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authorRoger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org>2025-10-15 04:35:03 -0700
committerRoger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org>2025-10-15 04:35:03 -0700
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+*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 10723 ***
+
+BETTY'S BRIGHT IDEA
+
+also
+
+DEACON PITKIN'S FARM,
+
+and
+
+THE FIRST CHRISTMAS OF NEW ENGLAND.
+
+BY HARRIET BEECHER STOWE.
+
+With Illustrations.
+
+1875.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: The Children in the Churchyard.]
+
+
+
+
+
+
+BETTY'S BRIGHT IDEA.
+
+
+
+"When He ascended up on high, He led captivity captive, and gave gifts
+unto men."--Eph. iv. 8.
+
+Some say that ever, 'gainst that season comes
+Wherein our Saviour's birth is celebrate,
+The bird of dawning singeth all night long.
+And then, they say, no evil spirit walks;
+The nights are wholesome; then no planets strike,
+No fairy takes, no witch hath power to charm,--
+So hallowed and so gracious is the time.
+
+And this holy time, so hallowed and so gracious, was settling down over
+the great roaring, rattling, seething life-world of New York in the good
+year 1875. Who does not feel its on-coming in the shops and streets, in
+the festive air of trade and business, in the thousand garnitures by
+which every store hangs out triumphal banners and solicits you to buy
+something for a Christmas gift? For it is the peculiarity of all this
+array of prints, confectionery, dry goods, and manufactures of all kinds,
+that their bravery and splendor at Christmas tide is all to seduce you
+into generosity, and importune you to give something to others. It says
+to you, "The dear God gave you an unspeakable gift; give you a lesser
+gift to your brother!"
+
+Do we ever think, when we walk those busy, bustling streets, all alive
+with Christmas shoppers, and mingle with the rushing tides that throng
+and jostle through the stores, that unseen spirits may be hastening to
+and fro along those same ways bearing Christ's Christmas gifts to men--
+gifts whose value no earthly gold or gems can represent?
+
+Yet, on this morning of the day before Christmas, were these Shining
+Ones, moving to and fro with the crowd, whose faces were loving and
+serene as the invisible stars, whose robes took no defilement from the
+spatter and the rush of earth, whose coming and going was still as the
+falling snow-flakes. They entered houses without ringing door-bells, they
+passed through apartments without opening doors, and everywhere they were
+bearing Christ's Christmas presents, and silently offering them to
+whoever would open their souls to receive. Like themselves, their gifts
+were invisible--incapable of weight and measurement in gross earthly
+scales. To mourners they carried joy; to weary and perplexed hearts,
+peace; to souls stifling in luxury and self-indulgence they carried that
+noble discontent that rises to aspiration for higher things. Sometimes
+they took away an earthly treasure to make room for a heavenly one. They
+took health, but left resignation and cheerful faith. They took the babe
+from the dear cradle, but left in its place a heart full of pity for the
+suffering on earth and a fellowship with the blessed in heaven. Let us
+follow their footsteps awhile.
+
+
+
+SCENE I.
+
+
+A young girl's boudoir in one of our American palaces of luxury, built
+after the choicest fancy of the architect, and furnished in all the
+latest devices of household decoration. Pictures, statuettes, and every
+form of _bijouterie_ make the room a miracle of beauty, and the little
+princess of all sits in an easy chair before the fire, and thus revolves
+with herself:
+
+"O, dear me! Christmas is a bore! Such a rush and crush in the streets,
+such a jam in the shops, and then _such_ a fuss thinking up presents for
+everybody! All for nothing, too; for nobody Wants anything. I'm sure _I_
+don't. I'm surfeited now with pictures and jewelry, and bon-bon boxes,
+and little china dogs and cats--and all these things that get so thick
+you can't move without upsetting some of them. There's papa, he don't
+want anything. He never uses any of my Christmas presents when I get
+them; and mamma, she has every earthly thing I can think of, and said the
+other day she did hope nobody'd give her any more worsted work! Then Aunt
+Maria and Uncle John, they don't want the things I give them; they have
+more than they know what to do with, now. All the boys say they don't
+want any more cigar cases or slippers, or smoking caps. Oh, dear!"
+
+Here the Shining Ones came and stood over the little lady, and looked
+down on her with faces of pity, which seemed blent with a serene and
+half-amused indulgence. It was a heavenly amusement, such as that with
+which mothers listen to the foolish-wise prattle of children just
+learning to talk.
+
+As the grave, sweet eyes rested tenderly on her, the girl somehow grew
+graver, leaned back in her chair, and sighed a little.
+
+"I wish I knew how to be better!" she said to herself. "I remember last
+Sunday's text, 'It is more blessed to give than to receive.' That must
+mean something! Well, isn't there something, too, in the Bible about not
+giving to your rich neighbors that can give again, but giving to the poor
+that cannot recompense you? I don't know any poor people. Papa says there
+are very few deserving poor people. Well, for the matter of that, there
+aren't many _deserving rich_ people. I, for example, how much do I
+_deserve_ to have all these nice things? I'm no better than the poor
+shop-girls that go trudging by in the cold at six o'clock in the morning--
+ugh! it makes me shiver to think of it. I know if I had to do that _I_
+shouldn't be good at all. Well, I'd like to give to poor people, if I
+knew any."
+
+At this moment the door opened and the maid entered.
+
+"Betty, do you know any poor people I ought to get things for, this
+Christmas?"
+
+"Poor folks is always plenty, miss," said Betty.
+
+"O yes, of course, beggars; but I mean people that I could do something
+for besides just give cold victuals or money. I don't know where to hunt
+them up, and should be afraid to go if I did. O dear! it's no use. I'll
+give it up."
+
+"Why, Miss Florence, that 'ud be too bad, afther bein' that good in yer
+heart, to let the poor folks alone for fear of goin' to them. But ye
+needn't do that, for, now I think of it, there's John Morley's wife."
+
+"What, the gardener father turned off for drinking?"
+
+"The same, miss. Poor boy, he's not so bad, and he's got a wife and two
+as pretty children as ever you see."
+
+"I always liked John," said the young lady. "But papa is so strict about
+some things! He says he never will keep a man a day if he finds out that
+he drinks."
+
+She was quite silent for a minute, and then broke out:
+
+"I don't care; it's a good idea! I say, Betty, do you know where John's
+wife lives?"
+
+"Yes, miss, I've been there often."
+
+"Well, then, this afternoon I'll go with you and see if I can do anything
+for them."
+
+[Decoration]
+
+
+
+SCENE II.
+
+
+An attic room, neat and clean, but poorly furnished; a bed and a trundle-
+bed, a small cooking-stove, a shelf with a few dishes, one or two chairs
+and stools, a pale, thin woman working on a vest.
+
+Her face is anxious; her thin hands tremble with weakness, and now and
+then, as she works, quiet tears drop, which she wipes quickly. Poor
+people cannot afford to shed tears; it takes time and injures eyesight.
+
+This is John Morley's wife. This morning he has risen and gone out in a
+desperate mood. "No use to try," he says. "Didn't I go a whole year and
+never touch a drop? And now just because I fell once I'm kicked out! No
+use to try. When a fellow once trips, everybody gives him a kick. Talk
+about love of Christ! Who believes it? Don't see much love of Christ
+where I go. Your Christians hit a fellow that's down as hard as anybody.
+It's everybody for himself and devil take the hindmost. Well, I'll trudge
+up to the Brooklyn Navy Yard and see if they'll take me on there--if they
+won't I might as well go to sea, or to the devil," and out he flings.
+
+"Mamma!" says a little voice, "what are we going to have for our
+Christmas?"
+
+It is a little girl, with soft curly hair and bright, earnest eyes, that
+speaks.
+
+A sturdy little fellow of four presses up to the mother's knee and
+repeats the question, "Sha'n't we have a Christmas, mother?"
+
+It overcomes the poor woman; she leans forward and breaks into sobbing,--
+a tempest of sorrow, long suppressed, that shakes her weak frame as she
+thinks that her husband is out of work, desperate, discouraged, and
+tempted of the devil, that the rent is falling due, and only the poor pay
+of her needle to meet it with. In one of those quick flashes which
+concentrate through the imagination the sorrows of years, she seems to
+see her little home broken up, her husband in the gutter, her children
+turned into the street. At this moment there goes up from her heart a
+despairing cry, such as a poor, hunted, tired-out creature gives when
+brought to the last gasp of endurance. It was like the shriek of the hare
+when the hounds are upon it. She clasps her hands and cries out, "O my
+God, help me."
+
+There was no voice of any that answered; there was no sound of foot-fall
+on the staircase; no one entered the door; and yet that agonized cry had
+reached the heart it was meant for. The Shining Ones were with her; they
+stood, with faces full of tenderness, beaming down upon her; they brought
+her a Christmas gift from Christ--the gift of trust. She knew not from
+whence came the courage and rest that entered her soul; but while her
+little ones stood wondering and silent, she turned and drew to herself
+her well-worn Bible. Hands that she did not see guided her as she turned
+the pages, and pointed the words: _He shall deliver the needy when he
+crieth; the poor also and him that hath no helper. He shall spare the
+poor and needy, and shall save the souls of the needy. He shall redeem
+their soul from deceit and violence, and precious shall their blood be in
+his sight._
+
+She laid down her poor wan cheek on the merciful old book, as on her
+mother's breast, and gave up all the tangled skein of life into the hands
+of Infinite Pity. There seemed a consoling presence in the room, and her
+tired heart found rest.
+
+She wiped away her tears, kissed her children, and smiled upon them. Then
+she rose, gathered up her finished work, and attired herself to go forth
+and carry it back to the shop.
+
+"Mother," said the children softly, "they are dressing the church, and
+the gates are open, and people are going in and out; mayn't we play there
+by the church?"
+
+The mother looked out on the ivy-grown walls of the church, with its
+flocks of twittering sparrows, and said:
+
+"Yes, my little birds; you may play there if you'll be very good and
+quiet."
