“‘Thou shalt haf thy Bhaer; come, then, and take a goot hug from him, my Tina,’ said the Professor, catching her up, with a laugh, and holding her so high over his head that she had to stoop her little face to kiss him.
“‘Now me mus tuddy my lessin,’ went on the funny little thing; so he put her up at the table, opened the great dictionary she had brought, and gave her a paper and pencil, and she scribbled away, turning a leaf now and then, and passing her little fat finger down the page, as if finding a word, so soberly that I nearly betrayed myself by a laugh, while Mr. Bhaer stood stroking her pretty hair, with a fatherly look, that made me think she must be his own, though she looked more French than German.
“Another knock and the appearance of two young ladies sent me back to my work, and there I virtuously remained through all the noise and gabbling that went on next door. One of the girls kept laughing affectedly, and saying “Now Professor,” in a coquettish tone, and the other pronounced her German with an accent that must have made it hard for him to keep sober.
“Both seemed to try his patience sorely; for more than once I heard him say emphatically, ‘No, no, it is not so; you haf not attend to what I say;’ and once there was a loud rap, as if he struck the table with his book, followed by the despairing exclamation, “Prut! it all goes bad this day.”
“Poor man, I pitied him; and when the girls were gone, took just one more peep, to see if he survived it. He seemed to have thrown himself back in his chair, tired out, and sat there with his eyes shut till the clock struck two, when he jumped up, put his books in his pocket, as if ready for another lesson, and, taking little Tina, who had fallen asleep on the sofa, in his arms, he carried her quietly away. I fancy he has a hard life of it.
“Mrs. Kirke asked me if I wouldn’t go down to the five o’clock dinner; and, feeling a little bit homesick, I thought I would, just to see what sort of people are under the same roof with me. So I made myself respectable, and tried to slip in behind Mrs. Kirke; but as she is short, and I’m tall, my efforts at concealment were rather a failure. She gave me a seat by her, and after my face cooled off, I plucked up courage, and looked about me. The long table was full, and every one intent on getting their dinner,—the gentlemen especially, who seemed to be eating on time, for they bolted in every sense of the word, vanishing as soon as they were done. There was the usual assortment of young men absorbed in themselves; young couples absorbed in each other; married ladies in their babies, and old gentlemen in politics. I don’t think I shall care to have much to do with any of them, except one sweet-faced maiden lady, who looks as if she had something in her.
“Cast away at the very bottom of the table was the Professor, shouting answers to the questions of a very inquisitive, deaf old gentleman on one side, and talking philosophy with a Frenchman on the other. If Amy had been here, she’d have turned her back on him forever, because, sad to relate, he had a great appetite, and shovelled in his dinner in a manner which would have horrified “her ladyship.” I didn’t mind, for I like “to see folks eat with a relish,” as Hannah says, and the poor man must have needed a deal of food after teaching idiots all day.
“As I went upstairs after dinner, two of the young men were settling their hats before the hall-mirror, and I heard one say low to the other, “Who’s the new party?”
“‘Governess, or something of that sort.’
“‘What the deuce is she at our table for?’
“‘Friend of the old lady’s.’
“‘Handsome head, but no style.’
“‘Not a bit of it. Give us a light and come on.’
“I felt angry at first, and then I didn’t care, for a governess is as good as a clerk, and I’ve got sense, if I haven’t style, which is more than some people have, judging from the remarks of the elegant beings who clattered away, smoking like bad chimneys. I hate ordinary people!”
“Yesterday was a quiet day, spent in teaching, sewing, and writing in my little room, which is very cosey, with a light and fire. I picked up a few bits of news, and was introduced to the Professor. It seems that Tina is the child of the Frenchwoman who does the fine ironing in the laundry here. The little thing has lost her heart to Mr. Bhaer, and follows him about the house like a dog whenever he is at home, which delights him, as he is very fond of children, though a “bacheldore.” Kitty and Minnie Kirke likewise regard him with affection, and tell all sorts of stories about the plays he invents, the presents he brings, and the splendid tales he tells. The young men quiz him, it seems, call him Old Fritz, Lager Beer, Ursa Major, and make all manner of jokes on his name. But he enjoys it like a boy, Mrs. K. says, and takes it so good-naturedly that they all like him, in spite of his foreign ways.
