Nelly"s Silver Mine.
by Helen Hunt Jackson.
CHAPTER I
CHRISTMAS-DAY IN NELLY"S NEW-ENGLAND HOME
It was Christmas morning; and Nelly March and her brother Rob were lying wide awake in their beds, wondering if it would do for them to get up and look in their stockings to see what Santa Claus had brought them. Nelly and Rob were twins; but you would never have thought so, when you looked at them, for Nelly was half a head taller than Rob, and a good deal heavier. She had always been well; but Rob had always been a delicate child. He was ill now with a bad sore throat, and had been shut up in the house for ten days. This was the reason that he and Nelly were in bed at six o"clock this Christmas morning, instead of scampering all about the house, and waking everybody up with their shouts of delight over their presents. When they went to bed the night before, Mrs. March had said: "Now, Rob, you must promise me not to get out of bed till it is broad daylight, and the house is thoroughly warm. You will certainly take cold, if you get up in the cold room."
"Mamma," said Nelly, "I needn"t stay in bed just because Rob has to, need I? I can take his presents out of the stocking, and carry them to him."
"You shan"t, either," said Rob, fretfully. "I want to take them out myself; and you"re real mean not to wait for me, Nell. "Tisn"t half so much fun for just one. Shan"t she stay in bed too, mamma, as long as I have to?"
Mrs. March looked at Nelly, and smiled. She knew Nelly had not thought Rob would care any thing about her getting up first, or she would never have proposed it. Nelly was always ready to give up to Rob, much more so than was for his good.
"Nelly can do as she pleases, Rob," she answered. "I don"t think it would be fair for me to compel her to stay in bed because you have a sore throat: do you?"
But Rob did not answer. He was not a very generous boy, and all he was thinking of now was his own pleasure.
"Say, Nell," he cried, "you won"t get up, will you, till I can?
Don"t: I"ll think you"re real unkind if you do."
"No, no, Rob," said Nelly. "Indeed I won"t. I don"t care. It will be all the longer to think about it, and that"s almost the best part of it." And Nelly threw her arms around Rob"s neck and kissed him.
"It"s too bad, you darling," she said, "you have to be sick on Christmas-day. I won"t have any pudding, either, if you don"t want me to."
Mrs. March was an Englishwoman, and had lived in England till she was married, and she always had on Christmas-day a real English plum-pudding with brandy turned over it, and set on fire just before the pudding was brought to the table, so that when it came in the blue and red and yellow flames were all blazing up high over it, and the waitress had to turn her head away not to breathe the heat from the flames.
You would have thought it would have made Rob ashamed to have Nelly propose to go without pudding because he could not eat any, but I don"t think it did. All he said was,--
"Don"t be a goose, Nell. That"s quite different."
Just before they went to sleep, Sarah, the cook, went past their door, and Nelly called to her:--
"Sarah, mamma says we mustn"t get up to-morrow morning till the house is very warm. Couldn"t you get up very early and start the furnace fire?"
"Why, yes, Miss Nelly, I can do that easy enough, sure; but where"ll you be sleeping?"
"Just where we always do, Sarah," replied Nelly, much surprised at this question.
"Well, miss, I"ll be up long before light and get the house as warm as toast by the time you can see to tell the toes from the heels of your stockings," said Sarah. "Good-night, Miss Nelly. Good-night, Master Rob."
"What could she have meant asking where we"d be sleeping?" said Rob.
"I"m sure I don"t know," said Nelly; "it"s very queer. We"ve never slept anywhere but in these two beds since we were babies. I don"t know what"s got into her head. It"s the queerest thing I ever knew.
I guess she was sleepy," and in a few moments both the children were fast asleep.
Rob was the first to wake up. It was not much past midnight.
"Nelly," he whispered. No answer.
Twice he called: still no answer. There was not a sound to be heard except the loud ticking of the high clock at the head of the stairs.
Presently there came a rustle and quick low steps, and his mother stood by his bed.
"What do you want, my dear little boy?" she said. "Is your throat worse?"
