 
 money she lays out on you," said Mrs. 
 Clarke. 
 
 "I'm sure I will," said Geordie, with 
 a faltering voice. " Oh dear ! don't it 
 seem too good to think that I should go 
 and preach to father's poor Indians ?" 
 
 " That's a long way ahead, sonny," said 
 
 -Mrs. Clarke. " Maybe, by the time you 
 
 get your education, you'll think it better 
 
 to go and preach to some fashionable 
 
 congregation in the city."
 
 190 THE TAME TURTLE. 
 
 "I sha'n't, I know," said Geordie, 
 rather indignantly. 
 
 " Well, I don't believe you will," said 
 Mr. Maynard. " I have noticed that the 
 children of missionaries almost always 
 become missionaries after them. I think, 
 Geordie, you have reason to rejoice that 
 you met Miss Thurston that day, not- 
 withstanding your trouble about the 
 knife." 
 
 " Yes, indeed," answered Geordie. " It 
 has all turned out nicely, only for poor 
 Miss Bartlett. I am sorry about that." 
 
 "I really don't think you have any 
 reason to be, my son," said Mr. May- 
 nard. "Miss Bartlett was very unfit 
 for her place, and it would have been no 
 kindness to keep her in it. She did a 
 good deal of harm, as it was, and might 
 have done much more. It has all turned 
 out for the best, you may depend." 
 
 "And when shall I have to go?" 
 asked Geordie. 
 
 " Not before the middle of September,
 
 AND LAST. 191 
 
 when the college-year commences," an- 
 swered Miss Thurston. " You must run 
 about the fields and gain all the strength 
 and health you can till that time. Per- 
 haps, if you are strong enough, Mr. 
 Maynard will give your Latin a lift. 
 But we will talk that over this evening, 
 as we shall all meet at Mrs. Antis's." 
 
 " What did Miss Thurston say about 
 our meeting at Mrs. Antis's?" asked 
 Geordie, when the visitors had gone. 
 
 "Oh, we're invited up there to tea. 
 You must dress yourself all in your best 
 for the occasion, and I will put on my 
 company frock, and we'll see how nice we 
 can behave," said Mrs. Clarke. " Geor- 
 die, what do you think I shall do with- 
 out you ?" 
 
 "Are you real sorry to have me go 
 away ?" asked Geordie : 
 
 " Yes, child, or I shouldn't say so." 
 
 " Well, I don't suppose you would, 
 but it seems queer. I have made you so 
 much trouble, being sick and all. Aunty,
 
 192 THE TAME TURTLE. 
 
 when I get to be a minister out in Min- 
 nesota, will you come and keep house 
 for me ?" 
 
 " We shall see," answered Mrs. Clarke, 
 smiling. " I expect you'll be a fine 
 young gentleman, and marry a fine 
 young lady who will look down on poor 
 old Aunty Clarke." 
 
 " I sha'n't, either," answered Geordie, 
 rather indignantly. "Besides, I don't 
 think fine people always look down on 
 others. I am sure Miss Thurston don't." 
 
 " Well, I don't say she does. Perhaps 
 I have been too ready to think folks 
 looked down on me. She has certainly 
 been very good to you." 
 
 " She has been good to me in more 
 ways than one," answered Geordie. " If 
 I had never seen her again after that 
 first time, I should always thank her.!' 
 
 " Why, she got you into a pretty bad 
 scrape," said Mrs. Clarke. 
 
 " Yes, I know that. But, Aunty Clarke, 
 it was just this way. I was feeling
 
 AND LAST. 193 
 
 awful discouraged. It didn't seem to me 
 as if" 
 
 "Well, as if what?" asked Aunty 
 Clarke. " Come, Geordie, let's have it 
 all out." 
 
 " Well, then, it didn't seem to me as if 
 any one cared whether I was good or 
 not," said Geordie. "You know, Aunt 
 Clarke, you were different then." 
 
 " I'm glad to hear it," said Mrs. Clarke. 
 "Well, what then?" 
 
 "Well, Miss Thurston made me see 
 that my heavenly Father eared," said 
 Geordie, reverently. "She made me re- 
 member what my father and mother used 
 to teach me, and which I had almost for- 
 gotten the meaning of those verses about 
 the sparrows and about the hairs of our 
 head. I thought, if he cared and wanted 
 me to be good, I would never leave off 
 trying. And it was that made me feel 
 worse than anything when I had the fuss 
 about the knife. Miss Bartlett told me 
 that God hated me because I had told a 
 
 17 N
 
 194 THE TAME TURTLE. 
 
 lie, and that, do what I would, I never 
 could get back again. Mr. Maynard 
 helped me about that, though. Aunt," he 
 added, suddenly changing the subject, 
 " what shall I do with my turtle ? I hate 
 to put . him away when he has got so 
 tame." 
 
 "Don't you think I know enough to 
 take care of a turtle ?" asked Mrs. Clarke. 
 " I expect I shall be glad to have him 
 come in and eat with me for company 
 when you are gone." 
 