+
+The mother had only her small, close attic room for her darlings, and to
+satisfy all their childish desire for variety and motion, she had only
+the refuge of the streets. She was a decent, godly woman, and the bold
+manners and evil words of street vagrants were terrible to her; and so,
+when the church gates were open for daily morning and evening prayers,
+she had often begged the sexton to let her little ones come in and hear
+the singing, and wander hand in hand around the old church walls. He was
+a kindly old man, and the children, stealing round like two still,
+bright-eyed little mice, had gained upon his heart, and he made them
+welcome there. It gave the mother a feeling of protection to have them
+play near the church, as if it were a father's house.
+
+So she put on their little hoods and tippets, and led them forth, and saw
+them into the yard; and as she looked to the old gray church, with its
+rustling ivy bowers and flocks of birds, her heart swelled within her.
+"Yea, the sparrow hath found a house and the swallow a nest where she may
+lay her young, even thine altars, O Lord of hosts, my king and my God!"
+And the Shining Ones walking with her said, "Fear not; ye are of more
+value than many sparrows."
+
+[Decoration]
+
+
+
+SCENE III.
+
+
+The little ones went gayly into the yard. They had been scared by their
+mother's tears; but she had smiled again, and that had made all right
+with them. The sun was shining brightly, and they were on the sunny side
+of the old church, and they laughed and chirped and chittered to each
+other as merrily as the little birds in the ivy boughs.
+
+The old sexton came to the side door and threw out an armful of refuse
+greens, and then stopped a moment and nodded kindly at them.
+
+"May we play with them, please, sir?" said the little Elsie, looking up
+with great reverence.
+
+"Oh, yes, to be sure; these are done with--they are no good now."
+
+"Oh, Tottie!" cried Elsie, rapturously, "just think, he says we may play
+with all these. Why, here's ever and ever so much green, enough to play
+house. Let's play build a house for father and mother."
+
+"I'm going to build a big house for 'em when I grow up," said Tottie,
+"and I mean to have glass bead windows in it."
+
+Tottie had once had presented to him a box of colored glass beads to
+string, and he could think of nothing finer in the future than unlimited
+glass beads.
+
+Meanwhile, his sister began planting pine branches upright in the snow,
+to make her house.
+
+"You see we can make believe there are windows and doors and a roof," she
+said, "and it's just as good. Now, let's make believe there is a bed in
+this corner, and we will lie down to sleep."
+
+And Tottie obediently couched himself in the allotted corner and shut his
+eyes very hard, though after a moment he remarked that the snow got into
+his neck.
+
+"You must play it isn't snow--play it's feathers," said Elsie.
+
+"But I don't like it," persisted Tottie, "it don't feel a bit like
+feathers."
+
+"Oh, well, then," said Elsie, accommodating herself to circumstances,
+"let's play get up now and I'll get breakfast."
+
+Just now the door opened again, and the sexton began sweeping the refuse
+out of the church. There were bits of ivy and holly, and ruffles of
+ground-pine, and lots of bright red berries that came flying forth into
+the yard, and the children screamed for joy. "O Tottie!" "O Elsie!" "Only
+see how many pretty things--lots and lots!"
+
+The sexton stood and looked and laughed as he saw the little ones so
+eager for the scraps and remnants.
+
+"Don't you want to come in and see the church?" he said. "It's all done
+now, and a brave sight it is. You may come in."
+
+They tipped in softly, with large bright, wondering eyes. The light
+through the stained glass windows fell blue and crimson and yellow on the
+pillars all ruffled with ground-pine and brightened with scarlet bitter-
+sweet berries, and there were stars and crosses and mottoes in green all
+through the bowery aisles, while the organist, hid in a thicket of
+verdure, was practicing softly, and sweet voices sung:
+
+"Hark! the herald angels sing
+Glory to the new-born King."
+
+The little ones wandered up and down the long aisles in a dream of awe
+and wonder. "Hush, Tottie!" said Elsie when he broke into an eager
+exclamation, "don't make a noise. I do believe it's something like
+heaven," she said, under her breath.
+
+They made the course of the church and came round by the door again,
+where the sexton stood smiling on them.
+
+"You can find lots of pretty Christmas greens out there," he said,
+pointing to the door; "perhaps your folks would like to have some."
+
+"Oh, thank you, sir," exclaimed. Elsie, rapturously. "Oh, Tottie, only
+think! Let's gather a good lot and go home and dress our room for
+Christmas. Oh, _won't_ mother be astonished when she comes home, we'll
+make it so pretty!"
+
+And forthwith the children began gathering into their little aprons
+wreaths of ground-pine, sprigs of holly, and twigs of crimson bitter-
+sweet. The sexton, seeing their zeal, brought out to them a little cross,
+fancifully made of red alder-berries and pine.
+
+Then he said, "A lady took that down to put up a bigger one, and she gave
+it to me; you may have it if you want it."
+
+"Oh, how beautiful," said Elsie. "How glad I am to have this for mother!
+When she comes back she won't know our room; it will be as fine as the
+church."
+
+Soon the little gleaners were toddling off out of the yard--moving masses
+of green with all that their aprons and their little hands could carry.
+
+The sexton looked after them. "Take heed that ye despise not these little
+ones," he said to himself, "for in heaven their angels--"
+
+A ray of tenderness fell on the old man's head; it was from the Shining
+One who watched the children. He thought it was an afternoon sunbeam. His
+heart grew gentle and peaceful, and his thoughts went far back to a
+distant green grove where his own little one was sleeping. "Seems to me
+I've loved all little ones ever since," he said, thinking far back to the
+Christmas week when his lamb was laid to rest. "Well, she shall not
+return to me, but I shall go to her." The smile of the Shining One made a
+warm glow in his heart, which followed him all the way home.
+
+The children had a merry time dressing the room. They stuck good big
+bushes of pine in each window; they put a little ruffle of ground-pine
+round mother's Bible, and they fastened the beautiful red cross up over
+the table, and they stuck sprigs of pine or holly into every crack that
+could be made, by fair means or foul, to accept it, and they were
+immensely satisfied and delighted. Tottie insisted on hanging up his
+string of many-colored beads in the window to imitate the effect of the
+stained glass of the great church window.
+
+"It looks pretty when the light comes through," he remarked; and Elsie
+admitted that they might play they were painted windows, with some show
+of propriety. When everything had been stuck somewhere, Elsie swept the
+floor, and made up a fire, and put on the tea-kettle, to have everything
+ready to strike mother favorably on her return.
+
+[Decoration]
+
+
+
+SCENE IV.
+
+
+A freezing, bright, cold afternoon. "Cold as Christmas!" say cheery
+voices, as the crowds rush to and fro into shops and stores, and come out
+with hands full of presents.
+
+"Yes, cold as Christmas," says John Morley. "I should think so! Cold
+enough for a fellow that can't get in anywhere--that nobody wants and
+nobody helps! I should think so."
+
+John had been trudging all day from point to point, only to hear the old
+story: times were hard, work was dull, nobody wanted him, and he felt
+morose and surly--out of humor with himself and with everybody else.
+
+It is true that his misfortunes were from his own fault; but that
+consideration never makes a man a particle more patient or good-natured--
+indeed, it is an additional bitterness in his cup. John was an
+Englishman. When he first landed in New York from the old country, he had
+been wild and dissipated and given to drinking. But by his wife's earnest
+entreaties he had been persuaded to sign the temperance pledge, and had
+gone on prosperously keeping it for a year. He had a good place and good
+wages, and all went well with him till in an evil hour he met some of his
+former boon-companions, and was induced to have a social evening with
+them.
+
+In the first half hour of that evening were lost the fruits of the whole
+year's self-denial and self-control. He was not only drunk that night,
+but he went off for a fortnight, and was drunk night after night, and
+came back to find that his master had discharged him in indignation. John
+thinks this over bitterly, as he thuds about in the cold and calls
+himself a fool.
+
+Yet, if the truth must be confessed, John had not much "sense of sin," so
+called. He looked on himself as an unfortunate and rather ill-used man,
+for had he not tried very hard to be good, and gone a great while against
+the stream of evil inclination? and now, just for one yielding, he was
+pitched out of place, and everybody was turned against him! He thought
+this was hard measure. Didn't everybody hit wrong sometimes? Didn't rich
+fellows have their wine, and drink a little too much now and then? Yet
+nobody was down on _them_.
+
+"It's only because I'm poor," said John. "Poor folks' sins are never
+pardoned. There's my good wife--poor girl!" and John's heart felt as if
+it were breaking, for he was an affectionate creature, and loved his wife
+and babies, and in his deepest consciousness he knew that he was the one
+at fault. We have heard much about the sufferings of the wives and
+children of men who are overtaken with drink; but what is not so well
+understood is the sufferings of the men themselves in their sober
+moments, when they feel that they are becoming a curse to all that are
+dearest to them. John's very soul was wrung within him to think of the
+misery he had brought on his wife and children--the greater miseries that
+might be in store for them. He was faint of heart; he was tired; he had
+eaten nothing for hours, and on ahead he saw a drinking saloon. Why
+shouldn't he go and take one good drink, and then pitch off a ferry-boat
+into the East River, and so end the whole miserable muddle of life
+altogether?
+
+John's steps were turning that way, when one of the Shining Ones, who had
+watched him all day, came nearer and took his hand. He felt no touch; but
+at that moment there darted into his soul a thought of his mother, long
+dead, and he stopped irresolute, then turned to walk another way. The
+hand that was guiding him led him to turn a corner, and his curiosity was
+excited by a stream of people who seemed to be pressing into a building.
+A distant sound of singing was heard as he drew nearer, and soon he found
+himself passing with the multitude into a great prayer-meeting. The music
+grew more distinct as he went in. A man was singing in clear, penetrating
+tones:
+
+"What means this eager, anxious throng,
+Which moves with busy haste along;
+These wondrous gatherings day by day;
+What means this strange commotion, say?
+In accents hushed the throng reply,
+'Jesus of Nazareth passeth by!'"
+
+John had but a vague idea of religion, yet something in the singing
+affected him; and, weary and footsore and heartsore as he was, he sank
+into a seat and listened with absorbed attention:
+
+"Jesus! 'tis he who once below
+Man's pathway trod in toil and woe;
+And burdened ones where'er he came
+Brought out their sick and deaf and lame.
