Kitabı oku: «Bessie among the Mountains», sayfa 5

VI.
THE SUNDAY SCHOOL

WHEN Sunday afternoon came they all met as had been arranged, in the lovely nook the Colonel had chosen for them. The little girls were there with Harry, Fred and Hafed. Bob Porter had asked that he might come too. Mrs. Rush was quite willing, but she feared that such great boys would not care for the simple lessons she taught to Maggie and Bessie. She knew they were all too gentlemanly to interrupt or trouble her; but she thought they might grow tired or think it was like babies' play; so she told them they might go if they did not like it.

But she was quite mistaken, for they all, even Bob, who was the oldest, listened not only with respect and attention, but also with great interest, and joined in the lessons with the best of good will.

Frankie was there too, for he had begged to come, and had been allowed to do so on the promise that he would behave very well and sit still. Sitting still was even harder work for Frankie than it was for Maggie; but he meant to be good and quiet, and would probably have kept his word if he had not been troubled. For by and by they all found that even in this quiet nook they were not to remain undisturbed.

Frankie sat as far as possible from Bob, with whom he was much displeased, though he had no good reason to be so. A short time before this, the little ones had all been playing on the grass in front of the house, while the grown people sat upon the piazza. It would have been thought that it was not easy for any one of them to get into mischief or danger with so many to watch them; but Frankie had a way of doing this which was quite surprising. Never was such a fellow for climbing as that Frankie, and his neck was in danger half a dozen times a day, in spite of all the care that could be taken. His mother's eye had been off of him for scarcely two minutes, when she was startled by hearing Maggie say in a terrified voice, "Oh, mamma, do come to Frankie!"

At the side of the house, and just beyond the end of the piazza stood the old well, which supplied them with fresh, cool water. There was a high stone curb around it through which ran a wooden spout, which carried off any waste water which might be poured from the bucket. This spout was partly outside, partly inside the well, and sloped towards the ground. The children, who wanted a drink, had run around to the well, and were waiting for some one to come and draw water for them, when Frankie climbed upon the spout, and before his sisters could stop him, perched himself astride the well curb. Mrs. Bradford turned her head at the sound of her little daughter's voice, and saw them both holding Frankie, the one by his skirts, the other by his leg, while the child was struggling in a frantic manner to free himself from their hold. Had he done so, he must surely have fallen into the well. Before any of the startled group upon the piazza could reach him, Bob Porter darted from the kitchen door, and snatching the child from the well curb, carried him, still struggling, to his mother. Mrs. Bradford thought it best to punish Frankie, and tying the mischievous little feet together with papa's pocket-handkerchief, she made him sit quiet upon the piazza steps for half an hour. When she let him go, he promised to do so no more but he was not reasonable; and instead of being sorry for his own naughtiness, was angry with Bob, who had carried him to his mother, and who, he thought, had caused him to be punished; and now he would not come near him or speak to him, which amused Bob very much.

When the children had all taken their places, and had done expressing their delight at the pleasant place in which they found themselves, Mrs. Rush opened the school; while the Colonel with his book stretched himself upon the rocks above, until he should be called upon for his accustomed story.

Every child then repeated a hymn, except Hafed, who could not yet master enough English for this, after which Mrs. Rush asked each one for a Bible verse.

"Can you say a pretty verse for me, Frankie?" she asked of the little boy who had just seen a fish throw himself out of the lake, and was eagerly watching for a second glimpse of him.

"Yes'm. Dat's a pollywod, I dess," said Frankie, with his eyes on the water.

"That's a great Bible verse," said Fred, beginning a giggle, in which the other boys could not help joining.

"Hush, Fred," said Mrs. Rush. "What was that nice verse I heard mamma teaching you this morning, Frankie?"

"Suffer 'ittle chillens – dat is a pollywod, Fred – suffer 'ittle chillers to tome unto me;" said Frankie.

"And who said that, Frankie?"

"Jesus," answered Frankie, bringing his eyes back from the lake to the face of his teacher, and becoming interested. "Jesus said it, and it means me."

"Yes, it means you, Frankie."

"And Maddie and Bessie," said Frankie.

"And all other little children," said Mrs. Rush.

