"May I come?" asked Harry.
"And I, too?" said Fred.
"I don't know about you, Fred," said Tom; "I should like to have Harry, for neither Walter nor I can sing, and we want some one to set the tunes for the little ones. But I am afraid you will make mischief."
"Indeed I won't, Tom. Let me come and I will be as quiet as a mouse, and give you leave to turn me out if I do the first thing."
"Well, then, you may come, but I shall hold you to your word and send you away if you make the least disturbance. I don't mean this for play."
"Honor bright," said Fred.
They all went out and met Walter who was coming up the path with a troop of little ones after him. There were Lily and Eddie Norris, Gracie Howard, Mamie Stone, Julia and Charlie Bolton, and half a dozen more beside.
Tom marched them into the barn, where he and Mr. Jones had arranged the school-room.
And a fine school-room the children thought it; better than those in the city to which some of them went every Sunday. There were two long piles of hay with boards laid on top of them, – one covered with a buffalo robe, the other with a couple of sheep skins, making nice seats. In front of these was Tom's place, – an empty barrel turned upside-down for his desk, and Fred's velocipede for his seat. The children did not in the least care that hay was strewn all over the floor, or that the old horse who was in the other part of the barn, would now and then put his nose through the little opening above his manger, and look in at them as if he wondered what they were about.
"Oh, isn't this splendid?" said Maggie. "It is better than our Infant school-room, in Dr. Hill's church."
"So it is," said Lily. "I wish we always went to Sunday-school here, and had Tom for our teacher."
Some of the little ones wanted to play, and began to throw hay at each other; but Tom put a stop to this; he had not brought them there to romp, he said, and those who wanted to be noisy must go away. Then he told them all to take their seats.
Maggie had already taken hers on the end of one of the hay benches, with Bessie next to her, and Lily on the other side of Bessie. Gracie Howard sat down by Lily, and Mamie Stone was going to take her place next, when Gracie said, "You sha'n't sit by me, Mamie."
"Nor by me," said Lily.
"Nor me, nor me," said two or three of the others.
Now Mamie saw how she had made the other children dislike her by her ill-humor and unkindness, and she did not find it at all pleasant to stand there and have them all saying they would not sit by her.
"I want to go home," she said, while her face grew very red, and she looked as if she were going to cry.
"Who is going to be kind, and sit by Mamie," asked Tom.
"I should think none of them who know how she can pinch," said Fred.
"Oh, we are going to forget all that," said Tom. "Come, children, make room for Mamie."
"This bench is full," said Lily, "she can't come here."
Mamie began to cry. "There is plenty of room on the other bench," said Tom; "sit there, Mamie."
"I don't want to," answered Mamie; "there's nothing but boys there, and I want to go home."
"Why," said Tom, "what a bad thing that would be, to begin our Sunday-school by having one of our little scholars go home because none of the rest will sit by her. That will never do."
All this time Maggie had sat quite still, looking at Mamie. She was thinking of what Tom had said to her, and of being Jesus' little lamb. Here was a chance to show Mamie that she was ready to be friends with her, but it was hard work. She did not at all like to go away from her little sister whom she loved so much, to sit by Mamie whom she did not love at all, and who had been so unkind to Bessie. She rose up slowly from her seat, with cheeks as red as Mamie's and said, —
"Tom, I'll go on the other seat and sit by Mamie."
"And just get pinched for it," said Lily: "stay with us, Maggie."
Mamie took her hand down from her face and looked at Maggie with great surprise.
"She wants some one to sit with her," said Maggie, "and I had better go."
"Maggie is doing as she would be done by," said Tom.
Then Maggie felt glad, for she knew she was doing right. "Come, Mamie," she said, and she took hold of Mamie's hand, and they sat down together on the other bench.
"You are a good girl, Midget," said Harry, "and it's more than you deserve, Miss Mamie."
"I don't care," said Mamie. "I love Maggie, and I don't love any of the rest of you, except only Tom."
Here Tom called his school to order and said there must be no more talking, for he was going to read, and all must be quiet. He went behind his barrel-desk, and opening his Bible, read to them about the Saviour blessing little children. Then they sang, "I want to be an Angel." Harry and Fred, with their beautiful clear voices, started the tune, and all the children joined in, for every one of them knew the pretty hymn.
Next, Tom read how Jesus was born in Bethlehem of Judea, in a rough stable and laid not in a pretty cradle such as their baby brothers and sisters slept in, but in a manger where the wise men of the east came and worshipped Him: and how after Joseph and Mary had been told by God to fly into the land of Egypt with the infant Saviour, the wicked king, Herod, killed all the dear little babies in the land, with the hope that Jesus might be among them. When he came to any thing which he thought the children would not understand, he stopped and explained it to them. "Now we will sing again," he said, when he had done reading, "and the girls shall choose the hymns. Maggie, dear, what shall we sing first?"
Maggie knew what she would like, but she was too shy to tell, and she looked at Tom without speaking. Tom thought he knew, and said, "I'll choose for you, then. We will sing, 'Jesus, little lamb;' whoever knows it, hold up their hand."
Half a dozen little hands went up, but Tom saw that all the children did not know it. "What shall we do?" he said. "Maggie would like that best, I think; but I suppose all want to sing, and some do not know the words."
"Never mind," said Gracie Howard, who was one of those who had not held up her hand, "if Maggie wants it we'll sing it, because she was so good and went and sat by Mamie. If we don't know the words we can holler out the tune all the louder."
Some of the children began to laugh when Gracie said this, but Tom said, "I have a better plan than that. I will say the first verse over three or four times, line by line, and you may repeat it after me; then we will sing it, and so go on with the next verse."
This was done. Tom said the lines slowly and distinctly, and those who did not know the hymn repeated them. While they were learning the first verse in this way, Mamie whispered to Maggie, "Maggie, I love you."
"Do you?" said Maggie, as if she could not quite believe it.
"Yes, because you are good; don't you love me. Maggie?"
"Well, no, not much," said Maggie, "but I'll try to."
"I wish you would," said Mamie; "and I wont snatch your things, nor slap you, nor do anything."
"I'll love you if you do a favor to me," said Maggie.
"Yes, I will, if it is not to give you my new crying baby."
"Oh, I don't want your crying baby, nor any of your toys," said Maggie. "I only want you to promise that you won't pinch my Bessie again. Why, Mamie, you ought to be more ashamed of yourself than any girl that ever lived; her arm is all black and blue yet."
"I didn't mean to hurt her so much," said Mamie, "and I was sorry when Bessie cried so; but then you slapped me, and Lily slapped me, and Jane scolded me, and so I didn't care, but was glad I did it; but I am sorry, now, and I'll never do it again."
"And I sha'n't slap you, if you do," said Maggie.
"What will you do, then?"
"I'll just