+The blind rejoiced to hear the cry,
+'Jesus of Nazareth passeth by!'
+
+"Ho, all ye heavy-laden, come!
+Here's pardon, comfort, rest, and home.
+Ye wanderers from a Father's face,
+Return, accept his proffered grace.
+Ye tempted ones, there's refuge nigh--
+'Jesus of Nazareth passeth by!'"
+
+A plain man, who spoke the language of plain working-men, now arose and
+read from his Bible the words which the angel of old spoke to the
+shepherds of Bethlehem:
+
+"_Fear not, for behold, I bring you tidings of great joy, which shall be
+to all people, for unto you is born this day a Saviour, which is Christ
+the Lord._"
+
+The man went on to speak of this with an intense practical earnestness
+that soon made John feel as if _he_, individually, were being talked to;
+and the purport of the speech was this: that God had sent to him, John
+Morley, a Saviour to save him from his sins, to lift him above his
+weakness, to help him overcome his bad habits; that His name was called
+Jesus, because he shall save his people _from their sins_. John listened
+with a strange new thrill. This was what he needed--a Friend, all-
+powerful, all-pitiful, who would undertake for him and help him to
+overcome himself--for he sorely felt how weak he was. Here was a Friend
+that could have compassion on the ignorant and them that were out of the
+way. The thought brought tears to his eyes and a glow of hope to his
+heart. What if He _would_ help him? for deep down in John's heart, worse
+than cold or hunger or weariness, was the dreadful conviction that he was
+a doomed man, that he should drink again as he had drunk, and never come
+to good, but fall lower and lower, and drag all who loved him down with
+him.
+
+And was this mighty Saviour given to him?
+
+"Yes," cried the man who was speaking; "to _you;_ to you, who have lost
+name and place; to you, that nobody cares for; to you, who have been down
+in the gutter. God has sent you a Saviour to take you up out of the mud
+and mire, to wash you clean, to give you strength to overcome your sins,
+and lead you home to his blessed kingdom. This is the glad tidings of
+great joy that the angels brought on the first Christmas day. Christ was
+_God's Christmas gift_ to a poor, lost world, and you may have him now,
+to-day. He may be your own Saviour--yours as much as if there were no
+other one on earth to be saved. He is looking for you to-day, coming
+after you, seeking you; he calls you by me. Oh, accept him now!"
+
+There was a deep breathing of suppressed emotion as the speaker sat down,
+a pause of solemn stillness.
+
+A faint strain of music was heard, and the singer began singing a
+pathetic ballad of a lost sheep and of the Shepherd going forth to seek
+it:
+
+"There were ninety and nine that safely lay
+ In the shelter of the fold,
+But one was out on the hills away,
+ Far off from the gates of gold--
+Away on the mountains wild and bare,
+Away from the tender Shepherd's care.
+
+"'Lord, Thou hast here Thy ninety and nine;
+ Are they not enough for Thee?'
+But the Shepherd made answer: ''Tis of mine
+ Has wandered away from me;
+And although the road be rough and steep
+I go to the desert to find my sheep.'"
+
+John heard with an absorbed interest. All around him were eager
+listeners, breathless, leaning forward with intense attention. The song
+went on:
+
+"But none of the ransomed ever knew
+ How deep were the waters crossed;
+Nor how dark was the night that the Lord went through
+ Ere He found His sheep that was lost.
+Out in the desert He heard its cry--
+Sick and helpless, and ready to die."
+
+There was a throbbing pathos in the intonation, and the verse floated
+over the weeping throng; when, after a pause, the strain was taken up
+triumphantly:
+
+"But all through the mountains thunder-riven,
+ And up from the rocky steep,
+There rose a cry to the gates of heaven,
+ 'Rejoice! I have found my sheep!'
+And the angels echoed around the throne,
+'Rejoice, for the Lord brings back His own!'"
+
+All day long, poor John had felt so lonesome! Nobody cared for him;
+nobody wanted him; everything was against him; and, worst of all, he had
+no faith in himself. But here was this Friend, _seeking_ him, following
+him through the cold alleys and crowded streets. In heaven they would be
+glad to hear that he had become a good man. The thought broke down all
+his pride, all his bitterness; he wept like a little child; and the
+Christmas gift of Christ--the sense of a real, present, loving, pitying
+Saviour--came into his very _soul_.
+
+He went homeward as one in a dream. He passed the drinking-saloon without
+a thought or wish of drinking. The expulsive force of a new emotion had
+for the time driven out all temptation. Raised above weakness, he thought
+only of this Jesus, this Saviour from sin, who he now believed had
+followed him and found him, and he longed to go home and tell his wife
+what great things the Lord had done for him.
+
+[Decoration]
+
+
+
+SCENE V.
+
+
+Meanwhile a little drama had been acting in John's humble home. His wife
+had been to the shop that day and come home with the pittance for her
+work in her hands.
+
+"I'll pay you full price to-day, but we can't pay such prices any
+longer," the man had said over the counter as he paid her. "Hard times--
+work dull--we are cutting down all our work-folks; you'll have to take a
+third less next time."
+
+"I'll do my best," she said meekly, as she took her bundle of work and
+turned wearily away, but the invisible arm of the Shining One was round
+her, and the words again thrilled through her that she had read that
+morning: "He shall redeem their soul from deceit and violence, and
+precious shall their blood be in his sight." She saw no earthly helper;
+she heard none and felt none, and yet her soul was sustained, and she
+came home in peace.
+
+When she opened the door of her little room she drew back astonished at
+the sight that presented itself. A brisk fire was roaring in the stove,
+and the tea-kettle was sputtering and sending out clouds of steam. A
+table with a white cloth on it was drawn out before the fire, and a new
+tea set of pure white cups and saucers, with teapot, sugar-bowl, and
+creamer, complete, gave a festive air to the whole. There were bread, and
+butter, and ham-sandwiches, and a Christmas cake all frosted, with little
+blue and red and green candles round it ready to be lighted, and a bunch
+of hot-house flowers in a pretty little vase in the centre.
+
+A new stuffed rocking-chair stood on one side of the stove, and there sat
+Miss Florence De Witt, our young princess of Scene First, holding little
+Elsie in her lap, while the broad, honest countenance of Betty was
+beaming with kindness down on the delighted face of Tottie. Both children
+were dressed from head to foot in complete new suits of clothes, and
+Elsie was holding with tender devotion a fine doll, while Tottie rejoiced
+in a horse and cart which he was maneuvering under Betty's
+superintendence.
+
+The little princess had pleased herself in getting up all this tableau.
+Doing good was a novelty to her, and she plunged into it with the zest of
+a new amusement. The amazed look of the poor woman, her dazed expressions
+of rapture and incredulous joy, the shrieks and cries of confused delight
+with which the little ones met their mother, delighted her more than any
+scene she had ever witnessed at the opera--with this added grace, unknown
+to her, that at this scene the invisible Shining Ones were pleased
+witnesses.
+
+She had been out with Betty, buying here and there whatever was wanted,--
+and what was _not_ wanted for those who had been living so long without
+work or money?
+
+She had their little coal-bin filled, and a nice pile of wood and
+kindlings put behind the stove. She had bought a nice rocking-chair for
+the mother to rest in. She had dressed the children from head to foot at
+a ready-made clothing store, and bought them toys to their hearts'
+desire, while Betty had set the table for a Christmas feast.
+
+And now she said to the poor woman at last:
+
+"I'm so sorry John lost his place at father's. He was so kind and
+obliging, and I always liked him; and I've been thinking, if you'd get
+him to sign the pledge over again from Christmas Eve, never to touch
+another drop, I'll get papa to take him back. I always do get papa to do
+what I want, and the fact is, he hasn't got anybody that suited him so
+well since John left. So you tell John that I mean to go surety for him;
+he certainly won't fail _me_. Tell him _I trust him_." And Miss Florence
+pulled out a paper wherein, in her best round hand, she had written out
+again the temperance pledge, and dated it "_Christmas Eve, 1875_."
+
+"Now, you come with John to-morrow morning, and bring this with his name
+to it, and you'll see what I'll do!" and, with a kiss to the children,
+the little good fairy departed, leaving the family to their Christmas
+Eve.
+
+What that Christmas Eve was, when the husband and father came home with
+the new and softened heart that had been given him, who can say? There
+were joyful tears and solemn prayers, and earnest vows and purposes of a
+new life heard by the Shining Ones in the room that night.
+
+"And the angels echoed around the throne,
+Rejoice! for the Lord brings back his own."
+
+
+
+SCENE VI.
+
+
+"Now, papa, I want you to give me something special to-day, because it's
+Christmas," said the little princess to her father, as she kissed and
+wished him "Merry Christmas" next morning.
+
+"What is it, Pussy--half of my kingdom?"
+
+"No, no, papa; not so much as that. It's a little bit of my own way that
+I want."
+
+"Of course; well, what is it?"
+
+"Well, I want you to take John back again."
+
+Her father's face grew hard.
+
+"Now, please, papa, don't say a word till you have heard me. John was a
+capital gardener; he kept the green-house looking beautiful; and this
+Mike that we've got now, he's nothing but an apprentice, and stupid as an
+owl at that! He'll never do in the world."
+
+"All that is very true," said Mr. De Witt, "but _John drinks_, and I
+_won't_ have a drinking man."
+
+"But, papa, _I_ mean to take care of that. I've written out the
+temperance pledge, and dated it, and got John to sign it, and _here it
+is_," and she handed the paper to her father, who read it carefully, and
+sat turning it in his hands while his daughter went on:
+
+"You ought to have seen how poor, how very poor they were. His wife is
+such a nice, quiet, hardworking woman, and has two such pretty children.
+I went to see them and carry them Christmas things yesterday, but it's no
+good doing anything if John can't get work. She told me how the poor
+fellow had been walking the streets in the cold, day after day, trying
+everywhere, and nobody would take him. It's a dreadful time now for a man
+to be out of work, and it isn't fair his poor wife and children should
+suffer. Do try him again, papa!"
