CHAPTER X.
A GREAT SECRET.
There was no person in the whole village kinder, or more considerate to those in trouble, than Capt. Clark. He owned several large ships and part of the mill where Mose worked. He was formerly a sea-captain, but now he lived at home with his aged mother, for he had no family of his own. When he heard how much trouble Hesper had with her two brothers, he offered to employ them on his farm during the harvest.
One Saturday night, just as the full moon was rising above the hills, Fred and Charlie finished their day’s work, and were about to return home. Capt. Clark called the boys into the great store room, and told them to fill their handkerchiefs with apples and corn.
“Now boys,” said he, “you have worked well, and I am very much pleased. Here is a new silver dollar for each of you, and when you go home, tell Hesper that I say you have behaved like men.” It seemed to the boys as though they could feel themselves grow taller that very minute. Their hearts really did expand, as they thought that they had been doing something useful, for which they were justly praised and rewarded. “I never felt so happy in all my life,” said Fred, as they trudged along towards home, with their stout oaken sticks over their shoulders, to which they had attached their bundles.
“Nor I, either,” replied Charlie. “Only think, Fred? Two great silver dollars! What shall we do with them? We can buy a whole lot of ducks, and have a pond of our own.”
“Yes,” said Fred, “and some more rabbits.”
“No!” exclaimed both boys at once, “Hesper’s frock! O, now we can do it!”
“I don’t know how we shall manage about buying it though,” said Fred, “for I am sure I don’t know how, and if we tell Hesper, she won’t let us do anything about it.”
“Can’t we ask aunt Nyna?” suggested Charlie.
“Just the very one!” replied Fred, “and here we are, close by. Let’s go in now”—and both boys started upon a run, up the lane that led to the cottage.
The good lady was very much surprised as she sat at her tea table, to see these two little fellows come marching in with their sticks and bundles.
“Whither now, my young travellers?” she said. “Have ye come to bid me good bye?”
“No,” replied Fred, “we’ve come on business.”
“On business!” she repeated, with a comical look—“well what is it?” Fred laid the silver dollars on the table.
“There,” said he, “Capt. Clark paid us those for our work. Now we want you to take them and buy Hesper a new dress—a real good one, and have it made in the very prettiest way.”
“Heaven bless ye, darlings!” exclaimed the old lady. “How delighted Hesper will be! Yea, I will go down to the village as soon as possible, to purchase it, and if one of you will manage to bring me her old frock to-night, I will have the dress all finished on Monday.”
“Well,” said Fred, “we will run home directly, and as soon as we get a good chance, one of us will bring you the frock. Good night”—and away they started. When they came in sight of home, they observed George Grimsby standing at the front door, crying and making a great noise. As soon as Fred saw him he thought of the rabbit, and made up his mind to call him a thief. But he remembered what Hesper had said, and changed his purpose; besides, just then he felt too good natured.
“What’s the matter, George?” he said, very kindly.
“None o’yer business!” returned George. “I’ve a right ter cry when I’m a mind ter, without everybody’s askin’ me what’s ther matter.”
“So you have,” said Fred, and he was just about giving him a poke with his stick, when he changed his mind again, and instead of doing so, drew two large apples from his bundle, and held them towards him. George stopped crying and stared at him with open mouth and eyes.
“Don’t you want them?” asked Fred. He put out his hand slowly, still looking Fred in the face. Then he snatched the apples, and turning about, ran through the entry without speaking a word.
“There!” exclaimed Fred, indignantly, “did you ever see such actions! Now I am sorry I gave them to him. I mean to tell Hesper of that.” Mose and Hesper both laughed well when Fred made his complaint.
“I can tell you what made him act so,” said Hesper. “It was because he was ashamed of having answered you thus, and if I am not much mistaken, he will speak very pleasantly the next time he sees you.” While they were talking the matter over, the door was opened a little way, and the lost rabbit hopped into the room. Then the door was quickly closed again.
“There!” said Hesper, “see what your apples have brought you already. How much better that was, than calling him a thief!”
After tea, when there was a good opportunity, Charlie stole up into Hesper’s chamber, and threw her old frock out of the window. As had been previously agreed upon, Fred was below to receive it. Away he went with it to aunt Nyna’s, and was back again before Hesper missed him. It was almost impossible, however, for the boys to keep from letting out the secret. They were constantly whispering together—sly hints were dropped, and finally they were obliged to tell their mother, lest it should prove too much for them. When Hesper missed her old frock and searched the whole house for it, Fred and Charlie had to run out into the yard to keep themselves quiet. Their mother told Hesper not to worry about it, for she had no doubt the frock would come back again. The poor girl couldn’t think what it all meant. Monday morning, the boys stepped into aunt Nyna’s to see how she got along, and they went in again at night, to tell her they had gone home, and now she could come.
“Why don’t you eat your supper?” said Hesper, as they sat whispering over their bread and milk.
“O, we are only talking over a little business,” replied Fred.
Their father was not yet able to work in the mill, but he had been engaged by Capt. Clark to keep his accounts. Now he sat by the fire writing, looking very pale and sober. Mose was there too, studying over his old geography, and their mother, who could sit up a little now and then, occupied the great rocking-chair in the corner. She well understood the feelings of the boys, and smiled often as they gave her expressive glances.
At last the door opened—both boys sprang to their feet—aunt Nyna made her appearance and unrolled the frock.
“Here, Hesper,” said she, “is a nice, warm dress, which two good people sent you. I can’t tell their names, but I hope you will find them out.”
Hesper seemed very much surprised, and the boys dropped under the table. Their father looked up from his writing, and Mose laid down his book.