"Not Bob," said Frankie, with a defiant shake of his head at the big boy, who had to put his hand over his face to hide the smile which would have way.

"Yes, and Bob, too. Jesus meant all children whoever they may be, or wherever they are."

"But Bob is naughty," said Frankie. "He telled mamma to tie my foots."

"Bob is very good, and Frankie must not be angry with him," said Mrs. Rush. "Frankie was naughty himself, and so mamma had to tie his little feet so that he might remember he was not to run into mischief."

"Jesus don't love naughty boys," said Frankie, with another reproving look at Bob.

"Jesus loves all children, the good ones and the naughty ones," said Mrs. Rush. "It makes him sorry when they are naughty and forget what he tells them, but he still loves them, and wants them to come to him and learn to love him, and be sorry for their sins."

"Did Jesus say I was naughty when I wode on the well?" asked Frankie.

"Did you not know mamma did not want you to climb on the well?" said Mrs. Rush.

"Yes'm; mamma said 'don't do by de well,' and I did do dere."

"And Jesus says little boys must mind their mothers; so he was sorry when he saw Frankie disobey his kind mamma."

"Is he sorry wis me now? I not do so any more," said Frankie.

"He is sorry if you are cross, and do not feel pleasant to Bob," answered Mrs. Rush.

Frankie jumped down from his seat, and running over to Bob, put up his rosy lips for a kiss, which the other was quite ready to give.

"Aunt May," said Maggie, "do you think Jesus could love children like Lem and Dolly?"

"He loved them so much that he came to die for them, Maggie. If he did not love them, he would not grieve to see them going so far from him; and to them, too, he says, 'Come unto me,' and stands ready to forgive them, and make them his own little lambs."

"Perhaps they never heard about Jesus, and do not know that he loves them," said Bessie. "I don't believe they have any one to teach them."

"I am afraid not," said Mrs. Rush. "Perhaps some time one of us may find a way to tell them."

"They would not let us speak to them," said Maggie.

"If we could persuade them that we felt kindly to them, they might listen to us," said Mrs. Rush; "at least, we could try."

"But I don't think I do feel kindly to them," said Maggie, "and even if I did, I do not see how we could find the chance to show it."

"I do not say that you will, only that you may find it," said Mrs. Rush; "but if you have a chance and do not take it, it will be a jewel by the way which you will not stoop to pick up that you may carry it to your Father in Heaven."

"And Benito would not have passed it by," said Maggie softly. "We will try to be like him, will we not, Bessie?"

When the proper time came, the Colonel was called upon and came down among the children. His story proved even more interesting than usual; and all, from Mrs. Rush down to Bessie, were so taken up with it, that they were not thinking of Frankie, who for some time sat quiet between his little sisters, busy with the Colonel's pencil-case and a piece of paper, on which he was making scrawls which he called "pollywods." He had seen some pollywogs, or young frogs, in the brook the day before, and his mind had been quite full of them ever since; and he was very anxious to catch one, and have it for his own.

Suddenly all were astonished by a loud sob and a half angry, half frightened "stop dat" from the little boy; and looking at him, they saw him with flushed cheeks, quivering lips, and eyes swimming in tears, gazing up at the bushes which overhung the rocks.

"What is it, dear?" asked Mrs. Rush; and as she spoke Maggie and Bessie both caught sight of a hideous face which thrust itself with a threatening look from among the leaves.

"Somebody bad and ugly, he mates faces at me," said Frankie, with another sob.

"It's Lem; I know it is," said Maggie; "and he is making such horrid faces."

All looked up. No face was to be seen, for it had been drawn back; but at that instant down came a shower of sticks, stones and dried leaves, and the loud, taunting laugh they had heard before, rang out from above.

This was too much for the patience of the boys; even cool-headed, steady-going Harry started to his feet in a rage; and he, Bob and Hafed rushed out of the cleft, while Fred, who still had to move slowly, was only kept from following by the Colonel's express commands.

Colonel Rush was out of patience himself, but he knew it would only make bad worse for the boys to get into a fight; and he would not suffer Fred to go, and called loudly on the others to return.