+
+"John always did better with the pineapples than anybody we have tried,"
+said Mrs. De Witt at this point. "He is the only one who really
+understands pineapples."
+
+At this moment the door opened, and there was a sound of chirping voices
+in the hall. "Please, Miss Florence," said Betty, "the little folks says
+they wants to give you a Christmas." She added in a whisper: "They thinks
+much of giving you something, poor little things--plaze take it of 'em."
+And little Tottie at the word marched in and offered the young princess
+his dear, beautiful, beloved string of glass beads, and Elsie presented
+the cross of red berries--most dear to her heart and fair to her eyes.
+"We wanted to give _you something_" she said bashfully.
+
+"Oh, you lovely dears!" cried Florence; "how sweet of you! I shall keep
+these beautiful glass beads always, and put the cross up over my
+dressing-table. I thank you _ever_ so much!"
+
+"Are those John's children?" asked Mr. De Witt, winking a tear out of his
+eye--he was at bottom a soft-hearted old gentleman.
+
+"Yes, papa," said Florence, caressing Elsie's curly hair,--"see how sweet
+they are!"
+
+"Well--you may tell John I'll try him again." And so passed Florence's
+Christmas, with a new, warm sense of joy in her heart, a feeling of
+something in the world to be done, worth doing.
+
+"How much joy one can give with a little money!" she said to herself as
+she counted over what she had spent on her Christmas. Ah yes! and how
+true that "It _is_ more blessed to give than to receive." A shining,
+invisible hand was laid on her head in blessing as she lay down that
+night, and a sweet sense of a loving presence stole like music into her
+soul. Unknown to herself, she had that day taken the first step out of
+self-life into that life of love and care for others which brought the
+King of Glory down to share earth's toils and sorrows. And that precious
+experience was Christ's Christmas gift to her.
+
+[Decoration]
+
+
+
+
+
+DEACON PITKIN'S FARM.
+
+
+
+[Illustration: The Pitkin Homestead. ]
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I.
+
+
+MISS DIANA.
+
+Thanksgiving was impending in the village of Mapleton on the 20th of
+November, 1825.
+
+The Governor's proclamation had been duly and truly read from the pulpit
+the Sunday before, to the great consternation of Miss Briskett, the
+ambulatory dressmaker, who declared confidentially to Deacon Pitkin's
+wife that "she didn't see nothin' how she was goin' to get through
+things--and there was Saphiry's gown, and Miss Deacon Trowbridge's cloak,
+and Lizy Jane's new merino, not a stroke done on't. The Governor ought to
+be ashamed of himself for hurrying matters so."
+
+It was a very rash step for Miss Briskett to go to the length of such a
+remark about the Governor, but the deacon's wife was one of the few women
+who are nonconductors of indiscretion, and so the Governor never heard of
+it.
+
+This particular Thanksgiving tide was marked in Mapleton by exceptionally
+charming weather. Once in a great while the inclement New England skies
+are taken with a remorseful twinge and forget to give their usual snap of
+September frost which generally bites off all the pretty flowers in so
+heart-breaking a way, and then you can have lovely times quite down
+through November.
+
+It was so this year at Mapleton. Though the Thanksgiving proclamation had
+been read, and it was past the middle of November, yet marigolds and
+four-o'clocks were all ablaze in the gardens, and the golden rod and
+purple aster were blooming over the fields as if they were expecting to
+keep it up all winter.
+
+It really is affecting, the jolly good heart with which these bright
+children of the rainbow flaunt and wave and dance and go on budding and
+blossoming in the very teeth and snarl of oncoming winter. An autumn
+golden rod or aster ought to be the symbol for pluck and courage, and
+might serve a New England crest as the broom flower did the old
+Plantagenets.
+
+The trees round Mapleton were looking like gigantic tulip beds, and
+breaking every hour into new phantasmagoria of color; and the great elm
+that overshadowed the red Pitkin farm-house seemed like a dome of gold,
+and sent a yellow radiance through all the doors and windows as the
+dreamy autumn sunshine streamed through it.
+
+The Pitkin elm was noted among the great trees of New England. Now and
+then Nature asserts herself and does something so astonishing and
+overpowering as actually to strike through the crust of human stupidity,
+and convince mankind that a tree is something greater than they are. As a
+general thing the human race has a stupid hatred of trees. They embrace
+every chance to cut them down. They have no idea of their fitness for
+anything but firewood or fruit bearing. But a great cathedral elm, with
+shadowy aisles of boughs, its choir of whispering winds and chanting
+birds, its hush and solemnity and majestic grandeur, actually conquers
+the dull human race and asserts its leave to be in a manner to which all
+hearts respond; and so the great elms of New England have got to be
+regarded with a sort of pride as among her very few crown jewels, and the
+Pitkin elm was one of these.
+
+But wasn't it a busy time in Mapleton! Busy is no word for it. Oh, the
+choppings, the poundings, the stoning of raisins, the projections of pies
+and puddings, the killing of turkeys--who can utter it? The very chip
+squirrels in the stone-walls, who have a family custom of making a
+market-basket of their mouths, were rushing about with chops incredibly
+distended, and their tails had an extra whisk of thanksgiving alertness.
+A squirrel's Thanksgiving dinner is an affair of moment, mind you.
+
+In the great roomy, clean kitchen of the deacon's house might be seen the
+lithe, comely form of Diana Pitkin presiding over the roaring great oven
+which was to engulf the armies of pies and cakes which were in due course
+of preparation on the ample tables.
+
+Of course you want to know who Diana Pitkin was. It was a general fact
+about this young lady that anybody who gave one look at her, whether at
+church or at home, always inquired at once with effusion, "Who is she?"--
+particularly if the inquirer was one of the masculine gender.
+
+This was to be accounted for by the fact that Miss Diana presented to the
+first view of the gazer a dazzling combination of pink and white, a
+flashing pair of black eyes, a ripple of dimples about the prettiest
+little rosy mouth in the world, and a frequent somewhat saucy laugh,
+which showed a set of teeth like pearls. Add to this a quick wit, a
+generous though spicy temper, and a nimble tongue, and you will not
+wonder that Miss Diana was a marked character at Mapleton, and that the
+inquiry who she was was one of the most interesting facts of statistical
+information.
+
+Well, she was Deacon Pitkin's second cousin, and of course just in that
+convenient relationship to the Pitkin boys which has all the advantages
+of cousinship and none of the disadvantages as may be plain to an
+ordinary observer. For if Miss Diana wished to ride or row or dance with
+any of the Pitkin boys, why shouldn't she? Were they not her cousins? But
+if any of these aforenamed young fellows advanced on the strength of
+these intimacies a presumptive claim to nearer relationship, why, then
+Diana was astonished--of course she had regarded them as her cousins! and
+she was sure she couldn't think what they could be dreaming of--"A cousin
+is just like a brother, you know."
+
+This was just what James Pitkin did not believe in, and now as he is
+walking over hill and dale from Cambridge College to his father's house
+he is gathering up a decided resolution to tell Diana that he is not and
+will not be to her as a brother--that she must be to him all or nothing.
+James is the brightest, the tallest, and, the Mapleton girls said, the
+handsomest of the Pitkin boys. He is a strong-hearted, generous, resolute
+fellow as ever undertook to walk thirty-five miles home to eat his
+Thanksgiving dinner.
+
+[Illustration: Diana.]
+
+We are not sure that Miss Diana is not thinking of him quite as much as
+he of her, as she stands there with the long kitchen shovel in one hand,
+and one plump white arm thrust into the oven, and her little head cocked
+on one side, her brows bent, and her rosy mouth pursed up with a solemn
+sense of the importance of her judgment as she is testing the heat of her
+oven.
+
+Oh, Di, Di! for all you seem to have nothing on your mind but the
+responsibility for all those pumpkin pies and cranberry tarts, we
+wouldn't venture a very large wager that you are not thinking about
+cousin James under it all at this very minute, and that all this pretty
+bustling housewifeliness owes its spice and flavor to the thought that
+James is coming to the Thanksgiving dinner.
+
+To be sure if any one had told Di so, she would have flouted the very
+idea. Besides, she had privately informed Almira Sisson, her special
+particular confidante, that she knew Jim would come home from college
+full of conceit, and thinking that everybody must bow down to him, and
+for her part she meant to make him know his place. Of course Jim and she
+were good friends, etc., etc.
+
+Oh, Di, Di! you silly, naughty girl, was it for this that you stood so
+long at your looking-glass last night, arranging how you would do your
+hair for the Thanksgiving night dance? Those killing bows which you
+deliberately fabricated and lodged like bright butterflies among the dark
+waves of your hair--who were you thinking of as you made and posed them?
+Lay your hand on your heart and say who to you has ever seemed the best,
+the truest, the bravest and kindest of your friends. But Di doesn't
+trouble herself with such thoughts--she only cuts out saucy mottoes from
+the flaky white paste to lay on the red cranberry tarts, of which she
+makes a special one for each cousin. For there is Bill, the second
+eldest, who stays at home and helps work the farm. She knows that Bill
+worships her very shoe-tie, and obeys all her mandates with the faithful
+docility of a good Newfoundland dog, and Di says "she thinks everything
+of Bill--she likes Bill." So she does Ed, who comes a year or two behind
+Bill, and is trembling out of bashful boyhood. So she does Rob and Ike
+and Pete and the whole healthy, ramping train who fill the Pitkin farm-
+house with a racket of boots and boys. So she has made every one a tart
+with his initial on it and a saucy motto or two, "just to keep them from
+being conceited, you know."
+
+All day she keeps busy by the side of the deacon's wife--a delicate,
+thin, quiet little woman, with great thoughtful eyes and a step like a
+snowflake. New England had of old times, and has still, perhaps, in her
+farm-houses, these women who seem from year to year to develop in the
+spiritual sphere as the bodily form shrinks and fades. While the cheek
+grows thin and the form spare, the will-power grows daily stronger;
+though the outer man perish, the inner man is renewed day by day. The
+worn hand that seems so weak yet holds every thread and controls every
+movement of the most complex family life, and wonders are daily
+accomplished by the presence of a woman who seems little more than a
+spirit. The New England wife-mother was the one little jeweled pivot on
+which all the wheel work of the family moved.