“There,” he exclaimed, “didn’t you say, Hesper, that when the moon fulled again, the fairies would send you a dress?”
“But, who are the fairies?” said Hesper.
Aunt Nyna pointed under the table. The boys could restrain themselves no longer. They rolled on the floor and laughed till they were tired. When they became quiet, in some measure, aunt Nyna told the whole story, though they kept crying out all the time for her to stop. Hesper’s heart was too full to speak. She slipped away to her chamber, and when she had put on the dress, she went down again. It fitted so nicely and looked so pretty, they could scarce praise it enough. Fred and Charlie were perfectly satisfied with the way they had spent their money.
“Come here, my boys,” said their father, “I want to say to you plainly, that I am proud of you, and whatever befalls me in life, I will always thank God that he has given me such good children.”
CHAPTER XI.
JULIANA.
The story of the two silver dollars was soon known all about the village. Capt. Clark heard of it, and so did aunt Betsey, but she was careful not to say anything. She was so anxious, however, to see the new frock, that she made an excuse to call. She took one of her own flower-pots, containing a beautiful rose-bush in full bloom, and carrying it down, made Hesper a present of it.
Of course Hesper was delighted, for she was very fond of flowers, and when aunt Betsey saw how much real pleasure it gave her, she felt very kindly towards her, and said many things in praise of her good management.
Directly after aunt Betsey had left, the door was slowly opened, and Juliana Grimsby stole into the room. The poor girl acted very awkwardly, and Hesper thought she had never seen her look so ragged and dirty before. Her hair was all in a heap, and, as if conscious of her unattractive appearance, she did not raise her eyes from the floor when she spoke.
“I want something of you, Hesper,” she said, “but I am almost afraid to ask you.”
“O fie,” said Hesper, laughing, “don’t be afraid. What is it?”
“Well, mother said if I would ask you for a bit of your dress, she would try to get me one like it. But I told her you wouldn’t want me to have one from the same piece.”
“Why not?” said Hesper. “It would be just the thing; for then we could see which would keep them whole and clean the longest.”
“Nothing ever keeps whole or clean to our house,” said Juliana, with a doleful look. “I’ve got tired living so, for my part. You can’t think how much ashamed I feel when I peep into your room and see it looking so neat and orderly, while our house is nothing but dirt from one end to the other.”
“Can’t you get a chance to clear up a little, while Tommy is asleep,” asked Hesper.
“Clear up!” repeated Juliana, “just look here!” and she threw open the door of the room, “Did you ever see such a sight?”
The breakfast table was standing in the middle of the floor, covered with dishes and broken victuals. The beds were unmade, and dirt, and grease, and cobwebs, met the eye wherever one looked. Old shoes, and chips, and oyster shells, were strewn about the floor, and the chairs were loaded with garments of every description.
“There,” said Juliana, “isn’t that enough to discourage anybody? Mother calls me a real do-nothing, and so do all the neighbors, but I won’t try to be any better, for it’s no use. If I could only run away from this house and live among decent people, I should be as neat as anybody, but now all I can do is, to take care of the baby, and quarrel with the boys.”
The poor girl actually shed tears at her miserable condition.
“I don’t know as you will like it,” she continued, “but I feel, now I have begun, that I want to tell you all. I have seen the time, Hesper Greyson, when I actually hated you, because I knew you were better than myself; and at the same time I tried to be like you. But I couldn’t, for mother and all of ‘em were against me, so I gave it up and was ten times worse than ever. What would you do if you were in my place?”
“I would never give up,” said Hesper, “so long as I was able to pick up a chip, or handle a broom. I would begin now.” Juliana looked round despairingly, and shook her head.
“It’s no use,” said she. “I might as well undertake to clear up the duck-pond.”
“Try,” said Hesper. “Try, and I will help you.”
“I’ve almost a mind to,” replied Juliana, as she caught a little of the hopeful, persevering spirit of her friend.
“Well,” said Hesper, “you put on some water to heat, while I run up and change my dress”. It was not many minutes before she was back again. While the water was heating, Juliana cleared away the table and made the beds, and Hesper swept the floor. She brushed the cobwebs from the windows and walls, and cleared out every nook and corner where the dust had not been started for months. Then Juliana began to wash the dishes, while Hesper took some water and cleaned the windows. It made a wonderful difference in the appearance of the room—a whole flood of sunshine seemed to come in at once. When this was done, they got a great tub of water, and both together began to scour the floor. It was really astonishing when one part was finished, to see how it contrasted with the other.
“I wouldn’t have believed it,” said Juliana. “It certainly looks enough better to pay us for the trouble!” Before they had finished, they heard a great noise in the entry.
“There are the boys!” exclaimed Juliana. “Isn’t it too bad! but they shan’t come in.” She sprang up, and pushing the door together quickly, turned the key. The boys commenced kicking and pounding with all their might, while Juliana scolded. This waked up Tommy and he began to cry.
“O dear!” whimpered Juliana, “I knew it would be so. I wish I hadn’t begun.”
“Don’t be discouraged,” said Hesper, “but let the boys in.”
“No, no,” sobbed Juliana, “they will spoil everything if I do. I know ‘em too well.”
“Let me,” said Hesper. She opened the door very gently, and the two boys were about to rush in, but when they saw Hesper, they stopped.
“Be very careful,” she said, “for we are washing up the floor, and want it to look nice. Little Tommy has just waked up, and if you will take care of him, it will help us very much.”
“I don’t want ter take care o’ Tommy,” said George, with a dogged look—“and what’s more, I wont.”