“The maiden lady is a Miss Norton,—rich, cultivated, and kind. She spoke to me at dinner to-day (for I went to table again, it’s such fun to watch people), and asked me to come and see her at her room. She has fine books and pictures, knows interesting persons, and seems friendly; so I shall make myself agreeable, for I do want to get into good society, only it isn’t the same sort that Amy likes.
“I was in our parlor last evening, when Mr. Bhaer came in with some newspapers for Mrs. Kirke. She wasn’t there, but Minnie, who is a little old woman, introduced me very prettily: “This is mamma’s friend, Miss March.”
“‘Yes; and she’s jolly and we like her lots,’ added Kitty, who is an enfant terrible.
“We both bowed, and then we laughed, for the prim introduction and the blunt addition were rather a comical contrast.
“‘Ah, yes, I hear these naughty ones go to vex you, Mees Marsch. If so again, call at me and I come,’ he said, with a threatening frown that delighted the little wretches.
“I promised I would, and he departed; but it seems as if I was doomed to see a good deal of him, for to-day, as I passed his door on my way out, by accident I knocked against it with my umbrella. It flew open, and there he stood in his dressing gown, with a big blue sock on one hand, and a darning-needle in the other; he didn’t seem at all ashamed of it, for when I explained and hurried on, he waved his hand, sock and all, saying in his loud, cheerful way,—
“‘You haf a fine day to make your walk. Bon voyage, mademoiselle.’
“I laughed all the way downstairs; but it was a little pathetic, also, to think of the poor man having to mend his own clothes. The German gentlemen embroider, I know; but darning hose is another thing, and not so pretty.”
“Nothing has happened to write about, except a call on Miss Norton, who has a room full of lovely things, and who was very charming, for she showed me all her treasures, and asked me if I would sometimes go with her to lectures and concerts, as her escort,—if I enjoyed them. She put it as a favor, but I’m sure Mrs. Kirke has told her about us, and she does it out of kindness to me. I’m as proud as Lucifer, but such favors from such people don’t burden me, and I accepted gratefully.
“When I got back to the nursery there was such an uproar in the parlor that I looked in; and there was Mr. Bhaer down on his hands and knees, with Tina on his back, Kitty leading him with a jump-rope, and Minnie feeding two small boys with seed-cakes, as they roared and ramped in cages built of chairs.
“‘We are playing nargerie,’ explained Kitty.
“‘Dis is mine effalunt!’ added Tina, holding on by the Professor’s hair.
“‘Mamma always allows us to do what we like Saturday afternoon, when Franz and Emil come, doesn’t she, Mr. Bhaer?’ said Minnie.
“The “effalunt” sat up, looking as much in earnest as any of them, and said soberly to me,—
“‘I gif you my wort it is so. If we make too large a noise you shall say “Hush!” to us, and we go more softly.’
“I promised to do so, but left the door open, and enjoyed the fun as much as they did,—for a more glorious frolic I never witnessed. They played tag and soldiers, danced and sung, and when it began to grow dark they all piled on to the sofa about the Professor, while he told charming fairy stories of the storks on the chimney-tops, and the little “kobolds,” who ride the snow-flakes as they fall. I wish Americans were as simple and natural as Germans, don’t you?
“I’m so fond of writing, I should go spinning on forever if motives of economy didn’t stop me, for though I’ve used thin paper and written fine, I tremble to think of the stamps this long letter will need. Pray forward Amy’s as soon as you can spare them. My small news will sound very flat after her splendors, but you will like them, I know. Is Teddy studying so hard that he can’t find time to write to his friends? Take good care of him for me, Beth, and tell me all about the babies, and give heaps of love to every one.
“From your faithful
“P. S. On reading over my letter it strikes me as rather Bhaery; but I am always interested in odd people, and I really had nothing else to write about. Bless you!”