+
+"Well, haven't we done a good day's work, cousin?" says Diana, when
+ninety pies of every ilk--quince, apple, cranberry, pumpkin, and mince--
+have been all safely delivered from the oven and carried up into the
+great vacant chamber, where, ranged in rows and frozen solid, they are to
+last over New Year's day! She adds, demonstratively clasping the little
+woman round the neck and leaning her bright cheek against her whitening
+hair, "Haven't we been smart?" And the calm, thoughtful eyes turn
+lovingly upon her as Mary Pitkin puts her arm round her and answers:
+
+"Yes, my daughter, you have done wonderfully. We couldn't do without
+you!"
+
+And Diana lifts her head and laughs. She likes petting and praising as a
+cat likes being stroked; but, for all that, the little puss has her claws
+and a sly notion of using them.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II.
+
+
+BIAH CARTER.
+
+It was in the flush and glow of a gorgeous sunset that you might have
+seen the dark form of the Pitkin farm-house rising on a green hill
+against the orange sky.
+
+The red house, with its overhanging canopy of elm, stood out like an old
+missal picture done on a gold ground.
+
+Through the glimmer of the yellow twilight might be seen the stacks of
+dry corn-stalks and heaps of golden pumpkins in the neighboring fields,
+from which the slow oxen were bringing home a cart well laden with farm
+produce.
+
+It was the hour before supper time, and Biah Carter, the deacon's hired
+man, was leaning against a fence, waiting for his evening meal; indulging
+the while in a stream of conversational wisdom which seemed to flow all
+the more freely from having been dammed up through the labors of the day.
+
+[Illustration: Biah]
+
+Biah was, in those far distant times of simplicity a "mute inglorious"
+newspaper man. Newspapers in those days were as rare and unheard of as
+steam cars or the telegraph, but Biah had within him all the making of a
+thriving modern reporter, and no paper to use it on. He was a walking
+biographical and statistical dictionary of all the affairs of the good
+folks of Mapleton. He knew every piece of furniture in their houses, and
+what they gave for it; every foot of land, and what it was worth; every
+ox, ass and sheep; every man, woman and child in town. And Biah could
+give pretty shrewd character pictures also, and whoever wanted to inform
+himself of the status of any person or thing in Mapleton would have done
+well to have turned the faucet of Biah's stream of talk, and watched it
+respectfully as it came, for it was commonly conceded that what Biah
+Carter didn't know about Mapleton was hardly worth knowing.
+
+"Putty piece o' property, this 'ere farm," he said, surveying the scene
+around him with the air of a connoisseur. "None o' yer stun pastur land
+where the sheep can't get their noses down through the rocks without a
+file to sharpen 'em! Deacon Pitkin did a putty fair stroke o' business
+when he swapped off his old place for this 'ere. That are old place was
+all swamp land and stun pastur; wa'n't good for raisin' nothin' but
+juniper bushes and bull frogs. But I tell _yeu_" preceded Biah, with a
+shrewd wink, "that are mortgage pinches the deacon; works him like a dose
+of aloes and picry, it does. Deacon fairly gets lean on't."
+
+"Why," said Abner Jenks, a stolid plow boy to whom this stream of remark
+was addressed; "this 'ere place ain't mortgaged, is it? Du tell, naow!"
+
+"Why, yis; don't ye know that are? Why there's risin' two thousand
+dollars due on this 'ere farm, and if the deacon don't scratch for it and
+pay up squar to the minit, old Squire Norcross'll foreclose on him. Old
+squire hain't no bowels, I tell yeu, and the deacon knows he hain't: and
+I tell you it keeps the deacon dancin' lively as corn on a hot shovel."
+
+"The deacon's a master hand to work," said Abner; "so's the boys."
+
+"Wai, yis, the deacon is," said Biah, turning contemplatively to the
+farmhouse; "there ain't a crittur in that are house that there ain't the
+most work got out of 'em that ken be, down to Jed and Sam, the little
+uns. They work like tigers, every soul of 'em, from four o'clock in she
+morning' as long as they can see, and Mis' Pitkin she works all the
+evening--woman's work ain't never done, they say."
+
+"She's a good woman, Mis' Pitkin is," said Abner, "and she's a smart
+worker."
+
+In this phrase Abner solemnly expressed his highest ideal of a human
+being.
+
+"Smart ain't no word for 't," said Biah, with alertness. "Declar for 't,
+the grit o' that are woman beats me. Had eight children right along in a
+string 'thout stoppin', done all her own work, never kep' no gal nor
+nothin'; allers up and dressed; allers to meetin' Sunday, and to the
+prayer-meetin' weekly, and never stops workin': when 'tan't one thing
+it's another--cookin', washin', ironin', making butter and cheese, and
+'tween spells cuttin' and sewin', and if she ain't doin' that, why, she's
+braidin' straw to sell to the store or knitting--she's the perpetual
+motion ready found, Mis' Pitkin is."
+
+"Want ter know," said the auditor, as a sort of musical rest in this
+monotone of talk. "Ain't she smart, though!"
+
+"Smart! Well, I should think she was. She's over and into everything
+that's goin' on in that house. The deacon wouldn't know himself without
+her; nor wouldn't none of them boys, they just live out of her; she kind
+o' keeps 'em all up."
+
+"Wal, she ain't a hefty woman, naow," said the interlocutor, who seemed
+to be possessed by a dim idea that worth must be weighed by the pound.
+
+"Law bless you, no! She's a little crittur; nothin' to look to, but every
+bit in her is _live_. She looks pale, kind o' slips round still like
+moonshine, but where anything's to be done, there Mis' Pitkin is; and her
+hand allers goes to the right spot, and things is done afore ye know it.
+That are woman's kind o' still; she'll slip off and be gone to heaven
+some day afore folks know it. There comes the deacon and Jim over the
+hill. Jim walked home from college day 'fore yesterday, and turned right
+in to-day to help get in the taters, workin' right along. Deacon was
+awful grouty."
+
+"What was the matter o' the deacon?"
+
+"Oh, the mortgage kind o' works him. The time to pay comes round putty
+soon, and the deacon's face allers goes down long as yer arm. 'Tis a
+putty tight pull havin' Jim in college, losin' his work and havin' term
+bills and things to pay. Them are college folks charges _up_, I tell you.
+I seen it works the deacon, I heard him a-jawin' Jim 'bout it."
+
+"What made Jim go to college?" said Abner with slow wonder in his heavy
+face.
+
+"Oh, he allers was sot on eddication, and Mis' Pitkin she's sot on't,
+too, in her softly way, and softly women is them that giner'lly carries
+their p'ints, fust or last.
+
+"But _there's_ one that _ain't_ softly!" Biah suddenly continued, as the
+vision of a black-haired, bright-eyed girl suddenly stepped forth from
+the doorway, and stood shading her face with her hands, looking towards
+the sunset. The evening light lit up a jaunty spray of golden rod that
+she had wreathed in her wavy hair, and gave a glow to the rounded
+outlines of her handsome form. "There's a sparkler for you! And no saint,
+neither!" was Biah's comment. "That crittur has got more prances and
+capers in her than any three-year-old filly I knows on. He'll be cunning
+that ever gets a bridle on her."
+
+"Some says she's going to hev Jim Pitkin, and some says it's Bill," said
+Abner, delighted to be able to add his mite of gossip to the stream while
+it was flowing.
+
+"She's sweet on Jim while he's round, and she's sweet on Bill when Jim's
+up to college, and between um she gets took round to everything that
+going. She gives one a word over one shoulder, and one over t'other, and
+if the Lord above knows what's in that gal's mind or what she's up to, he
+knows more than I do, or she either, else I lose my bet."
+
+Biah made this admission with a firmness that might have been a model to
+theologians or philosophers in general. There was a point, it appeared,
+where he was not omniscient. His universal statistical knowledge had a
+limit.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III.
+
+
+THE SHADOW.
+
+There is no moment of life, however festive, that does not involve the
+near presence of a possible tragedy. When the concert of life is playing
+the gayest and airiest music, it requires only the change of a little
+flat or sharp to modulate into the minor key.
+
+There seemed at first glance only the elements of joyousness and gayety
+in the surroundings at the Pitkin farm. Thanksgiving was come--the
+family, healthy, rosy, and noisy, were all under the one roof-tree. There
+was energy, youth, intelligence, beauty, a pair of lovers on the eve of
+betrothal--just in that misty, golden twilight that precedes the full
+sunrise of avowed and accepted love--and yet behind it all was walking
+with stealthy step the shadow of a coming sorrow.
+
+"What in the world ails James?" said Diana as she retreated from the door
+and surveyed him at a distance from her chamber window. His face was like
+a landscape over which a thunder-cloud has drifted, and he walked beside
+his father with a peculiar air of proud displeasure and repression.
+
+At that moment the young man was struggling with the bitterest sorrow
+that can befall youth--the breaking up of his life-purpose. He had just
+come to a decision to sacrifice his hopes of education, his man's
+ambition, his love, his home and family, and become a wanderer on the
+face of the earth. How this befell requires a sketch of character.
+
+Deacon Silas Pitkin was a fair specimen of a class of men not uncommon in
+New England--men too sensitive for the severe physical conditions of New
+England life, and therefore both suffering and inflicting suffering. He
+was a man of the finest moral traits, of incorruptible probity, of
+scrupulous honor, of an exacting conscientiousness, and of a sincere
+piety. But he had begun life with nothing; his whole standing in the
+world had been gained inch by inch by the most unremitting economy and
+self-denial, and he was a man of little capacity for hope, of whom it was
+said, in popular phraseology, that he "took things hard." He was never
+sanguine of good, always expectant of evil, and seemed to view life like
+a sentinel forbidden to sleep and constantly under arms.