“Well, then,” said Hesper, “perhaps you and Benny would like to take the pail and get us some more water.”
“No; we wont do that nuther,” replied George, “for I don’t want to have it clean.” He twisted the buttons of his jacket as he spoke, and pouted out his lips in a very unbecoming manner. Hesper was puzzled. She stopped to think one moment; then she laid her hand on his shoulder, and stooping down so that she could look into his eyes, she said with a pleasant smile—
“Please, George, wont you get us some water? We want to have it all clean here to-night when your mother comes home, and make her wonder how it was done. Then, too, I will give you and Benny some corn to parch this evening, and you can have a nice time.” George glanced up to Hesper’s face and half smiled; she put the pail into his hand and away they went. When they came back, they sat the pail down by the door, and stood without.
“Can’t we carry Tommy out to see the ducks?” asked George.
“Yes, if you please,” said Hesper. She put on the baby’s hood, and after wrapping him up in his cradle quilt, laid him into George’s arms, who carried him very carefully into the yard.
“There!” said Juliana, “I call that a complete victory! and I see how it was gained, but I am sure I never should have the patience to do so myself.”
“O, you would soon learn,” said Hesper, “and you would find that it saved a great deal of trouble in the end.” After this, the girls went on working and chatting together, till they became very social and friendly. Juliana opened her whole heart to Hesper; and Hesper, in return, wondered they had never been so well acquainted before. It was almost night before they finished, but then the work was not only done, but done well. The boys had been very obliging; they brought several pails of water, and took care of Tommy all the time. Moreover, they became gradually very much interested in the work, and when all was finished, they confessed that it looked a great deal better. Last of all, Juliana gave her own face and hands a good washing, which they greatly needed. Then Hesper combed out her long, beautiful black hair, and after braiding it, she tied it up behind with some bits of blue ribbon. When the boys saw this, they were determined not to be outdone. They carried a great basin of water and some soap out into the yard, and scrubbed their faces and hands with all their might. It was quite a novelty to the Grimsby family to be so clean, and they seemed to enjoy it highly.
“There!” said Hesper, after they had spread the table for supper, “I think I will go now, as there is nothing more to do,” and she looked about the room with perfect satisfaction. There was a clean cloth upon the table that night—the knives and forks had been scoured, and the teapot, which set upon the stove, shone like new silver. The fire burned briskly, and little Tommy was asleep in his cradle. As Hesper turned away, she felt that a good work had been begun, and was quite confident that it would not end here. Not long after her return home, there came a low tap at the door. She opened it, and there stood Juliana.
“O Hesper!” said she, “you can’t think how pleased mother is! She has gone now to get my new dress. Father has sent us some money from California, and she says we shall all have better clothes. I am dreadfully tired, but O, I am so happy! and I can’t tell you how much I love you,” She threw her arms around Hesper’s neck, and laying her head upon her bosom, wept like a child.
CHAPTER XII.
NEW PROSPECTS FOR MOSE.
One delightful afternoon in the time usually known as “Indian summer,” Hesper thought she would take simple Johnny out for a walk. They went up over the hills, and away down past Capt. Clark’s corn-field, to the great barn beyond, where Fred and Charlie were still at work. When they saw Johnny with her, they begged her to let him stay until they came home at night, so she left him and went away into the woods beyond the Rolling Mill. She walked along the borders of the stream, gathering here and there the bright colored autumn leaves, which seemed to be more brilliant and beautiful than ever. As she climbed up to the top of an old rock, which jutted out into the pathway, to gather a few leaves of a bright scarlet color, she heard the sound of voices, and looking down upon the other side, saw Capt. Clark and Mose talking together. They observed her at the same moment, and called her to come down. Capt. Clark rose up quickly, and put up his strong arm to help her.
“Come, Hesper,” said he, “you are certainly a good little fairy, for you are always near when most wanted. I am laying a plan to get your brother away from you, and I know when you come to hear it, you will have too much good sense to say no.”
She sat down by Mose and looked him in the face. He seemed both glad and sorry. His old geography was open in his hand.
“Hesper,” said he, “you told me the Lord would help me, and now your words are about to prove true.”
“Why!” she exclaimed, “are you really going to sea?”
He smiled and looked towards Capt. Clark.
“Well,” said the Captain, “he thinks he shall, if Hesper is willing.”
“If I am willing!”
“Yes, Mose says that if every one else gives their consent, and you are unhappy about it, he will not go.”
“Why Mose!” said Hesper, “I thought you knew me better.”
“You never think of yourself,” said Mose, “but when I think of father’s poor health and mother’s sickness, and the children to take care of through this long winter, I feel as though I ought not to go, for then all the burden and care will rest upon you, and though you are a patient little thing you are not able to bear it.”
“Never mind that, Mose, if you have a good chance, don’t lose it. Leave all the rest with the Lord.”
Capt. Clark turned his face towards the stream as she said this. If any one had been watching him they would have seen him brush away a tear. He was a very benevolent man, and he always said, that there was something in the love which this brother and sister bore one another, that touched his heart.
“Hesper,” said he, “you are right. Tell him to go—it will be both for his health and interest, and you can safely trust to the Lord for the rest. I can also assure you, that as far as I am concerned, you have one friend who will never see you suffer. Now I will leave you to talk the subject over together.” And he walked away down the path, towards the mill.
