The Settlers at Home | Page 4

France.
It was a great delight for Oliver to find, on settling in Axholme, that he
could have as much alabaster as he pleased, if he could only work it.
With a little help from Pastor Dendel and his father, he soon learned to
do so; and of all his employments, he liked this the best. Pastor Dendel
brought him a few bowls and cups of pretty shapes and different sizes,
made of common wood by a turner, who was one of his flock; and
Oliver first copied these in clay, and then in alabaster. By degrees he
learned to vary his patterns, and at last to make his clay models from
fancies of his own,--some turning out failures, and others prettier than
any of his wooden cups. These last he proceeded to carve out of
alabaster.
Mildred could not help watching him while he was about his favourite
work, though it was difficult to keep little George from tossing the
alabaster about, and stamping on the best pieces, or sucking them. He
would sometimes give his sister a few minutes' peace and quiet by
rolling the wooden bowls the whole length of the room, and running
after them: and there was also an hour, in the middle of the day, when
he went to sleep in his large Dutch cradle. At those times Mildred
would consult with her brother about his work; or sew or watch him by
turns; or read one of the pastor's little books, stopping occasionally to
wonder whether Oliver could attend at once to his carving, and to what
she was reading. When she saw that he was spoiling any part, or that
his hand was shaking, she would ask whether he had not been at work
long enough; and then they would run out to the garden or the quarry,

or to jump George (if he was awake again) from the second mill-step.
One fine month of August, not a breath of wind had been blowing for a
week or two, so that the mill-sails had not made a single turn; not a
load of gypsum had been brought during the time, and Oliver was quite
out of alabaster; though, as it happened, he much wanted a good supply,
for a particular reason. Every morning he brought out his tools; and
every morning the sky was so clear, the corn-fields so still--the very
trees so silent, that he wondered whether there had ever been so calm a
month of August before. His father and he employed their time upon
the garden, while they had so good an opportunity. Before it was all put
in order, and the entire stock of autumn cabbages set, there came a
breezy day; and the children were left to finish the cabbage patch by
themselves. While they were at work, it made them merry to hear the
mill-sails whirring through the air, and to see, at intervals, the trees
above the quarry bowing their heads, and the reeds waving in the
swamp, and the water of the meadow-ponds dimpling and rippling, as
the wind swept over the Levels. Oliver soon heard something that he
liked better still--the creak of the truck that brought the gypsum from
the quarry, and the crack of the driver's whip.
He threw down the dibble with which he was planting out his
cabbages-- tripped over the line he had set to direct his drilling,
tumbled on his face, scrambled up again, and ran, rubbing the dirt from
his knees as he went, to look out some alabaster from the load.
Mildred was not long after him, though he called to her that she had
better stay and finish the cabbages, and though little George,
immediately on feeling himself at liberty, threw himself upon the fresh
mould of the cabbage bed, and amused himself with pulling up, and
flinging right and left, the plants that had just been set. How could
Mildred attend to this, when she was sure she was wanted to turn over
the gypsum, and see what she could find? So Master George went on
with his pranks, till Ailwin, by accident, saw him from the yard, ran
and snatched him up, flung him over her shoulder, and carried him
away screaming, till, to pacify him, she set him down among the
poultry, which he presently found more amusing than young cabbage

plants.
"Now we shall have a set of new cups for the spring, presently," said
Oliver, as he measured lump after lump with his little foot-rule.
"Cups for the waters!" exclaimed his father. "So that is the reason of
this prodigious hurry, is it, my boy? You think tin cups not good
enough for your mother, or for her customers, or for the waters. Which
of them do you think ought to