The Fairy School of Castle Frank, Page 3

  CHAPTER III.

  THE STRANGE SCHOOL CLASS.

  Full many a beauteous lesson, too, Their rosy lips can teach; Great men would wonder if they knew How well the fairies preach. _Havergal._

  One day in June, when the sky was as blue as it is in Italy, and whenall the trees and shrubs were dressed in bright green, there was acurious sight in the Fairy Garden of Castle Frank. Under the shade ofa big apple-tree, and upon a long school-like seat, there sat twelvelittle jet-black squirrels. They were but half-grown creatures, theoffspring of different parents. They sat upon their haunches, all in arow, with their forefeet raised as hands, holding tiny slates. Rightin front of them stood Robin, giving them a question in arithmetic toanswer.

  "How many walnuts are 2 and 4 and 6?"

  "How many walnuts are 2 and 4 and 6?"]

  "Not half enough for them anyway," said a tame grey parrot, sitting ona branch above the class.

  The little squirrels shook their tails and tittered and said"tut--tut--tut--," but the teacher looked up and gently said--

  "You are not one of the class; please keep quiet, Chattie" (which wasthe parrot's name).

  "I am above their class anyway," replied Chattie.

  "Please do not take away their attention," said the teacher patiently.

  "Yes, the friskies need all their attention. It is the first rule ofgetting on. It was the first thing that helped me to speak anyway."And here Chattie stopped, believing that she had said a wise thing(which indeed was true), and that it was prudent to stop now for fearof offending her master.

  "Put up your slates, all that have got the answer down," requested theteacher.

  Every slate went up except one. Examining them, Robin saw that fourhad the correct answer, seven were wrong and one was unfinished. Theteacher commended the successful pupils, helped those that weremistaken, and worked out the sum for the pupil that had stuck. Thistook a long time, for Robin wished everyone to understand before goingfurther. He then made a sign to Chattie to give the signal fordismissal of the class. Chattie did so, giving a loud shrill whistle,ending in a long cat-like yell that filled the woods and made thefriskies and Robin laugh outright; which greatly pleased the parrot,for she loved to talk and make a noise and be well thought of. Thesignal over, the squirrels marched away to their several homes, laidaside their slates and went out to play.

  "You do not believe much in cram," said Chattie, as the pupils marchedaway.

  "Mother says that 'cramming makes the figures blurred and weak;education makes them bright and strong.'"

  "Ah," replied Chattie, "but laziness makes no figure at all."

  Robin smiled and asked her to come home with him to tea. Chattie washis constant companion, and she flew down upon his shoulder and rubbedher head affectionately against his soft, ruddy cheek.

  "I suspect you have a cheat in the class," said the parrot.

  "I hope not," replied Robin trustfully, and he walked into the castleto partake of tea with his mother, who was alone, his father being faraway on government business.

  Robin's mother was much interested in the progress of thesquirrel-class, not only as a pleasure and discipline for the pupilsthemselves, but as helping to train her darling boy in patience andkindness. These little creatures sometimes found their lessonsirksome, and being naturally frisky they would suddenly leap from theirseat and chase each other over a score of trees, while Robin entreatedand waited patiently for their return; but they were gradually gettinginterested in their lessons and trained to attention and submission,out of love for their teacher. Robin's mother also wished her boy tolearn the value of thoroughness. If he could observe that a pupil thatthoroughly understood the lessons would be able to do them alone,whereas one that copied from others would fail when left alone, itwould stimulate thoroughness where he himself was a learner.

  When Robin entered the room his mother was already seated and waitinghim. "Good evening, mother dear," he said, and he went forward andkissed her. He loved his mother much, and well he might. We do notlove people for what they promise or give us, but for the heart thatlies behind. Bad people may give much for their own ends, but we donot trust or love them. Robin's mother had a tenderness of heart thatwarmed and enhanced the beauty of her face, so much so that herservants and the poorest felt quite at home in her presence. She hadalso refinement and intelligence, giving her a dignity that kept eventhe rudest from being familiar and disrespectful. The Indians of thedistrict called her _Ininatig_, the maple tree, because they thoughther so sweet and beautiful. During tea there was much conversationabout Robin's father, and when it was over his mother said--

  "I have a gift for your best pupil, and something for all of them, whenvacation comes."

  "What are the gifts, mother?" Robin asked eagerly.

  "A big white toy-horse for the first, a doll for the second, alooking-glass for the third, a tall hat for the fourth, then a trumpet,a small sword, a little ship, and so on, getting less and less in valueaccording to the pupil's merit."

  Robin was delighted.

  Next morning the twelve young friskies were in their places as usual,and it was such a pretty picture to look at the row of glossy blackbodies, with a silk ribbon around each neck to distinguish one blackpupil from another. Number one wore a red ribbon, number two a white,number three a blue, and so on, each a different color down to thelast, who wore a modest black.

  When the teacher announced that prizes were to be given when the schoolsession was over, there was much gladness, with many promises ofattention and diligence for the time to come. Proceeding to work, heasked--

  "If you divide 24 nuts among 12 good friskies, how many are left?"

  "They're all left if they're bad," said Chattie.

  Red, White, and Blue were correct, each having a big round O on theirslates. So was number four, called Silver Ribbon. Several of theothers were incorrect. Black Ribbon wrote down that he thought theparrot was right, but that after all he wasn't sure if the nuts werebad. He had a big head, a loving heart, and open honest brown eyes,and when the teacher saw what was written down he laughed and took himup in his arms and kissed him.

  "My simple pet," said Robin, "you have as good a head as the others,but you have not been so long in the class; and, besides, your mamma isa poor, sick widow and unable to help you with your lessons."

  Silver Ribbon (whose constant position for a certain reason was againstthe apple-tree) was the oftenest correct of all the class; but thoughvery frolicsome and good-looking, she had a strange sly look about herface, very different from Black Ribbon's.

  Chattie was pleased to hear her master sympathise with Black Ribbon,and desiring that no one might overlook his remark, she very distinctlysaid--

  "Failure does not always mean a faulty head."

  She had quite a liking for Black Ribbon, and well she might: he was asplendid climber of trees, and a magnificent leaper from branch tobranch, his best feats being performed too whether the others werelooking on or not. He was also civil and kind to everyone, and wasmost helpful to his sick mother at home. For these reasons, Chattiehad lately taken his arithmetic in hand, but she was a great joker, andsometimes led the simple-minded little fellow astray. She was verysorry for his helpless mother, and therefore she visited her every day,prepared her meals, chatted with her, made her bed and swept the housewith her tail. Indeed widow Black Ribbon's final recovery was due toChattie's careful nursing, rather than to Dr. Beaver's baths and poplarpills.