+
+For such a man to be harassed by a mortgage upon his homestead was a
+steady wear and drain upon his vitality. There were times when a positive
+horror of darkness came down upon him--when his wife's untroubled,
+patient hopefulness seemed to him like recklessness, when the smallest
+item of expense was an intolerable burden, and the very daily bread of
+life was full of bitterness; and when these paroxysms were upon him, one
+of the heaviest of his burdens was the support of his son in college. It
+was true that he was proud of his son's talents and sympathized with his
+love for learning--he had to the full that sense of the value of
+education which is the very vital force of the New England mind--and in
+an hour when things looked brighter to him he had given his consent to
+the scheme of a college education freely.
+
+James was industrious, frugal, energetic, and had engaged to pay the most
+of his own expenses by teaching in the long winter vacations. But
+unfortunately this year the Mapleton Academy, which had been promised to
+him for the winter term, had been taken away by a little maneuver of
+local politics and given to another, thus leaving him without resource.
+This disappointment, coming just at the time when the yearly interest
+upon the mortgage was due, had brought upon his father one of those
+paroxysms of helpless gloom and discouragement in which the very world
+itself seemed clothed in sack-cloth.
+
+From the time that he heard the Academy was gone, Deacon Silas lay awake
+nights in the blackness of darkness. "We shall all go to the poorhouse
+together--that's where it will end," he said, as he tossed restlessly in
+the dark.
+
+"Oh no, no, my dear," said his wife, with those serene eyes that had
+looked through so many gloomy hours; "we must cast our care on God."
+
+"It's easy for women to talk. You don't have the interest money to pay,
+you are perfectly reckless of expense. Nothing would do but James must go
+to college, and now see what it's bringing us to!"
+
+"Why, father, I thought you yourself were in favor of it."
+
+"Well, I did wrong then. You persuaded me into it. I'd no business to
+have listened to you and Jim and got all this load on my shoulders."
+
+Yet Mary Pitkin knew in her own calm, clear head that she had not been
+reckless of expense. The yearly interest money was ever before her, and
+her own incessant toils had wrought no small portion of what was needed
+to pay it. Her butter at the store commanded the very highest price, her
+straw braiding sold for a little more than that of any other hand, and
+she had calculated all the returns so exactly that she felt sure that the
+interest money for that year was safe. She had seen her husband pass
+through this nervous crisis many times before, and she had learned to be
+blamed in silence, for she was a woman out of whom all selfness had long
+since died, leaving only the tender pity of the nurse and the consoler.
+Her soul rested on her Saviour, the one ever-present, inseparable friend;
+and when it did no good to speak to her husband, she spoke to her God for
+him, and so was peaceful and peace-giving.
+
+Even her husband himself felt her strengthening, rest-giving power, and
+for this reason he bore down on her with the burden of all his tremors and
+his cares; for while he disputed, he yet believed her, and rested upon
+her with an utter helpless trust, as the good angel of his house. Had
+_she_ for a moment given way to apprehension, had _her_ step been a
+thought less firm, her eye less peaceful, then indeed the world itself
+would have seemed to be sinking under his feet. Meanwhile she was to him
+that kind of relief which we derive from a person to whom we may say
+everything without a fear of its harming them. He felt quite sure that,
+say what he would, Mary would always be hopeful and courageous; and he
+felt some secret idea that his own gloomy forebodings were of service in
+restricting and sobering what seemed to him her too sanguine nature. He
+blindly reverenced, without ability fully to comprehend, her exalted
+religious fervor and the quietude of soul that it brought. But he did not
+know through how many silent conflicts, how many prayers, how many tears,
+how many hopes resigned and sorrows welcomed, she had come into that last
+refuge of sorrowful souls, that immovable peace when all life's anguish
+ceases and the will of God becomes the final rest.
+
+But, unhappily for this present crisis, there was, as there often is in
+family life, just enough of the father's nature in the son to bring them
+into collision with each other. James had the same nervously anxious
+nature, the same intense feeling of responsibility, the same tendency
+towards morbid earnestness; and on that day there had come collision.
+
+His father had poured forth upon him his fears and apprehensions in a
+manner which implied a censure on his son, as being willing to accept a
+life of scholarly ease while his father and mother were, as he expressed
+it, "working their lives away."
+
+"But I tell you, father, as God is my witness, I _mean_ to pay all; you
+shall not suffer; interest and principal--all that my work would bring--I
+engage to pay back."
+
+"You!--you'll never have anything! You'll be a poor man as long as you
+live. Lost the Academy this Fall--that tells the story!"
+
+"But, father, it wasn't my fault that I lost the Academy."
+
+"It's no matter whose fault it was--that's neither here nor there--you
+lost it, and here you are with the vacation before you and nothing to do!
+There's your mother, she's working herself to death; she never gets any
+rest. I expect she'll go off in a consumption one of these days."
+
+"There, there, father! that's enough! Please don't say any more. You'll
+see I _will_ find something to do!"
+
+There are words spoken at times in life that do not sound bitter though
+they come from a pitiable depth of anguish, and as James turned from his
+father he had taken a resolution that convulsed him with pain; his strong
+arms quivered with the repressed agony, and he hastily sought a distant
+part of the field, and began cutting and stacking corn-stalks with a
+nervous energy.
+
+"Why, ye work like thunder!" was Biah's comment. "Book l'arnin' hain't
+spiled ye yet; your arms are good for suthin'."
+
+"Yes, my arms are good for something, and I'll use them for something,"
+said Jim.
+
+There was raging a tempest in his soul. For a young fellow of a Puritan
+education in those days to be angry with his father was somewhat that
+seemed to him as awful a sacrilege as to be angry with his God, and yet
+he felt that his father had been bitterly, cruelly unjust towards him. He
+had driven economy to the most stringent extremes; he had avoided the
+intimacy of his class fellows, lest he should be drawn into needless
+expenses; he had borne with shabby clothing and mean fare among better
+dressed and richer associates, and been willing to bear it. He had
+studied faithfully, unremittingly, for two years, but at the moment he
+turned from his father the throb that wrung his heart was the giving up
+of all. He had in his pocket a letter from his townsman and schoolmate,
+Sam Allen, mate of an East Indiaman just fitting out at Salem, and it
+said:
+
+"We are going to sail with a picked crew, and we want one just such a
+fellow as you for third mate. Come along, and you can go right up, and
+your college mathematics will be all the better for us. Come right off,
+and your berth will be ready, and away for round the world!"
+
+Here, to be sure, was immediate position--wages--employment--freedom from
+the intolerable burden of dependence; but it was accepted at the
+sacrifice of all his life's hopes. True, that in those days the
+experiment of a sea-faring life had often, even in instances which he
+recalled, brought forth fortune and an ability to settle down in peaceful
+competence in after life. But there was Diana. Would she wait for him?
+Encircled on all sides with lovers, would she keep faith with an
+adventurer gone for an indefinite quest? The desponding, self-distrusting
+side of his nature said, "No. Why should she?" Then, to go was to give
+up Diana--to make up his mind to have her belong to some other. Then
+there was his mother. An unutterable reverential pathos always to him
+encircled the idea of his mother. Her life to him seemed a hard one. From
+the outside, as he viewed it, it was all self-sacrifice and renunciation.
+Yet he knew that she had set her heart on an education for him, as much
+as it could be set on anything earthly. He was her pride, her hope; and
+just now that very thought was full of bitterness. There was no help for
+it; he must not let her work herself to death for him; he would make the
+household vessel lighter by the throwing himself into the sea, to sink or
+swim as might happen; and then, perhaps, he might come back with money to
+help them all.
+
+All this was what was surging and boiling in his mind when he came in
+from his work to the supper that night.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV.
+
+
+THE GOOD-BY.
+
+Diana Pitkin was like some of the fruits of her native hills, full of
+juices which tend to sweetness in maturity, but which when not quite ripe
+have a pretty decided dash of sharpness. There are grapes that require a
+frost to ripen them, and Diana was somewhat akin to these.
+
+She was a mettlesome, warm-blooded creature, full of the energy and
+audacity of youth, to whom as yet life was only a frolic and a play
+spell. Work never tired her. She ate heartily, slept peacefully, went to
+bed laughing, and got up in a merry humor in the morning. Diana's laugh
+was as early a note as the song of birds. Such a nature is not at first
+sympathetic. It has in it some of the unconscious cruelty which belongs
+to nature itself, whose sunshine never pales at human trouble. Eyes that
+have never wept cannot comprehend sorrow. Moreover, a lively girl of
+eighteen, looking at life out of eyes which bewilder others with their
+brightness, does not always see the world truly, and is sometimes judged
+to be heartless when she is only immature.
+
+Nothing was further from Diana's thoughts than that any grave trouble was
+overhanging her lover's mind--for her lover she very well knew that James
+was, and she had arranged beforehand to herself very pretty little
+comedies of life, to be duly enacted in the long vacation, in which James
+was to appear as the suitor, and she, not too soon nor with too much
+eagerness, was at last to acknowledge to him how much he was to her. But
+meanwhile he was not to be too presumptuous. It was not set down in the
+cards that she should be too gracious or make his way too easy. When,
+therefore, he brushed by her hastily, on entering the house, with a
+flushed cheek and frowning brow, and gave no glance of admiration at the
+pretty toilet she had found time to make, she was slightly indignant. She
+was as ignorant of the pang which went like an arrow through his heart at
+the sight of her as the bobolink which whirrs and chitters and tweedles
+over a grave.
+
+She turned away and commenced a kitten-like frolic with Bill, who was
+always only too happy to second any of her motions, and readily promised
+that after supper she would go with him a walk of half a mile over to a
+neighbor's, where was a corn-husking. A great golden lamp of a harvest
+moon was already coming up in the fading flush of the evening sky, and
+she promised herself much amusement in watching the result of her
+maneuver on James.
+
+"He'll see at any rate that I am not waiting his beck and call. Next
+time, if he wants my company he can ask for it in season. I'm not going
+to indulge him in sulks, not I. These college fellows worry over books
+till they hurt their digestion, and then have the blues and look as if
+the world was coming to an end." And Diana went to the looking-glass and
+rearranged the spray of golden-rod in her hair and nodded at herself
+defiantly, and then turned to help get on the supper.
