Kitabı oku: «Bertie and the Gardeners: or, The Way to be Happy», sayfa 2
CHAPTER III.
THE MERRY GARDENER
Mrs. Dodge was the widow of a clergyman. At her husband's death she was left destitute; and until Albert was able to labor for her support, she kept school, filling up every moment out of school hours, in sewing for the slop-shops.
In this way she injured her health, and her son insisted she should hire a couple of rooms, take his sister from an uncle's where she was not happy, and keep house for him.
Her health was now entirely restored, and she had resolved to advertise for a situation as housekeeper, and thus relieve her son of the burden of her own and her daughter's support.
The longer Mrs. Curtis knew Mrs. Dodge, the better she was convinced that she was exactly the person to relieve her of her household care.
They sent to the city for Nelly the daughter, and found she was old enough to be of service as a chamber girl. Nancy was to retain her old place as nurse, so that only a cook was needed to make the corps complete.
It was not long before Albert was able to return to the city. He was delighted that his mother and sister were provided for, and kept Mr. and Mrs. Taylor laughing from morning till night; and yet Mr. Curtis suspected there was something on his mind that troubled him.
The night before he was to leave he requested an interview with the Squire, when with some embarrassment he said:
"Bertie told me to-day that you were looking for a gardener. If I can fit myself for the business by next spring, will you let me try it?"
"Do you know any thing about flowers?"
"I worked one winter for a gentleman who cultivated flowers and fruit for sale. He had violets and carnation-pinks and roses, and in other houses he had strawberries and mushrooms, and lettuce. I think as far as I went I learned the business thoroughly."
"Capital! and do you understand about laying out grounds? I mean small plats for flowers."
"I can't say, sir, how I should please you or the lady; but I could draw you a plan of what I've been wanting to see in front of the house. Perhaps you could judge something by that."
Mr. Curtis sat thinking for a time, and then Albert said with his old, merry twinkle:
"I'd like first rate to work for you, Squire; and I suppose mother would like to have me where she can look after me a little. I needn't promise, I'd try to do my best, for you know that already. I'd work for considerable less wages for the sake of being near Bertie."
"But your Mission School! what will become of that?"
Albert's face grew serious. "That's the only thing I regret, in leaving the city," he said. "There's so much to be done for the poor children wandering about the streets, I am sorry to leave my school; but the doctor says my life depends on quitting my present business."
As Mr. Curtis still seemed absorbed in thought, the young man added presently: "If you give me any encouragement I shall go back to Hantz where I once worked. Before you would need me in the spring I could learn something if I tried."
"Does Bertie know of your wish?"
"No, sir, I was afraid you'd consent to try me just to please him; and I want you to feel yourself that I'm worth trying."
This was said with a laugh.
"Well," answered the gentleman, "I'll think of it, and possibly I may give you an answer in the morning. But, as you are going to leave the city, you mustn't give up trying to do good. Workmen are needed in the country as well as the city."
It was Mr. Curtis' intention to move into his new house the first week in November. Upholsterers were already engaged inside in fitting carpets, and making ready for the furniture to be removed from their city home.
Mrs. Dodge, therefore, was going to give up her rooms, sell her plain furniture, and be ready to return as soon as possible. She knew nothing of her son's application to Mr. Curtis and felt considerable anxiety on his account. Her delight, therefore, may be imagined when after they were seated in the cars on their return to the city he informed her that the Squire had engaged him for a gardener, and thus they would all be together once more.
CHAPTER IV.
VISITORS TO WOODLAWN
I suppose some of my young readers will be glad to know that Torrey recovered entirely from his accident, and had returned to his painting in the city. Perhaps there was no one of the workmen, aside from the Allens, who parted with Bertie with so much regret as he did, for there was no one who owed him so much for his kindness.
When the little fellow called to bid him good-by and to send a book by Mrs. Torrey to Edgar, the man caught his hand, exclaiming:
"I'm getting to like all children for your sake. At any rate nobody will ever hear me say again that children are a bother."
"Tell Edgar, please," urged the boy, "that I'm so glad to hear he is patient; and that the doctors think there is hope he will be well. Papa says he can stay there as long as he wishes, without any pay. I mean to ask Miss Lerow to go with me and see him when I'm in the city next time."
Mrs. Torrey promised to go to the girls' ward the first time she visited Edgar and ask for Susy Hunt and the tame linnet. The bird had arrived safely at the Hospital and proved a great amusement to the patients. Miss Lerow wrote a short note in answer, which I shall copy.
"Dear Bertie: – This morning when I carried the cage into Mrs. Ayer's ward there was great rejoicing. Susy and Marianne, that bright eyed girl you spoke to near the door, laughed aloud and clapped their hands, and exclaimed:
"'Bertie didn't forget. He did send his bird. Oh, Miss Lerow will you please thank him, and say we like it ever so much!'
"Mrs. Ayers says, 'Tell that blessed little boy I'll take the best care of his linnet. Tell him the cage is hung on the hook where all the children can see it; and the pretty creature is chirping as merrily as if it had always been here.'
"So, my dear little friend, you will be pleased that your self-denying act has given pleasure to so many suffering children, and that they think of you with gratitude. Your friend,
"Carrie Lerow."
One pleasant afternoon Bertie and his sister were riding through the street, when a handsome carriage came slowly toward them.
"There's Whitefoot, and that dear little boy Mr. Carpenter told us about," exclaimed a young girl, who was no other than Emma Blagden.
The donkey trotted on until the two carriages met, when a pleasant voice called out:
"Stop a minute, please. Is your name Herbert Curtis?"
"Yes, ma'am."
"How do you do, Whitefoot?" exclaimed the young girl, springing to the ground and throwing her arms around the donkey's neck.
"Oh, you stupid creature not to know your old mistress!" she went on, as the animal took no notice of her caresses.
"I'm very glad to see you," Bertie began, his eyes sparkling with pleasure. "Will you please go and see mamma?"
"Have you moved into the new house yet," inquired the lady who had asked them to stop.
"No, ma'am. Mamma is over there though; and she would be very glad to see you, and thank you for sending me the bird."
"Oh, yes!" cried Emma. "Where is the linnet? I dare say she'd know me."
"I'm sorry; but I lent my bird to a little girl in the hospital. It does amuse the children there so much to watch it."
"Did you tire of it, then?"
"Oh, no, indeed! I like it dearly; but they have to be in their cots, you know; and it makes them feel better to have something to look at."
"Shall we waive ceremony and call at Woodlawn?" asked the lady of her husband.
"Just as you say," answered the gentleman smiling.
"Well, Bertie, if you think your mamma is not too much engaged, we will call for a few moments. You may drive Whitefoot on, and we will follow."
"Oh, mamma! Mr. Carpenter didn't tell half the beauties of the scenery," exclaimed Emma, gazing from the carriage window; "and we thought that he exaggerated. Only look at the water glistening through the trees; and then the reflection of that weeping willow in the lake is so perfect."
Bertie drove quickly to the front door, and lifting Winnie from her seat, ran into the house to announce the visitors.
It was a pleasant call, though a short one, the only seats being the stairs. Then Bertie persuaded his sister to stay with Nancy, who was washing windows; and he took mamma in his donkey carriage and accompanied their new friends over the nicely gravelled road to the lake.
There were a pair of swans, now, which had grown so tame that they would sail up close to the shore and pick up the crumbs the children threw to them.