 So the matter was settled to the satis- 
 faction of all parties. 
 
 Except Miss Bartlett. Miss Bartlett 
 conceived that she had been worse treated 
 than any one ever had been before. She 
 had condescended in taking charge of 
 the Boonville school at all, educated as 
 .she had been, but she was willing to do 
 HO for the sake of doing good and pro- 
 moting the spread of advanced ideas. 
 But she had not been appreciated. She 
 had been interfered with and dictated to
 
 AND LAST. 195 
 
 by the committee, and forced to work 
 under her inferiors, and finally she had 
 been insulted in her school and before her 
 scholars by a purse-proud and haughty 
 minion of fashion. That was the way she 
 described Miss Thurston, and she found 
 considerable comfort in the words. She 
 also derived a good deal of consolation 
 from the remark, often repeated, that Mr. 
 Badger and Mr. Maynard were illiberal 
 and antiquated religionists, Miss Thurston 
 was the same, and that she had selected 
 Geordie for the incumbent of her scholar- 
 ship because he was just such a lump of 
 wax as she could make a tool of. She 
 also remarked that they " WAS an awful 
 mean, low, narrow-minded set, and that 
 she was glad to get quit of the whole of 
 them." She remained at home for some 
 time, and then departed to assist in the 
 management of a school at the East car- 
 ried on by a gentleman of very "ad- 
 vanced " principles. 
 
 Geordie went away at the appointed
 
 196 THE TAME TURTLE. 
 
 time, not without a good many mis- 
 givings. 
 
 " I don't know how I shall get on 
 among so many boys," he said to Jedu- 
 thun, a few days before. 
 
 " Well, now, I want to tell you one 
 thing, Geordie : you must try to pluck up 
 spirit and be a man," answered Jedu- 
 thun. ^" You are a great deal too ready 
 to be cast down when anything happens 
 to worry you. You must learn to hold 
 up your head and put things aside ; and 
 if you are found fault with, try to do 
 better next time, and let it go. I dare 
 say things won't be just right there more 
 than here I never found them just right 
 anywhere ; but you must make the best 
 of them. You mean to be a Christian, 
 don't you ?" 
 
 " Yes, indeed, 1 do." 
 
 " Well, all Christians are soldiers, you 
 know Christ's faithful soldiers and ser- 
 vants; and what kind of a soldier is it 
 that is ready to give up at the first defeat
 
 AND L.AST. 197 
 
 or the first time his captain gives him a 
 blowing up ? You try to be a man, and 
 not a baby, and you'll be all right, I dare 
 say." 
 
 Geordie came home for the Christmas 
 holidays wearing his neat uniform for 
 the school was under military discipline 
 and looking so stout and manly that 
 there was no question as to his physical 
 well-being at least. 
 
 "And you like the school part, do 
 you ?" asked Mrs. Clarke. 
 
 "Oh yes, indeed. I found it rather 
 hard at first, though. The masters are 
 ever so strict ; and if a fellow is idle or 
 troublesome, they make him see sights, I 
 can tell you ; but then, if you do behave, 
 you have first-rate times. There's lots 
 of time to play, and a first-rate place, 
 and they let the boys have pets and gar- 
 dens and Oh, it's real nice. By the 
 way, where is turtle? I suppose he 
 buried himself up when winter came." 
 
 Mrs. Clarke lifted her work from the 
 
 17*
 
 198 THE TAME TURTLE. 
 
 table of her sewing-machine. There sat 
 turtle, flat on his stomach, with his legs 
 stretched out behind, blinking and comb- 
 ing the air with his claws, as his custom 
 was when quite contented. 
 
 " He looked so kind of miserable when 
 the weather began to grow cold that I 
 brought him in, and then he seemed so 
 happy and contented that I let him stay," 
 said Mrs. Clarke. " I thought he would 
 curl up after a while, but he don't seem 
 to. He likes best to sit on the machine, 
 and he is real company for me. The 
 little fellow gave me a lesson worth a good 
 deal more than his keep, and he shall 
 have a home as long as I have one 
 myself." 
 
 Geordie is still in school, growing tall 
 and manly, and getting on famously with 
 his studies, a favourite with both school- 
 mates and teachers. 
 
 Mrs. Clarke has received quite an 
 accession of property from the will of 
 her father-in-law, which places her in
 
 AND LAST. 199 
 
 very easy circumstances; and last sum- 
 mer vacation she actually took Geordie 
 up to Minnesota to visit his Indian 
 friends. He found Michael and Marie 
 Choquette well and prosperous, and Mrs. 
 Clarke stayed a week with them, and 
 never once found fault with Marie's man- 
 agement, though she expressed the opin- 
 ion afterward that she had eaten her full 
 " peck of dirt," and a little over. 
 
 Geordie had the pleasure of present- 
 ing Michael's revolver and Marie's shawl 
 with his own hands, and the supreme 
 delight of a three days' hunting expe- 
 dition in the great woods with his old 
 friend. 
 
 THE END.

 
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