In the heat of the chase they did not hear him, but he need not have feared. Lem and Dolly had no mind to be caught, and were off before the boys reached the top of the steps. Lem ran like a hare, and was out of sight among the trees in an instant; while Dolly, finding the boys were gaining upon her, threw herself upon the ground when she came to the brow of a steep hill, and rolled over and over until she reached the foot, not heeding the stones which must have hurt and bruised her as she went. This had its droll side, and the three boys stood above and laughed as they watched her, though Harry almost feared she would break her neck. But she reached the bottom in safety, and jumping to her feet with a loud whoop of defiance, darted away among the thick woods of the ravine, and was gone.

When the boys came back, the Colonel and Mrs. Rush tried to have the children all settle down quietly again; but the little ones were uneasy and disturbed, starting at every sound, – the twitter of a bird, the splash of a fish, or the dropping of a leaf, – and the Colonel, seeing this, hastened to bring his story to a close, and take them back to the house.

When Mr. Porter heard of the new trouble at the hands of Lem and Dolly, he said they had no right to be there, for it was his ground, and he should see it did not happen again, for he would not have his boarders disturbed. He told Colonel Rush they had better take the house-dog, old Buffer, with them the next Sunday, and let him watch on the rocks above, so that no one could come near. Buffer was a wise dog, and if put on guard, he would not leave his post till he was told he might; so now the children felt they would be safe in their "Sunday bower," as they called the cleft in the rock.

When Mrs. Bradford went up stairs with her children at their bed time, she always read a chapter from the Bible to Maggie and Bessie, and this night she chose the fifth chapter of Matthew. She had no especial thought of Lem and Dolly Owen when she did so; but as she finished, Maggie said, —

"Mamma, don't you think Lem and Dolly 'despitefully use us, and persecute us?'"

"Yes, dear, I think they do," answered mamma, taking pains not to smile.

"I am sure they do," said Maggie. "I do not know if any one could do it worse; for we never did a thing to them."

"Then you know what you are to do for them," said mamma. "It was our Saviour himself who said these words, 'pray for them which despitefully use you and persecute you.' If we could do nothing else, there is still this left to us."

"And could that be a jewel by the way which we might carry to our Father in heaven, mamma?" asked Maggie.

"Yes, love, indeed it would be," said her mother, thinking as she spoke of Bessie's heartfelt prayer for the miserable children a few nights since, and sure that it would indeed prove a jewel bright and lovely in the eyes of Him to whom it was offered.

Maggie's face looked as if her little head was full of grave thoughts, and she went to bed more soberly than usual, whispering to Bessie as she lay down, —

"We'll take up the jewel of prayer, any way, won't we Bessie?"

Dear little pilgrims! there were jewels in their way such as they did not dream of; but it was only earnest seeking such as theirs which could find them; for they lay hidden beneath many a thorn and bramble and unsightly weed; and they were to be found only by the help of this very jewel of prayer which shone so brightly that its light guided the little feet to the dark places where the hidden gems lay.

VII.
THE SILVER CUP

DAY after day passed by at Chalecoo and each one seemed to bring some new happiness. A book could be filled in telling all the children did in this charming place, of the drives they took in the great rockaway, of their rows upon the lake, of their walks in the lovely woods and glens, and even of one or two wild clambers over the higher rocks where the little girls had to be helped up and down, and Bessie often to be carried in the arms of papa or Uncle Ruthven. Sometimes, however, the grown people and boys went on expeditions which Mrs. Bradford thought too fatiguing, or hard, for her little girls, and they staid at home with grandmamma and Colonel and Mrs. Rush; for the Colonel having, as he said, only one leg he could fairly call his own, did not choose to risk that or his neck, by climbing up and down steep places on the make believe one.

But there were always pleasures enough to be found around the Lake House, and Maggie and Bessie were never at a loss what to do with themselves when they were left behind, and could see these parties go off without a word of murmuring.

Then there were visits now and then to the homestead and Aunt Patty, and on the way there they would stop and ask after Willie Richards and his mother. It was quite surprising to see how both Mrs. Richards and her boy improved in this bracing mountain air. The poor little baby, too, began to grow well and fat, and to look like other babies of its age. It was a great pleasure to Maggie and Bessie to think they had done so much towards bringing all this about.