+
+The Pitkin folk that night sat down to an ample feast, over which the
+impending Thanksgiving shed its hilarity. There was not only the
+inevitable great pewter platter, scoured to silver brightness, in the
+center of the table, and piled with solid masses of boiled beef, pork,
+cabbage and all sorts of vegetables, and the equally inevitable smoking
+loaf of rye and Indian bread, to accompany the pot of baked pork and
+beans, but there were specimens of all the newly-made Thanksgiving pies
+filling every available space on the table. Diana set special value on
+herself as a pie artist, and she had taxed her ingenuity this year to
+invent new varieties, which were received with bursts of applause by the
+boys. These sat down to the table in democratic equality,--Biah Carter
+and Abner with all the sons of the family, old and young, each eager,
+hungry and noisy; and over all, with moonlight calmness and steadiness,
+Mary Pitkin ruled and presided, dispensing to each his portion in due
+season, while Diana, restless and mischievous as a sprite, seemed to be
+possessed with an elfin spirit of drollery, venting itself in sundry
+little tricks and antics which drew ready laughs from the boys and
+reproving glances from the deacon. For the deacon was that night in one
+of his severest humors. As Biah Carter afterwards remarked of that night,
+"You could feel there was thunder in the air somewhere round. The deacon
+had got on about his longest face, and when the deacon's face is about
+down to its wust, why, it would stop a robin singin'--there couldn't
+nothin' stan' it."
+
+To-night the severely cut lines of his face had even more than usual of
+haggard sternness, and the handsome features of James beside him, in
+their fixed gravity, presented that singular likeness which often comes
+out between father and son in seasons of mental emotion. Diana in vain
+sought to draw a laugh from her cousin. In pouring his home-brewed beer
+she contrived to spatter him, but he wiped it off without a smile, and
+let pass in silence some arrows of raillery that she had directed at his
+somber face.
+
+When they rose from table, however, he followed her into the pantry.
+
+"Diana, will you take a walk with me to-night?" he said, in a voice husky
+with repressed feeling.
+
+"To-night! Why, I have just promised Bill to go with him over to the
+husking at the Jenks's. Why don't you go with us? We're going to have
+lots of fun," she added with an innocent air of not perceiving his
+gravity.
+
+"I can't," he said. "Besides I wanted to walk with you alone. I had
+something special I wanted to say."
+
+"Bless me, how you frighten one! You look solemn as a hearse; but I
+promised to go with Bill to-night, and I suspect another time will do
+just as well. What you have to say will _keep_, I suppose," she said
+mischievously.
+
+He turned away quickly.
+
+"I should really like to know what's the matter with you to-night," she
+added, but as she spoke he went up-stairs and shut the door.
+
+"He's cross to-night," was Diana's comment. "Well, he'll have to get over
+his pet. I sha'n't mind it!"
+
+Up-stairs in his room James began the work of putting up the bundle with
+which he was to go forth to seek his fortune. There stood his books,
+silent and dear witnesses of the world of hope and culture and refined
+enjoyment he had been meaning to enter. He was to know them no more.
+Their mute faces seemed to look at him mournfully as parting friends. He
+rapidly made his selection, for that night he was to be off in time to
+reach the vessel before she sailed, and he felt even glad to avoid the
+Thanksgiving festivities for which he had so little relish. Diana's
+frolicsome gaiety seemed heart-breaking to him, on the same principle
+that the poet sings:
+
+"How can ye chant, ye little birds,
+And I sae weary, fu' o' care?"
+
+To the heart struck through with its first experiences of real suffering
+all nature is full of cruelty, and the young and light-hearted are a
+large part of nature.
+
+"She has no feeling," he said to himself. "Well, there is one reason the
+more for my going. _She_ won't break her heart for me; nobody loves me
+but mother, and it's for her sake I must go. She mustn't work herself to
+death for me."
+
+And then he sat down in the window to write a note to be given to his
+mother after he had sailed, for he could not trust himself to tell her
+what he was about to do. He knew that she would try to persuade him to
+stay, and he felt faint-hearted when he thought of her. "She would sit
+up early and late, and work for me to the last gasp," he thought, "but
+father was right. It is selfish of me to take it," and so he sat trying
+to fashion his parting note into a tone of cheerfulness.
+
+"My dear mother," he wrote, "this will come to you when I have set off on
+a four years' voyage round the world. Father has convinced me that it's
+time for me to be doing something for myself; and I couldn't get a school
+to keep--and, after all, education is got other ways than at college.
+It's hard to go, because I love home, and hard because you will miss me--
+though no one else will. But father may rely upon it, I will not be a
+burden on him another day. Sink or swim, I shall _never_ come back till I
+have enough to do for myself, and you too. So good bye, dear mother. I
+know you will always pray for me, and wherever I am I shall try to do
+just as I think you would want me to do. I know your prayers will follow
+me, and I shall always be your affectionate son.
+
+"P.S.--The boys may have those chestnuts and walnuts in my room--and in
+my drawer there is a bit of ribbon with a locket on it I was going to
+give cousin Diana. Perhaps she won't care for it, though; but if she
+does, she is welcome to it--it may put her in mind of old times."'
+
+And this is all he said, with bitterness in his heart, as he leaned on
+the window and looked out at the great yellow moon that was shining so
+bright as to show the golden hues of the overhanging elm boughs and the
+scarlet of an adjoining maple.
+
+A light ripple of laughter came up from below, and a chestnut thrown up
+struck him on the hand, and he saw Diana and Bill step from out the
+shadowy porch.
+
+"There's a chestnut for you, Mr. Owl," she called, gaily, "if you _will_
+stay moping up there! Come, now, it's a splendid evening; _won't_ you
+come?"
+
+"No, thank you. I sha'n't be missed," was the reply.
+
+"That's true enough; the loss is your own. Good bye, Mr. Philosopher."
+
+"Good bye, Diana."
+
+Something in the tone struck strangely through her heart. It was the
+voice of what Diana never had felt yet--deep suffering--and she gave a
+little shiver.
+
+"What an _awfully_ solemn voice James has sometimes," she said; and then
+added, with a laugh, "it would make his fortune as a Methodist minister."
+
+The sound of the light laugh and little snatches and echoes of gay talk
+came back like heartless elves to mock Jim's sorrow.
+
+"So much for _her_," he said, and turned to go and look for his mother.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V.
+
+
+MOTHER AND SON.
+
+He knew where he should find her. There was a little, low work-room
+adjoining the kitchen that was his mother's sanctum. There stood her
+work-basket--there were always piles and piles of work, begun or
+finished; and there also her few books at hand, to be glanced into in
+rare snatches of leisure in her busy life.
+
+The old times New England house mother was not a mere unreflective drudge
+of domestic toil. She was a reader and a thinker, keenly appreciative in
+intellectual regions. The literature of that day in New England was
+sparse; but whatever there was, whether in this country or in England,
+that was noteworthy, was matter of keen interest, and Mrs. Pitkin's small
+library was very dear to her. No nun in a convent under vows of
+abstinence ever practiced more rigorous self-denial than she did in the
+restraints and government of intellectual tastes and desires. Her son was
+dear to her as the fulfillment and expression of her unsatisfied craving
+for knowledge, the possessor of those fair fields of thought which duty
+forbade her to explore.
+
+James stood and looked in at the window, and saw her sorting and
+arranging the family mending, busy over piles of stockings and shirts,
+while on the table beside her lay her open Bible, and she was singing to
+herself, in a low, sweet undertone, one of the favorite minor-keyed
+melodies of those days:
+
+"O God, our help in ages past,
+ Our hope for years to come,
+Our shelter from the stormy blast
+ And our eternal home!"
+
+An indescribable feeling, blended of pity and reverence, swelled in his
+heart as he looked at her and marked the whitening hair, the thin worn
+little hands so busy with their love work, and thought of all the bearing
+and forbearing, the waiting, the watching, the long-suffering that had
+made up her life for so many years. The very look of exquisite calm and
+resolved strength in her patient eyes and in the gentle lines of her face
+had something that seemed to him sad and awful--as the purely spiritual
+always looks to the more animal nature. With his blood bounding and
+tingling in his veins, his strong arms pulsating with life, and his heart
+full of a man's vigor and resolve, his mother's life seemed to him to be
+one of weariness and drudgery, of constant, unceasing self-abnegation.
+Calm he knew she was, always sustained, never faltering; but her victory
+was one which, like the spiritual sweetness in the face of the dying, had
+something of sadness for the living heart.
+
+He opened the door and came in, sat down by her on the floor, and laid
+his head in her lap.
+
+"Mother, you never rest; you never stop working."
+
+"Oh, no!" she said gaily, "I'm just going to stop now. I had only a few
+last things I wanted to get done."
+
+"Mother, I can't bear to think of you; your life is too hard. We all have
+our amusements, our rests, our changes; your work is never done; you are
+worn out, and get no time to read, no time for anything but drudgery."
+
+"Don't say drudgery, my boy--work done for those we love _never_ is
+drudgery. I'm so happy to have you all around me I never feel it."
+
+"But, mother, you are not strong, and I don't see how you can hold out to
+do all you do."
+
+"Well," she said simply, "when my strength is all gone I ask God for
+more, and he always gives it. 'They that wait on the Lord shall renew
+their strength.'" And her hand involuntarily fell on the open Bible.
+
+"Yes, I know it," he said, following her hand with his eyes--while
+"Mother," he said, "I want you to give me your Bible and take mine. I
+think yours would do me more good."
+
+There was a little bright flush and a pleased smile on his mother's face--
+
+"Certainly, my boy, I will."
+
+"I see you have marked your favorite places," he added. "It will seem
+like hearing you speak to read them."
+
+"With all my heart," she added, taking up the Bible and kissing his
+forehead as she put it into his hands.
+
+There was a struggle in his heart how to say farewell without saying it--
+without letting her know that he was going to leave her. He clasped her
+in his arms and kissed her again and again.
+
+"Mother," he said, "if I ever get into heaven it will be through you."