"No; isn"t it time to get up?" said Rob. "Hasn"t Sarah made the fire?"
"Oh, mercy!" exclaimed Mrs. March. "Is that all? Why Rob! it isn"t anywhere near morning. You must go to sleep again, child; it is a terribly cold night," and she tucked the bed-clothes tight around him, and ran back to her own room.
"I don"t care," said Rob. "I"ll just stay awake. I don"t believe it"ll be very long;" but before he knew it he was fast asleep again.
The next time he waked, it had begun to be light, or rather a little less dark. He could see the outline of the window at the foot of his bed, and he could see Nelly"s bedstead, which was on the opposite side of the room.
"Nelly," he called again.
"I"m awake," said Nelly.
"Why didn"t you speak?" said Rob.
"I was thinking," replied Nelly. "Sarah hasn"t gone down yet."
"Pshaw," said Rob, "she must have. She said she"d go long before light. She went before you were awake."
"It"s awful cold," whispered Nelly; "I can"t keep even my hands out of bed. I"m going to jump up and see if any hot air comes in at the register." So saying, she jumped out of bed, ran to the register, and held her hands above it.
"Cold as Greenland, Rob," she said, "Sarah can"t have made the fire.
I don"t believe she is up."
"Oh, dear," said Rob, "every thing all goes wrong when I"m sick. I think it"s too mean I have to be the sick one just because we"re twins. I heard a lady say once to mamma,--she didn"t think I heard but I did,--"Weren"t you very sorry, Mrs. March, to have twins? You know they can"t ever both be strong. Your Rob, now, he looks very sickly." Civil, that was, to mamma, wasn"t it? I was so mad I could have flung my ball at her old wise head. But I think it must be true, because mamma answered her real gentle, but with her voice all trembly, and she said, "Yes, I know that is usually said to be so; but we hope to prove to the contrary. Rob grows stronger every year, and he and his sister take so much comfort together, I can never regret that they were born twins." But I do: I think it"s a shame to make a fellow sick all his life that way. I say, Nell, I don"t believe you"d mind it half so much as I do. Girls are different from boys. I think it would have been better for you to be the sick one than me. Don"t you? Say, Nell!"
This was a hard question for poor Nelly.
"Oh, Rob!" she said, "I don"t want to be selfish about it. I"d be willing to take turns and be sick half the times; or some more than half,--I guess three-quarters: but I think you ought to have a little."
"But don"t you see, Nell, it can"t be that way," interrupted Rob; "it can"t be that way with twins. It"s got to be one sick one and one strong one. That"s what that lady said, and mamma said she"d heard so too; and I think it"s just as mean as any thing. They might have let us be born as much as three days apart, or a week: that wouldn"t have made any difference in the fun; we could have played just as well, and, besides, we"d have had two birthdays to keep then, don"t you see?"
"I don"t think that would be so nice, Rob," said Nelly, "as to have one together. That would be like my getting up now, before you do, and having my stocking all to myself, and you didn"t want me to do that."
"Pshaw, Nell," replied Rob, impatiently as before: "that"s quite different; but girls never see things."
Nelly laughed out loud. "I don"t know why: we have as many eyes as boys have. I see lots more things in the woods than you do, always."
"Oh, not that sort of things," answered Rob; "not that kind of seeing; not with your eyes: I mean to see with your--well, I don"t know what it is you see with, the kind I mean; but don"t you know mamma often says to papa about something that"s got to be done, "don"t you see? don"t you see?" and she doesn"t mean that he is to look with his eyes: that"s the kind I mean. Now where is that Sarah?" he exclaimed suddenly, sitting bolt upright in bed in his excitement. "It"s as cold as out-doors here, and there isn"t a creature stirring in the house, and it"s broad daylight."
"Oh, Rob, do lie down and cover yourself up," cried Nelly. "You"re a naughty boy, and you"ll have another sore throat as sure"s you"re alive. It isn"t broad daylight nor any thing like it. I can"t but just see the stockings."