Now and then Lem and Dolly gave them some trouble, though they were never annoyed by them again in the "Sunday Bower." Mr. Porter and Buffer took good care of that. But the boys had built for their sisters what they called a "Fairy Bower," made by drawing together the top branches of some young alder trees to form a roof, and weaving in branches at the back. This pretty, leafy house was furnished with a table formed of an old mossy stump, and with a couple of small logs for seats, and here the children used to play, as Bessie said with "the greatest cunningness." Here they kept house with their dollies, having acorns for cups and saucers, and bits of flat stone for dishes and plates; and here one afternoon, Miss Margaret Colonel Horace Rush Bradford behaved very badly because her young mamma would not leave her there to spend the night. It would be quite impossible to tell all the trouble the mamma and aunt had in carrying this very naughty child to the house, where she was immediately undressed and put to bed as a punishment for her naughtiness. But she only remained there about ten minutes, for the doctor said she was not very well and prescribed a ride with the rest of the family. Perhaps this same doctor, Uncle Ruthven, knew that her mamma felt lonely without her and wished an excuse for taking her up.

But Margaret Colonel Horace and her mamma both had reason to be glad that she was not left to her own will; for the next morning the "Fairy Bower" was found destroyed, the cups and dishes scattered, the table and seats rolled over the rocks, and the arbor itself rudely pulled to pieces. It was easy to guess who had done this; and if the doll had been left she would have shared the same fate or been carried away.

Another time the boys left quite a fleet of little boats moored near the lower end of the lake, and the next day they also were destroyed. But these, after all, were not very great troubles, and were soon remedied; for another bower was built beneath two tall althea bushes near the house, where no evil disposed person would dare to come; and the boys took care not to leave their boats where they could be meddled with again.

And when the first anger and disappointment had passed over, Maggie and Bessie were more sorry than ever for the poor unhappy children who could take delight in such wanton mischief.

The gardens were coming on finely, and though they were planted so late, by the first of August they looked very green and pretty. The slips of geranium, heliotrope, and verbena had taken root, and were growing nicely, while lady-slippers, petunias, mignonette, and other seed plants had sprung up, and began to spread as if they meant to make up for lost time. Two of the former were the especial pride and delight of the little girls; the one a rose geranium belonging to Maggie. This, though a mere slip when it was set out, had shot up and spread itself around, and thrust out new leaves and buds in such a profuse, hearty, make-the-most-of-it manner, that it was quite a wonder to all who saw it. The other was a heliotrope which had been given to Bessie by her papa, and which also had been little more than a sprig when she first had it; but it was now a flourishing little plant, not running riotous in the way Maggie's geranium did, but fresh and fair, with a cluster or two of delicate, perfumed blossoms, and the promise of more. Upon these two the children bestowed particular care, hoping, and not without reason, that Cousin Alexander would think them each worthy of a prize.

That gentleman used to come up quite often to look at the gardens, for he gave prizes, not only for the fine plants and vegetables, but also for the neatness and order in which the gardens were kept; and he always gave great praise to all five.

Perhaps Maggie and Fred might not have kept their plots in such good order, or worked so perseveringly at weeding, raking, and watering, had it not been for Harry and Bessie, who never forgot to go each day and look at their plants, and never suffered a weed to do more than show the tip of its head above the soil. When anything needed to be done which was too hard for Maggie and Bessie, the boys would help them with it, especially Hafed, who seemed to take more interest in their gardens than in his own, and who would have done all the work for them if they had allowed it.

Frankie had at last gratified his desire of catching a pollywog, and this he did in a manner not quite so pleasant to some of his friends as to himself.

There was a little brook which ran by the side of the house, and joined that which came from the glen, after which they went on together until they emptied into the lake. In this the children were sometimes allowed to play, since it was shallow, and they had great fun there, building little dams, sailing the tiny boats which the boys made for them, or dipping the water out in some small pails mamma had bought for them, and carrying it from place to place. Any little child who has played in such a stream, knows in how many ways it can amuse itself with the bright running water. But the greatest delight of all was a paddle in this same brook; and when mamma thought it best they should not go on some wished-for excursion, this was sometimes granted in its place, and was considered a great treat. It was at one of these times, when Maggie, Bessie, and Frankie were all enjoying themselves as much as three happy children could do; with shoes and stockings off, pattering about with bare feet in the cool, sparkling water, while mamma, grandmamma and Aunt Patty sat with their work upon the piazza, that the little fellow secured his prize. He was stooping to pick up a smooth, round pebble from the bottom of the stream, when he saw a pollywog making its way from beneath a stone which lay half in, half out of the water. In an instant he had pounced upon it, and firmly grasping the wriggling creature, he rushed out of the brook, and running over the grass as fast as his little wet, bare feet could carry him, went up to Aunt Patty, and laying the slimy, muddy reptile on her lap, exclaimed, with an air of great triumph and generosity, —

"Dere, Patty! dere's a pollywod, and I will dive him to oo. Oo may have him for oo own."