“Well,” said Mose, “now for my story. Capt. Clark has talked with me very often of late. He said he thought I was working too hard, and asked me if there was anything else I would rather do. I did not tell him for some time, because I had tried to forget it myself and be patient; but to-day he found me poring over my old geography, and then he asked me how I would like to visit foreign countries. Before I thought, I told him all, and he said I should go to sea if I wished—that his new ship would be ready in the course of a few weeks, and if I decided to go, he would ensure me an easy place and good wages. O Hesper! it made my heart leap right up within me; but then I remembered I had not a cent to fit myself out with, and therefore I could not answer him.”
“What is the matter, Mose?” said he, “I should think you would be right glad of such a chance.”
“I was ashamed to let him know how poor we were, but he questioned me so closely, and when he found out the cause of my silence, he told me he would let me have all I needed and right welcome. Now, Hesper, what shall I do?”
“Go!” said she, “go, Mose.” The tears stood in her eyes and her voice trembled as she spoke. “We shall miss you very much, and I, most of all, Mose, for you and I know each other’s hearts and our thoughts are very nearly the same, so it will be hard parting, but if it wasn’t the best thing for both of us, the Lord wouldn’t have so ordered it.”
“It will be a long time that I shall be away, Hesper, and I am afraid that when I mention it to father, he will set his foot right down, and shake his head, and there will be an end of it.”
“O dear,” said Hesper, “I had forgotten him. It will be just as he takes a notion. How I wish he could see things as we do. But he must always look on the dark side. How shall we manage to tell him, Mose?”
They were silent for a few moments.
“Hesper,” said Mose at last, “the more I think about it, the more certain am I that father will not let me go. Every cent I have earned, has gone to support the family, and now, while his foot is still so lame, I don’t see how he can do without me. We had best give it up where it is, and say nothing more about it.”
“No,” said Hesper. “Don’t give it up, Mose. Let’s try at any rate. I will send the children to bed early, and then, while mother is asleep, you can ask him.”
“Well,” said Mose, “I don’t think it will be of much use, but I wont have it said that I gave up without trying. I must go back to the mill now. Mr. Brown gave me leave of an hour’s absence, while they were repairing the machinery, so I came here to rest me.”
That night, when all was quiet, Hesper took her work and sat down by the fire, while Mose bent studiously over his old geography. Their father sat by the table writing as usual, and their mother was asleep. Not a word was spoken for a long time. At last the clock struck eight and Mose looked up as if a thought had suddenly occurred to him.
“Father,” said he, “if I could get a first rate chance to go to sea, should you be willing?”
“What!” said his father, dropping his pen and looking him full in the face.
Mose repeated his question.
“Do you know of any such chance?” asked his father.
“Yes sir.” And then Mose told his whole conversation with Capt. Clark. He waited for his father to reply, but he did not. Mr. Greyson silently reached up for his hat, took his cane and went out. Hesper was so disappointed she could not speak. Mose thrust his old geography into his pocket with a vexed and angry movement.
“There!” said he, “I might have known it would be so! How foolish I was ever to have hoped for anything better! Now all I have to do is to go back to the mill again, and work like a slave till it kills me, which will not take long, and the sooner I die the better.”
He spoke bitterly, for he was sadly disappointed.
“Mose! Mose!” said a gentle voice. He turned and saw that his mother had risen from her pillow, and was resting upon one arm. The striking of the clock awoke her, and she had heard all. Just then, as the light shone upon her face, showing the smooth black hair parted on her white forehead, and her large dark eyes in which there was such tender sadness, she looked very beautiful. Mose went, and kneeling down beside her bed, hid his face in her pillow. She laid her hand gently on his head.
“Don’t be discouraged my poor boy,” said she. “The greater the trouble, the nearer is God, and I know that He will aid you if you do not despair.”
Her low sweet voice and gentle touch, was like oil upon the troubled waves, and though the poor boy’s frame shook with emotions which were hard to control, yet beneath her soothing influence, he at length became calm. When the first bitterness of his disappointment had passed, he raised his face, and kissing his mother’s pale cheek with all that affection which had strengthened and deepened from his childhood, he went back to his reading. It was nearly an hour before their father returned. Mose and Hesper were still sitting by the fire. He did not tell them that he had seen Capt. Clark, but he had been with him all the time.
“Hesper,” said he abruptly, “are you willing that Mose should go to sea?”
“Yes sir;” she replied meekly and without hesitation.
“Do you consider, at the same time,” he asked, “that the work will be harder and heavier for you—that there will be more care, and one the less to labor?”
“Yes sir; but I am willing to do and bear any thing if he can only go, for it will certainly kill him if he works in the mill much longer.”
“But,” he continued, “supposing that your mother should be worse—perhaps die, and I should be taken sick, what would become of us then?”
Hesper’s eyes filled with tears and her lips quivered—“I don’t know sir,” said she, “but I think the Lord would care for us.”
“Poor, simple child!” said her father—“there are a great many people left to the care of the Lord, who perish miserably. Think of the fathers, and mothers, and little children, who die for want of bread, and of the wretched beings in our great cities, with scarce a mouthful of food and no shelter from the heat of summer, or the piercing cold of winter. Does the Lord care for them?”
Hesper was silent a few moments, and then a great thought stirred her heart, sending the blood to her cheeks, and the brightness to her eyes.
“I don’t know sir,” said she, “why such dreadful things happen, but I do know that when I have said the Lord would help me, and have given all up to Him that He always has. I would not like to starve, but if I should, I would try to be patient, for God alone knows what is best.”
Her father looked at her in astonishment. He did not speak, but he leaned his face upon his hands. He thought of the time when he was a little child and went with his father to the church. Heaven seemed very near him then, and God both good and great. Hesper’s simple words had touched his better feelings. He longed to be a child once more, and feel that confidence in the heavenly Father’s love, which he had once known. When he spoke again his manner was greatly changed.
