Doc taught her how to give a sick
horse a drink out of a bottle without choking him, how to hold his tongue
with one hand and put a pill far down his throat with the other. The
nursing of sick animals seemed to come to her naturally, and she found it
much more interesting than school work and domestic science.
"She's got a way with critters," Doc confided proudly to Miss Stanley.
"I've seen a horse eat out of her hand when it wouldn't touch food in
the manger."
As the months slipped into years, the memory of Calvary Alley grew dim,
and Nance began to look upon herself as an integral part of this
orderly life which stretched away in a pleasant perspective of work and
play. It was the first time that she had ever been tempted to be good,
and she fell. It was not Miss Stanley's way to say "don't." Instead,
she said, "do," and the "do's" became so engrossing that the "don'ts"
were crowded out.
At regular, intervals Mrs. Snawdor made application for her dismissal,
and just as regularly a probation officer visited the Snawdor flat and
pronounced it unfit.
"I suppose if I had a phoneygraf an' lace curtains you'd let her come
home," Mrs. Snawdor observed caustically during one of these inspections.
"You bet I'll fix things up next time if I know you are comin'!"
The State was doing its clumsy best to make up to Nance for what she had
missed. It was giving her free board, free tuition, and protection from
harmful influences. But that did not begin to square the State's account,
nor the account of society.
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