To have the pollywog for her own, or to have him any where near her, was the last thing Aunt Patty desired, for she had a great fear of snakes, toads, frogs and such creatures; and now she started back in dismay as the sprawling thing was laid upon her handsome black silk dress.

The poor pollywog was as much frightened as she was, and was, moreover, considerably hurt by the tight clasp of the fat, little hand, and lay kicking and sprawling upon Mrs. Lawrence's lap, till the old lady, rising, threw it upon the ground, where Flossy began to bark at it, and turn it over and over with his nose. Mrs. Bradford and Jane were taken up with rubbing the mud and water from Aunt Patty's dress, and did not notice what he was doing; and the pollywog was in a bad way, between Frankie who was trying to catch it again, and Flossy, when the Colonel and Mrs. Rush came in from a walk; and the Colonel, seeing the poor reptile would never be well again, speedily put him out of his pain.

Frankie was much disturbed at the fate of his pollywog; but the children buried it with great ceremony, which consoled him a little. He wanted to keep it even after it was dead but mamma told him it would become disagreeable; and for some days after this, the family were much amused to see him constantly running to the spot where it was buried, and putting his nose down to the ground to see if his "pollywod smelt bad yet."

Fred laughed as if he would never stop when he heard of this, and humored the joke all he could. He also, for some reason best known to himself, nicknamed his Aunt Annie, "Pollywog;" and once when he went to the city with his father for a day or two, the rogue actually wrote a letter to her and addressed it to

"Miss P. Wog,

Care Thomas Porter,

Chalecoo Lake House."

Mr. Porter, going to the post-office, was given this letter by the postmaster, and did not wish to take it, as he said no "Miss Wog" was living in his house; but the direction was so plainly to the Lake House that he carried it to Mr. Stanton, who was in the carriage, and asked if he had ever heard of any one of that name. Mr. Stanton understood the joke at once, and directed Mr. Porter to give it to his sister, who was highly amused.

Fred was delighted when he heard of the success of his joke, and that Mr. Porter had been completely puzzled.

There was one place of which Maggie and Bessie never tired, and this was of the Ice Glen dairy. To go there each day with Fanny, and see her churn, or skim the rich cream from the milk, or roll the beautiful yellow butter into dainty little pats for the table; or, to have the butter spaddles put into their own hands, and help Fanny in this last piece of work; or sometimes even to pack the butter down into the great stone pots, – all these were pleasures which never lost their charm.

Bessie had a very handsome silver cup which had been given to her when she was a baby by her Aunt Bessie, for whom she was named. Of this cup she was very fond, and before she could speak plain would take her drink from nothing else; and she had never lost her fancy for it. Mrs. Bradford wished Bessie to drink plenty of milk, for she thought it would make her well and strong, and the little girl herself thought it a medicine that was not bad to take. So she not only had it every day for her breakfast and supper, but when she went with Fanny to the dairy, she used to take her silver cup with her, and Fanny would fill it with the rich milk which did her so much good.

One morning the little girls had gone as usual to the dairy with Fanny; and first Maggie and Bessie had taken a drink of milk, after which Bessie had washed her cup in the stream which ran through the centre of the little building. There could be no doubt that it was quite clean, since the water was poured in and out of it about a hundred times before she was satisfied. When she had washed it to her mind, she asked Fanny if she and Maggie might make some butter pats. Fanny consented; and when she had furnished them with a bowl of butter and a pair of spaddles apiece, Bessie handed her the cup, and Fanny set it upon the shelf that ran around the room. Now, this shelf was just on a level with a small window at the back of the dairy. The window stood open and looked out upon three or four great boulders, or masses of rock which lay piled one on top of another just behind the dairy, and were overhung with fir and pine trees.