“Mose,” said he, “if you want to go to sea, I am perfectly willing. You have a first rate chance, and ought to improve it.”
CHAPTER XIII.
A BUSY TIME.
A few mornings after this conversation, Mrs. Grimsby made her appearance in Hesper’s room. She had been listening for some time, and as soon as she heard Mr. Greyson leave, she took her hands out of the wash-tub, and came in with her arms all smoking.
“So,” she commenced, “I hear that Mose is going to sea. I shouldn’t have known it if one of the neighbors hadn’t told me. It’s rather strange, living in the same house, and doing all I can to be friendly, that everything should be kept so private. If I had been aunt Nyna, or Capt. Clark’s mother, or some of those people who set themselves up so, perhaps it would have been different. But I don’t know as I care—I am certain of one thing, that I am an honest woman, and the time will come when I shall have the place I deserve.”
“O,” said Hesper, with a smile, “I thought several times about coming in to tell you but I have been so busy with getting things ready for Mose, and finding out what he needed, that I really had no chance.”
“Well,” said Mrs. Grimsby, “if you had only come in and asked me, I could have told you all about it, for I fitted out my husband for California all myself. But howsomever, I shan’t offer my services. I know better than to throw away my good will upon those that don’t know how to prize it.”
Hesper did not answer, so Mrs. Grimsby made bold to walk about the room, examine everything, and ask a great many questions.
“Well,” said she at last, after she had opened the door, and was just ready to step out. “I thought I would just drop in and tell you, that if you wanted anything of me, you will find me ready and willing, even though I should stay at home from my work to help you”—and she shut the door before Hesper could have a chance to thank her.
As soon as she was gone, Hesper arose and put her handkerchief over her head to run up to aunt Betsey’s. There was so much to be done for Mose, that it was quite impossible for her to attend to it all. She had good judgment for one so young, but she lacked experience, and even now, her head ached with thinking and her eyes with weariness. Aunt Nyna was doing all she could for her, but even this was not enough. The time was short, another pair of hands was greatly needed, and Hesper resolved at last to apply to aunt Betsey. She went in very doubtfully, and found her sewing as usual upon her bed-quilt. It didn’t seem to grow very fast, with all her labor. Hesper sat down beside her. Snip, snip, snip, went aunt Betsey’s scissors, as she cut out a fresh supply of diamonds from the bits of satin, and then she began to stitch away again with all her might. They talked upon various subjects for some time, till at last Hesper summoned courage to ask her.
“Mercy me!” said aunt Betsey, “I don’t see how it will be possible! I am in such a hurry! I declare, I am obliged to work night and day! Why don’t you hire some one?”
“We don’t know of any one,” said Hesper, “even if we could afford to.”
“Well,” said aunt Betsey, “what, with my housework, and my bed-quilt, and the things I have to attend to, and all the rest, it will be quite out of my power. You must take the will for the deed, and I will make Mose some present which will do quite as well.” Hesper came away greatly disheartened. She wondered how aunt Betsey could be so selfish, and then she thought it was because she had nothing else to care for but herself and her own comfort.
“O dear,” she said, “it is better to be poor and have a warm heart. Maybe if I was in her place, though, that I should be a great deal more selfish.” She went home and seated herself again to her work, resolved to do the best she could without assistance. It was not long before Juliana came in with Tommy in her arms.
“Hesper,” said she, “mother says she thinks I can help you a little, if I try, for I can sew quite fast. I don’t know much about making things, but I can always learn when I have a mind to, and I am sure I would do any thing to help you.” She put Tommy on the floor to play with simple Johnny, and then took her seat by Hesper. She had brought her thimble with her and went to work directly. At first she was awkward, and had to be told a great many things, but she soon learned, and then was quicker with her needle than Hesper.
“How strange it is,” said Hesper, “when I get almost discouraged, something always happens to cheer me. Do you know, Juliana, I was just ready to cry when you came in this morning?” The sullen expression which usually hung about Juliana’s face, vanished in a moment, and she looked up with a pleasant smile.
“Hesper,” said she, “I find it the easiest thing in the world to labor for those I love, and if I can do anything to make you love me, it will be all I want.” That night they could scarce believe they had done so much. The work seemed to have grown under their hands without their knowing it, and they had enjoyed every moment. After this, Juliana insisted upon helping Hesper till the work was all finished. Mrs. Grimsby said the reason why she was so willing, was because she thought Hesper a little better than her own folks, and as soon as Tommy was old enough to leave with the boys, she meant to take Juliana out a washing with her.
As Mose was not obliged to work in the mill now, he improved all his leisure time by making himself busy about the house, doing all he could for their comfort and convenience. Uncle Nathan had promised him a load of wood for the family, and Capt. Clark offered to lend him his horse and wagon to go after it, so one pleasant morning he took Fred and Charlie with him, and started for the wood-lot. On their way they met George and Benny Grimsby.
“Jump in,” said Mose, “if you wish to,” and they did not wait for a second invitation. When they came to the wood-lot they went to work with all possible diligence to fill the cart. Mose praised them, and they worked all the faster.
“It is too bad,” said George, who felt very good-natured, “that you are going away so soon, Mose. I like you first rate, and I don’t know what we shall do without you.” Mose laughed.
“George,” said he, “when I am gone, you will be the oldest boy in the house, so you must take good care of the others. Be kind to Hesper, won’t you? and if Fred and Charlie are troublesome, or do anything to vex you, don’t take any notice of them, and they will soon learn better.”
