The Young Bank Messenger Part 32

"At any rate, I am not old enough."

When breakfast was over there was the long day before them to be filled up in some way.

"Don't you ever wish to go out of the cave, Frank?" asked Ernest.

"Where?" asked the little boy.

"Into the bright suns.h.i.+ne, out on the green gra.s.s, and under the trees."

"Yes; I think I should like it," answered Frank, thoughtfully. "But papa does not want me to go. I don't know why. Do many little boys live in caves like me?"

"No; I don't think so."

"Can they walk about in the suns.h.i.+ne, and play?"

"I always did."

"Do you like it better than living here?"

"Yes."

"Then what made you come here?"

This was an embarra.s.sing question, and Ernest felt that he must be careful in answering. "Your papa wanted me to make you a visit," he replied after a pause.

"And I am glad you came. It isn't so lonely for me. Before, I had only Juba."

"Wouldn't she play with you?" asked Ernest with a smile.

Frank laughed merrily.

"Juba is too old to play. I hope you will stay with me a good while."

Ernest could not echo this wish, so he answered evasively,

"I can't tell yet how long I shall stay. But the time will come when you will leave the cave and live like other little boys in a house."

"Did papa tell you that?"

"He told me that he should send you to school before long."

"What is a school like?" asked the little boy anxiously.

Few boys of ten would have been obliged to put this question, but Frank had been secluded from the world ever since he was a baby.

"There will be a good many boys, some older, some younger, than yourself. You will study lessons together, and play together."

"I think that will be nice."

"Yes; I am sure you will enjoy it."

"Did you ever go to school?"

"Oh, yes; I went to school for some years. I wish I could go again."

"Perhaps you will go to school with me."

"I can't tell," answered Ernest, vaguely. "Perhaps Juba will go to school with you."

Frank laughed.

"She would look funny going to school," he said.

"What's dat you sayin' 'bout Juba, Ma.s.sa Ernest?" asked the old woman, entering the room.

"I told Frank you might go to school with him."

"Maybe I'd go and take care of him, honey."

"But you wouldn't want to study."

"I wouldn't study nohow. I's a poor, ignorant n.i.g.g.e.r. Never shall know nuffin', I expect."

"Don't you think you could learn to read, Juba?"

"No, I couldn't. It takes white folks to read."

"No, Juba; when I went to school there was a colored boy in my cla.s.s, and he was one of the smartest scholars we had."

"And was he a n.i.g.g.e.r?" asked Juba, interested.

"We didn't call him that, but he was a colored boy. If he could learn to read, I am sure you could."

"It's no use, chile. I'm too old now."

Much as he liked Frank, it was irksome to Ernest to remain all day in the cave. It was imprisonment under pleasant circ.u.mstances, but still imprisonment.

They got through the forenoon somehow, taking dinner at twelve o'clock.

About two o'clock Frank complained of being sleepy.

"You won't mind if I go to sleep for an hour, Ernest?" he said.

"Oh, no," answered Ernest. "I can read, you know."

Since his exploration of the day before, Ernest had been longing to visit once more the same portion of the cave. But he wanted to go alone. He had a hope that through the aperture in the roof he might effect his escape. It would not do to have Frank with him, as this would interfere with his plan. Now the longed-for opportunity was almost at hand.

He took a volume from the book-shelf, and sitting down beside the bed began to read. But his mind was not on the book, though at another time he would have enjoyed it. He watched Frank, and in less than fifteen minutes had the satisfaction of seeing that he was fast asleep.