Flossy had been lying with his nose on his paws, sleepily watching his little mistresses at their play; but soon he suddenly started up with an angry bark, and was about to rush out of the dairy as if he were going to give chase to something, when Maggie caught him up.

"No, no, Flossy," she said, "you are not going after those poor little rabbits again. No, no, sir; be quiet; I shall not let you go, so you need not struggle so, or be so angry. There, that's a good Flossy."

But Flossy was not good, or at least, would not be quiet, and for a moment continued to struggle to free himself from Maggie's hold, and to give short, sharp barks as if he were displeased.

"It's not the rabbits he's after when he barks that way," said Fannie. "He thinks he has seen or heard somebody about;" and, going to the door, she looked around, up the glen and down the path leading to the house. "There's no one here," she said. "What ails you, little doggie? Did you think you heard some one who had no right to be here?"

At last Flossy was persuaded to be quiet, with the exception of a low grumbling "woof" now and then, as if he still thought his wrongs too great to be borne; and the children returned to their butter.

"Oh, Fannie," said Bessie, "you forgot to give us anything to put our butter rolls in when they are made."

"So I did," said Fanny; "and here are my hands in this cream cheese, and I cannot reach a bowl for you. See, take this milk pan that stands on the floor, Maggie. It is rather large, to be sure, but it will do for this time; and there is a dipper to pour the water in it."

"Bring the dipper for yourself, and give me my cup for myself," said Bessie, "and then we can both dip the water."

Maggie brought the pan and the dipper, and then went for the silver cup, but it was not where she expected to find it.

"Why Fanny," she said, "where's Bessie's cup? I thought you put it right here."

"So I did," said Fanny. "I stood it just there by the window."

"It's not there now," said Maggie, standing on tip-toe that she might see over the shelf.

"It must be, child; no one has been here to touch it," said Fanny, leaving her cream cheese and coming to see for herself. "Why, where can it be? I certainly put it just here, opposite the window, but not so near that it need have fallen out. But we'll go round and look."

And out all three went, going round to the back of the dairy, and hunting among the stones and bushes there.

"No, it is not here," said Fannie; "and I didn't see how it could have fallen out without hands to help it. Oh!" as her quick eye, trained to notice the smallest sign, or change which took place in this mountain country, saw where the moss upon the grey rocks had been torn off as though some one had slid over it. "Oh, some one has been here. Oh, Flossy did not bark for nothing. Some one has been here behind the rocks, and when my back was turned, has climbed over, and snatched the cup. What shall I do?"

And Fanny turned first red, then white, fearing that she might be blamed for the loss of the cup; then scrambled upon the rocks to see if she could find any trace of the thief. Two figures were in sight; the one that of a man with a pack on his back, who was trudging along the road between the mountain and the lake, going as if he were in a hurry too; the other that of a boy who was climbing up the steep and rugged path which led to the "Chief's Head."

Fanny took little notice of the former, though he was the nearer of the two; but shading her eyes with her hand, gazed up the mountain side after the boy.

"It's Lem Owen," she exclaimed in an excited tone. "I might have known it. He has taken it. There's nobody else hereabouts who would do such a thing."

Distressed at the loss of her beloved cup, startled at the thought that Lem had been so near them, and still more frightened by Fanny's excitement, Bessie burst into a loud passionate cry.

"Oh! make him give it back," she said. "It's mine; it's my very own cup that Aunt Bessie gave me. I will have it; the bad, bad boy. Oh! make him give it back, Fanny."

Maggie threw her arms about her, and she, too, burst into tears.

"Come, we'll send some one after him," said Fanny, springing down from the rocks and forgetting her open dairy; leaving butter, cream cheese, all, just as it stood, she seized a hand of each frightened child, and they ran towards the house as fast as Bessie's small feet could go.

Mrs. Bradford was not a little startled when they rushed in upon her, all three excited and out of breath; and Bessie sprang into her arms with another outbreak of cries and exclamations.

As soon as they discovered the cause of the trouble, Mr. Bradford, Mr. Stanton, and Mr. Porter's oldest son started for the "Chief's Head" to see if they could find the supposed thief and recover the lost cup.