“No,” said George, with great dignity, “we used to quarrel and fight once, but we have given that up long ago.” To be sure, six weeks seemed quite an age to such a boy, but it was no longer ago than that, since the Greysons and Grimsbys had a serious battle, in which the Greysons were severely beaten. Mose had been wanting, for a long time, to get an opportunity to talk with George, and though he placed little confidence in his promises, yet he was glad if he would think about it.
“Now,” said Mose, “if you will be a first rate boy, and do all you can for Hesper, I will bring you home something that will please you.”
George began to wonder immediately what it would be, and he thought it would be no harm to modestly suggest, that he would like either a monkey or a Chinese umbrella—he wasn’t very particular which—but of the two, he should prefer a monkey. After this, the boys followed Mose as closely as his own shadow. They told their mother what he had promised, and asked her if she didn’t think they had best sell their ducks, so as to keep the monkey in the duck-house, but she quite disconcerted them by calling them little simpletons, and telling them they had best wait till they had it. By the untiring industry of Hesper and Juliana, everything was at length made ready. Mrs. Grimsby, out of pure good will, washed all the clothes they made, ironed them neatly, and stowed them away in the chest they were to occupy, but she told all the neighbors of it, and said that she shouldn’t have done it if she could have well helped it. Aunt Nyna made Mose a present of a very nicely bound Bible, and aunt Betsey brought him a large bundle of old newspapers, which she had begged of a neighbor. The night previous to his departure, there came a loud rap at the door, and upon opening it, Mose beheld Mr. Byers’ benevolent countenance.
“Get your hat, my boy,” said he, “and go to walk with me. My heart is full and I want to relieve it.”
Accordingly Mose complied with his request, and they turned their steps towards the sea shore. As they seated themselves on an unfinished spar, Mr. Byers asked if the ship in which Mose was to sail would touch at Canton.
“Yes, I believe so,” replied Mose, “at some time in the course of the voyage, for we are to be gone two years or more, and shall visit several ports.”
“Well, then,” resumed Mr. Byers, “doubtless you will meet with Harry Nyna, and I want you, Mose, to take a sharp observation of that young man, for if I can trust anything to my knowledge of human nature, I should say he was exceedingly progressive.”
“Progressive!” repeated Mose. “Well, why not?”
“Ay, let me tell you, I think a young man is altogether too progressive, when, at the age of seventeen or eighteen, he smokes his cigar in public, drinks brandy behind the barn-door, and plays cards on the hay-mow.”
“What!” said Mose, in astonishment.
“Ay, that’s a fact; and his mother—dear good lady,—never suspected it. She’s just like all the rest of the women—Lord bless ‘em! So good themselves they think everybody else is, and whoever they love, is next kin to perfection.”
“Harry is a good-hearted boy, though” said Mose thoughtfully.
“As good as a ripe October peach with a doubled kernelled pit in it, and generous as summer sunshine. But that is the great difficulty with him. He is too generous to say no, and goes in for a jolly time whenever he can have one. Nevertheless, I love him with all his faults, and really feel a fatherly solicitude for him. Not on his mother’s account, however. O, no, Mose! no! It’s purely for his own sake, although I think Mrs. Dorothy a most excellent woman, and should I ever think of marrying again, I would certainly give her the preference. But, then, that isn’t what I came here to talk about. Mose,” resumed the old man, after a few moment’s silence, “you are to be gone a long time, and perhaps I may never see you again, and possibly I may be dead when you come back.”
“O, I don’t think so,” said Mose.
“Nor I either,” continued Mr. Byers. “I only said possibly, and as I would like to be remembered, I have concluded to give you this;” so saying, he drew a monstrous old silver watch from his pocket, and laid it in the hand of his young friend.
Mose drew back, unwilling to accept of a gift which he knew was of so much value to its possessor, but the old man urged it upon him.
“Take her, Mose,” said he in a husky voice. “She’s a faithful creature, and worth a dozen of the new-fangled concerns they have now-a-days. She’s just what a good woman ought to be, for she has more of inward worth than outward beauty, She never wears any other than a cheerful countenance and always keeps her hands busy. Take her, my boy, I had rather give her to you than any one. Whenever you look at her, think how fast time is travelling on to eternity, and may the Lord teach you to so number your days as to apply your heart to wisdom.”
Mose did take the watch, thanking him most sincerely, for he knew the old man’s feelings would be deeply wounded, should he persist in refusing.
“Now Mose, my boy,” he added, “I am going. You needn’t walk home with me, for my heart is full, and I want to shed a few tears by myself. Good bye, and God bless you.” He seized Mose warmly by the hand, and giving it a hearty shake, he turned away, walked quickly up the sands and disappeared in the darkness.
The morning on which Mose was to take his departure had at length arrived. The “Sea Gull,” as handsome a ship as ever rode the waves, lay at anchor in the harbor below. A fine fresh breeze was blowing, and the boat was waiting at the wharf to take Mose and several others on board. Mr. Greyson’s foot was so much worse that he could not go out, and therefore Mose took leave of his parents at the house. He told his father to keep up a good heart and take the best of care of himself till he came home, and then they should all live more comfortably. But Mr. Greyson shook his head with a most melancholy look and turned away as he faintly said, “Good bye.”
Next Mose kissed his mother, and when she lifted her calm, pale face to his, and said so earnestly—“God bless you, my boy, and keep you from all evil”—he could not restrain the tears that were almost choking him, and he had to wipe his eyes a great many times before he dared make his appearance at the door. Capt Clark was waiting for him with his wagon, to take his sea-chest and other things down to the boat. As the wagon was large, they took Hesper and simple Johnny in, and then Capt. Clark called to Juliana, who stood in the door-way with Tommy in her arms, to come too, which she did with as little delay as possible. When all was ready they drove off, while Fred and Charlie, with the Grimsby boys and Bose, followed behind.
