• Choose a category
• All
• Classic-Fiction

By Root 597 0

could be like Mercy, Kit thought. When her own voice rose in exasperation she was ashamed, remembering Mercy's unfailing patience. Watching Mercy this morning, she thought again, soberly, of the words that Mercy had spoken earlier in the summer. There had been a rare afternoon when Judith had invited Kit to go with some other girls of the town to pick flowers and picnic along the shore of the river. At the last moment Kit had turned back to Mercy and cried impulsively, "Oh, if only you could go, too, Mercy! How can you bear it, always staying behind?"

And Mercy had answered serenely, "Oh, I settled that a long time ago. I remember it very well. Father had carried me to the doorstep, and I sat there watching the children playing a game in the road. I thought of all the things I would never be able to do. And then I thought about the things that I could do. Since then I've just never thought much about it."

Teaching the children was certainly something that Mercy could do, with love and skill. And yet, Kit often wondered, what was it worth, all this work to master their letters? She herself had been eager to learn, scarcely able to wait to open the wonderful volumes in Grandfather's library. But most of these children would never even imagine the adventure that words could mean. Here in New England books contained only a dreary collection of sermons, or at most some pious religious poetry.

Sighing, Kit glanced over the docilely bent heads of her charges toward the open doorway, and as she did so a sudden motion caught her attention. She moved quickly.

I'm sure someone is out there again, she thought. Today I'm going to find out.

Yes, for the third time a little bunch of flowers, buttercups and wild geraniums, lay on the doorstep. As she bent to pick them up she was certain that a shadowy figure slipped behind a tree. Curiosity made her forget her pupils, and stepping into the road she saw the small figure plainly and recognized Prudence Cruff.

"Prudence," she called. "Don't run away. Is it you who left the flowers?"

The child came slowly from behind the tree. She was thinner than ever, clad in a shapeless sacklike affair tied about her middle. Her eyes, much too big for her pinched little face, gazed at Kit with longing. She reminded Kit of a young fawn that had wandered near the house one morning. It had drawn nearer just like this, quivering with eagerness at the food Mercy set out, yet tensed to spring at the slightest warning.

"Who are the flowers for, Prudence?"

"You." The child's voice was nothing but a hoarse whisper.

"Thank you. They're lovely. But why don't you come into the school with the others?"

"I'm too big," stammered Prudence.

"You mean you know how to read already?"

"Naw. Pa wanted me to go to school, but Ma says I'm too stupid."

"You don't really believe that, do you Prudence?"

A bare toe dug into the dirt of the roadway. "I dunno. I can hear you when the door is open. I bet I could learn as good as them."

"Of course you could, and you ought to. Why don't you come in with me right now, and see how easy it is?"

Prudence shook her head violently. "Somebody'd tell on me."

"What if they did?"

"Ma'd cane me. I'm not s'posed to speak to you."

Remembering Goodwife Cruff's hard thin mouth, Kit did not urge. "Prudence," she suggested instead, "you could learn to read by yourself if you really wanted to."

"I haven't any horn."

Kit remembered something. "Is there a place where you could meet me where no one would tell on you?" she asked. "Can you get to the Meadows?"

Prudence nodded. "Nobody cares where I go, just so's I get the work done," she said.

"Then if you'll try to meet me there this afternoon, I'll bring you a hornbook and I'll teach you to read some of it. Will you come?"

"If I get finished—" Prudence breathed.

"You know the path that leads from South Road over to Blackbird Pond?"

Prudence gulped. "The witch lives down there!"

"Don't be silly! She's a gentle old woman who wouldn't harm a field mouse. Anyway, you don't need to go that far. There's a big willow tree just down the