They soon came to the wharf, and Capt. Clark took charge of the baggage, leaving Mose to talk with the friends who had come to see him off. Hesper shivered like a leaf as she stood on the wharf, holding simple Johnny by the hand, for the morning was cold, and her heart was heavy within her. She thought how lonely she should be without Mose, and in spite of herself the tears would roll down her cheeks.
“Don’t cry, Hesper!” he said, cheerfully; but there his own heart failed him, and the choking feeling came again. So he only kissed her and, whispered—“Pray for me every night, sister.” Then he jumped into the boat and they pushed off.
“Stop! stop!” cried some one at the head of the wharf, and looking up, they saw Mrs. Grimsby coming in great haste, with a bundle in her hand.
“Here,” she said, as she tossed it to Mose, “is a little package of medicine which I meant to have given you before. There are old linen rags, and salve, and pills, and powders, and anything else you will want, should you be sick, and if you don’t need them, why some one else may.”
“That’s a wise woman,” cried out the Captain of the ship, who stood in the bow of the boat. “Three cheers for the ladies!” and they all took off their hats and hurrahed, which pleased Mrs. Grimsby very much.
The boys followed the boat down to the end of the wharf, where they waited to see her reach the ship. George made up a sorry face to cry, when suddenly a thought occurred to him.
“Mose!” he called out at the top of his voice, “don’t forget the monkey!” Mose laughed outright—“Don’t forget your promise!” he shouted in reply, and then the boat shot out beyond hearing.
CHAPTER XIV.
AUNT BETSEY UNDER DIFFICULTIES.
Uncle Nathan’s orchard was a long distance from his house, and adjoined aunt Nyna’s garden. When the apples were ripe enough to gather and put up for sale, uncle Nathan employed both the Greysons and Grimsbys, and aunt Betsey came down, of her own accord, to see that the boys did not carry away any, and also to take particular care that they put a good proportion of the small ones into the barrels intended for market. There was quite a high stone wall between the orchard and aunt Nyna’s garden, and close beside this wall, in the garden, grew a famous peach tree. It was a source of great profit to aunt Nyna, for the peaches were very large and luscious, and always commanded a very high price.
One day, during the apple gathering, aunt Betsey stood by the wall and regarded the peach tree with a longing gaze. She glanced down at the wall and then up to the tree, and measured with her eye, as though she was revolving a subject of great importance in her mind.
“Nathan,” said she to her husband, “doesn’t that branch of the tree hang over the wall?”
“Well—yes—a little,” he replied, carelessly.
“Then,” said aunt Betsey, with an eager look, “according to law and common custom, all the peaches on it belong to us, and I wish you would send up one of the boys to gather them.”
“I shan’t do any such thing!” said uncle Nathan, decidedly.
“Well, then,” she replied, “if you won’t, I will; for what’s ours is ours, and I’ll have it at any rate.”
“Indeed you will!” said uncle Nathan in surprise; “I wouldn’t touch one of those peaches for my right hand, and what’s more, I tell you not to.” It was very seldom that he spoke in such an authoritative manner, and therefore aunt Betsey was considerably disconcerted. She said nothing more, but secretly resolved that have the peaches she would, and as it was high time they were gathered, she felt that the sooner she secured her part the better. That afternoon she had the minister and his wife to tea. She put on her best black silk dress, which she had kept very carefully for more than ten years. She also put on her blandest expression of countenance, and talked so piously that the minister and his wife supposed her to be a perfect model of goodness and propriety. It was sometime after nine when her visitors left, and as uncle Nathan was very much fatigued, he retired immediately, leaving aunt Betsey at her sewing.
“Now,” thought she to herself, “as there is such a clear, bright moon, I will just run over and get those peaches.” She took her basket and hastened forth, but had not proceeded far, when she bethought herself that she had on her very best dress. For a few moments she hesitated, and almost made up her mind to go back and change it, but the fear that she should get hindered or discovered, decided her to keep on and risk the consequences. The way was long and lonely, but aunt Betsey was a very resolute woman, and would go through fire and water to accomplish her purpose. Arriving at the orchard, she crossed it very quickly—mounted the stone wall, and laying hold of the branch, had already deposited several of the peaches in her basket, when she heard a fierce growl, and the next moment Bose seized her by the leg.
“Mercy me!” exclaimed aunt Betsey, as she tumbled down on the wall, all in a heap—“O Bose! you dear, good dog! How you frightened me! Let go of me, Bose! do, there’s a good fellow! Oh! Oh! Why, I’m aunt Betsey, don’t you know me!” But just then, Bose seemed to be no respecter of persons, and the only proof he gave of his goodness, was that of letting go of her leg and seizing her by the dress, which he shook fiercely, rending and tearing it in the most shocking manner. Every thread which gave way, seemed to draw right from aunt Betsey’s heart, but there was no helping it. She attempted to conciliate Bose by patting him, but it rather appeared to increase his fury, and to all her terms of affection and endearment, he only answered by significant growls.
“O dear!” she exclaimed at length, “what shall I do! I never saw such a savage, unmanageable brute in my life!” She sat still for some time, and the dog gradually loosened his hold. She felt greatly relieved, and drew up her feet gently to spring from the wall; but the moment she did so, Bose seized her dress in a new place, and tore it most shockingly. Aunt Betsey grew desperate.
“Begone! you villain you!” she exclaimed, as she beat the dog upon his head with her basket. She discovered immediately, however, that this was an altogether mistaken movement, for Bose seized her at once by the arm, and set his teeth so firmly that she cried out with pain.
“O merciful Heaven!” she moaned, “I believe I have done wrong, or I never should be punished so terribly. But O, Lord!” she added devoutly, with uplifted hands—“if thou wilt only bring me out of this difficulty, I never will do the like again.” Even her prayers, though, seemed just then to be unavailing, for the dog would not let her stir an inch. If she remained quiet any length of time, Bose sat down beside her, but the moment she started he seized her again. At one time, she attempted to cry out for assistance, but at this Bose became perfectly furious, and therefore she desisted.
“Well,” said she at length, after she had been sitting upon the wall for about two hours, and saw no prospect whatever of an escape—“I suppose I have got to sit here till morning, and how much longer nobody knows, for this horrid brute acts as if he was possessed. I declare I wish this peach tree had been in Sodom before ever I touched it. What a pretty sight I shall be, going home by broad daylight, with my dress all in tatters!” and she began to cry in good earnest.
The dew and the chilly night air made her shiver, but Bose seemed to resent even the movement that she made to draw her shawl around her.
After sitting quiet for a long time, she heard the village clock strike twelve. Once more she attempted to slip stealthily from the wall, but again she was rudely detained by her watchful sentinel. Moaning and sobbing in utter despair, she concluded to submit, and wait till morning should bring relief.
Suddenly, however, a most alarming sound fell upon her ear. It was the village bells ringing briskly, as if for fire. She bethought herself directly, that in her haste, she had left some blazing brands upon her hearth, and that in consequence perhaps her own house might now be in flames. The thought made her almost distracted, but she dared not make the least movement to depart.
Once more she listened intently, and distinguished a confused sound of voices. Sometimes there appeared to be only a single one, and then to be many. Again they would seem to come near, and then go a great way off. The shouting, also, was not in the least like the cry of fire, and therefore she did not know how to understand it. She began to think, at last, that she had suddenly become deranged, and all this noise and confusion existed only in her imagination. It was not long, however, before she discovered lights glancing among the trees, and soon saw a party of men, with lanterns in their hands, coming through the orchard, directly towards her. Again she began to wonder what all this could mean, when her imagination suggested that some bloody deed had been committed in the village, and now they were out in quest of the perpetrator. A thrill of horror passed over her, and as the men came nearer she ventured to call out to them.
“O, here she is! here she is!” they all shouted at once, as they hastened towards her, and immediately they blew a terrible blast on the fish horns they carried with them, as a signal to others that the object of their search was found. Mr. Byers was the foremost of the group; and in his company were the minister, doctor, lawyer, schoolmaster, two deacons, the town clerk, and the editor of the village paper.
“Why, Mrs. Hastings!” said Mr. Byers, as he held up his lantern and surveyed her—“how came you here?”
“Well,” replied aunt Betsey, trying to put on a fair face before this honorable company—“you see my husband has been putting up his apples, and as he left all the barrels in the orchard, I thought I would just take a run down before I went to bed, to see that all was safe, when the first thing I knew this horrible dog laid hold of me, and has kept me here ever since.”
Mr. Byers held his lantern over the wall. Bose sprang up to him, wagging his tail and looking delighted, as if conscious he had done his duty. Then, seizing aunt Betsey’s basket in his teeth, he shook it with a fierce growl, scattering the few peaches that yet remained in it.
“O, ho!” said Mr. Byers, “it is very easy to see through all this, now that we have a little light on the subject. How happened it, Mrs. Hastings, that the widow’s peaches lodged in your basket?”
“Well, Mr. Byers,” returned aunt Betsey, tartly, “if you must know, I will tell you. Please hold up your lantern, and if you look carefully, you will perceive that one branch of that tree hangs a little over our orchard; therefore all the fruit on it belongs, by good rights, to us. I thought, since I was down here, I might as well take them now as at any time, and I defy all the world to find fault with me. What’s right is right, anyhow, let people say what they will.”
Aunt Betsey had stepped down from the wall, and now stood before them with her dress all in tatters, her arms akimbo, and her head thrust forward, looking the very picture of defiance.
“Woman!” said Mr. Byers, gravely, as he gave her a contemptuous poke with his cane—“I am ashamed of you! you are a disgrace to humanity in general, and your sex in particular. What is legally right is not always morally so; and for you, with your abundance, to steal peaches from a poor widow woman, is, to say the least, a sin in the sight of God, for which you have been justly punished.”
“Friends!” he added in a louder tone, as he turned to the group behind him, which had gradually augmented till the whole population of the village seemed to be present, “this woman is more to be pitied than blamed, for to carry such a narrow contracted heart in the bosom, is the greatest curse that can fall upon any human being, and for the sake of that Christian charity which thinketh no evil, let us hush the matter up as soon as possible.”
“Yes,” said the editor, significantly, “I shall hush it up according to my usual custom. I have a very excellent method of disposing of such matters.”
Aunt Betsey burst into tears. Her husband came up and offered his arm. She took it and walked home, accompanied by such an escort as no woman in the village ever had before. Behind and before her went her neighbors and friends, talking over the matter with perfect freedom; and from their remarks the unhappy woman had not the least reason to doubt, that although they compassionated her sincerely, yet her inconsiderate act met with their unqualified condemnation. From that day (or we should rather say night) forth, aunt Betsey considered herself hopelessly disgraced in the eyes of the whole village, and to the end of her life, the very mention of peaches made her shudder. How true is it, that the ruling passion of one’s nature, however carefully guarded, will at some time or other betray itself.