+
+"Don't say that, my son--it must be through a better Friend than I am--
+who loves you more than I do. I have not died for you--He did."
+
+"Oh, that I knew where I might find him, then. You I can see--Him I
+cannot."
+
+His mother looked at him with a face full of radiance, pity, and hope.
+
+"I feel sure you _will_" she said. "You are consecrated," she added, in a
+low voice, laying her hand on his head.
+
+"Amen," said James, in a reverential tone. He felt that she was at that
+moment--as she often was--silently speaking to One invisible of and for
+him, and the sense of it stole over him like a benediction. There was a
+pause of tender silence for many minutes.
+
+"Well, I must not keep you up any longer, mother dear--it's time you were
+resting. Good-night." And with a long embrace and kiss they separated. He
+had yet fifteen miles to walk to reach the midnight stage that was to
+convey him to Salem.
+
+As he was starting from the house with his bundle in his hand, the sound
+of a gay laugh came through the distant shrubbery. It was Diana and Bill
+returning from the husking. Hastily he concealed himself behind a clump
+of old lilac bushes till they emerged into the moonlight and passed into
+the house. Diana was in one of those paroxysms of young girl frolic which
+are the effervescence of young, healthy blood, as natural as the
+gyrations of a bobolink on a clover head. James was thinking of dark
+nights and stormy seas, years of exile, mother's sorrows, home perhaps
+never to be seen more, and the laugh jarred on him like a terrible
+discord. He watched her into the house, turned, and was gone.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI.
+
+
+GONE TO SEA.
+
+A little way on in his moonlight walk James's ears were saluted by the
+sound of some one whistling and crackling through the bushes, and soon
+Biah Carter, emerged into the moonlight, having been out to the same
+husking where Diana and Bill had been enjoying themselves. The sight of
+him resolved a doubt which had been agitating James's mind. The note to
+his mother which was to explain his absence and the reasons for it was
+still in his coat-pocket, and he had designed sending it back by some
+messenger at the tavern where he took the midnight stage; but here was a
+more trusty party. It involved, to be sure, the necessity of taking Biah
+into his confidence. James was well aware that to tell that acute
+individual the least particle of a story was like starting a gimlet in a
+pine board--there was no stop till it had gone through. So he told him in
+brief that a good berth had been offered to him on the _Eastern Star_,
+and he meant to take it to relieve his father of the pressure of his
+education.
+
+"Wal naow--you don't say so," was Biah's commentary. "Wal, yis, 'tis hard
+sleddin' for the deacon--drefful hard sleddin.' Wal, naow, s'pose you're
+disapp'inted--shouldn't wonder--jes' so. Eddication's a good thing, but
+'taint the only thing naow; folks larns a sight rubbin' round the world--
+and then they make money. Jes' see, there's Cap'n Stebbins and Cap'n
+Andrews and Cap'n Merryweather--all livin' on good farms, with good, nice
+houses, all got goin' to sea. Expect Mis' Pitkin'll take it sort o' hard,
+she's so sot on you; but she's allers sayin' things is for the best, and
+maybe she'll come to think so 'bout this--folks gen'ally does when they
+can't help themselves. Wal, yis, naow--goin' to walk to the cross-road
+tavern? better not. Jest wait a minit and I'll hitch up and take ye over.
+
+"Thank you, Biah, but I can't stop, and I'd rather walk, so I won't
+trouble you."
+
+"Wal, look here--don't ye want a sort o' nest-egg? I've got fifty silver
+dollars laid up: you take it on venture and give me half what it brings."
+
+"Thank you, Biah. If you'll trust me with it I'll hope to do something
+for us both."
+
+Biah went into the house, and after some fumbling brought out a canvas
+bag, which he put into James's hand.
+
+"Wanted to go to sea confoundedly myself, but there's Mariar Jane--she
+won't hear on't, and turns on the water-works if I peep a single word.
+Farmin's drefful slow, but when a feller's got a gal he's got a cap'n; he
+has to mind orders. So you jest trade and we'll go sheers. I think
+consid'able of you, and I expect you'll make it go as fur as anybody."
+
+"I'll try my best, you may believe, Biah," said James, shaking the hard
+hand heartily, as he turned on his way towards the cross-roads tavern.
+
+The whole village of Maplewood on Thanksgiving Day morning was possessed
+of the fact that James Pitkin had gone off to sea in the _Eastern Star_,
+for Biah had felt all the sense of importance which the possession of a
+startling piece of intelligence gives to one, and took occasion to call
+at the tavern and store on his way up and make the most of his
+information, so that by the time the bell rang for service the news might
+be said to be everywhere. The minister's general custom on Thanksgiving
+Day was to get off a political sermon reviewing the State of New England,
+the United States of America, and Europe, Asia, and Africa; but it may be
+doubted if all the affairs of all these continents produced as much
+sensation among the girls in the singers' seat that day as did the news
+that James Pitkin had gone to sea on a four years' voyage. Curious eyes
+were cast on Diana Pitkin, and many were the whispers and speculations as
+to the part she might have had in the move; and certainly she looked
+paler and graver than usual, and some thought they could detect traces of
+tears on her cheeks. Some noticed in the tones of her voice that day, as
+they rose in the soprano, a tremor and pathos never remarked before--the
+unconscious utterance of a new sense of sorrow, awakened in a soul that
+up to this time had never known a grief.
+
+For the letter had fallen on the heads of the Pitkin household like a
+thunderbolt. Biah came in to breakfast and gave it to Mrs. Pitkin, saying
+that James had handed him that last night, on his way over to take the
+midnight stage to Salem, where he was going to sail on the _Eastern Star_
+to-day--no doubt he's off to sea by this time. A confused sound of
+exclamations went up around the table, while Mrs. Pitkin, pale and calm,
+read the letter and then passed it to her husband without a word. The
+bright, fixed color in Diana's face had meanwhile been slowly ebbing
+away, till, with cheeks and lips pale as ashes, she hastily rose and left
+the table and went to her room. A strange, new, terrible pain--a
+sensation like being choked or smothered--a rush of mixed emotions--a
+fearful sense of some inexorable, unalterable crisis having come of her
+girlish folly--overwhelmed her. Again she remembered the deep tones of
+his good-by, and how she had only mocked at his emotion. She sat down and
+leaned her head on her hands in a tearless, confused sorrow.
+
+Deacon' Pitkin was at first more shocked and overwhelmed than his wife.
+His yesterday's talk with James had no such serious purpose. It had been
+only the escape-valve for his hypochondriac forebodings of the future,
+and nothing was farther from his thoughts than having it bear fruit in
+any such decisive movement on the part of his son. In fact, he secretly
+was proud of his talents and his scholarship, and had set his heart on
+his going through college, and had no more serious purpose in what he
+said the day before than the general one of making his son feel the
+difficulties and straits he was put to for him. Young men were tempted at
+college to be too expensive, he thought, and to forget what it cost their
+parents at home. In short, the whole thing had been merely the passing
+off of a paroxysm of hypochondria, and he had already begun to be
+satisfied that he should raise his interest money that year without
+material difficulty. The letter showed him too keenly the depth of the
+suffering he had inflicted on his son, and when he had read it he cast a
+sort of helpless, questioning look on his wife, and said, after an
+interval of silence:
+
+"Well, mother!"
+
+There was something quite pathetic in the appealing look and voice.'
+
+"Well, father," she answered in subdued tones; "all we can do now is to
+_leave_ it."
+
+LEAVE IT!
+
+Those were words often in that woman's mouth, and they expressed that
+habit of her life which made her victorious over all troubles, that habit
+of trust in the Infinite Will that actually could and did _leave_ every
+accomplished event in His hand, without murmur and without conflict.
+
+If there was any one thing in her uniformly self-denied life that had
+been a personal ambition and a personal desire, it had been that her son
+should have a college education. It was the center of her earthly wishes,
+hopes and efforts. That wish had been cut off in a moment, that hope had
+sunk under her feet, and now only remained to her the task of comforting
+the undisciplined soul whose unguided utterances had wrought the
+mischief. It was not the first time that, wounded by a loving hand in
+this dark struggle of life, she had suppressed the pain of her own hurt
+that he that had wounded her might the better forgive himself.
+
+"Dear father," she said to him, when over and over he blamed himself for
+his yesterday's harsh words to his son, "don't worry about it now; you
+didn't mean it. James is a good boy, and he'll see it right at last; and
+he is in God's hands, and we must leave him there. He overrules all."
+
+When Mrs. Pitkin turned from her husband she sought Diana in her room.
+
+"Oh, cousin! cousin!" said the girl, throwing herself into her arms.
+"_Is_ this true? Is James _gone_? Can't we do _any_ thing? Can't we get
+him back? I've been thinking it over. Oh, if the ship wouldn't sail! and
+I'd go to Salem and beg him to come back, on my knees. Oh, if I had only
+known yesterday! Oh, cousin, cousin! he wanted to talk with me, and I
+wouldn't hear him!--oh, if I only had, I could have persuaded him out of
+it! Oh, why didn't I know?"
+
+"There, there, dear child! We must accept it just as it is, now that it
+is done. Don't feel so. We must try to look at the good."
+
+"Oh, show me that letter," said Diana; and Mrs. Pitkin, hoping to
+tranquilize her, gave her James's note. "He thinks I don't care for him,"
+she said, reading it hastily. "Well, I don't wonder! But I _do_ care! I
+love him better than anybody or anything under the sun, and I never will
+forget him; he's a brave, noble, good man, and I shall love him as long
+as I live--I don't care who knows it! Give me that locket, cousin, and
+write to him that I shall wear it to my grave."
+
+"Dear child, there is no writing to him."
+
+"Oh, dear! that's the worst. Oh, that horrid, horrid sea! It's like
+death--you don't know where they are, and you can't hear from them--and a
+four years' voyage! Oh, dear! oh, dear!"
+
+"Don't, dear child, don't; you distress me," said Mrs. Pitkin.
+
+"Yes, that's just like me," said Diana, wiping her eyes. "Here I am
+thinking only of myself, and you that have had your heart broken are
+trying to comfort me, and trying to comfort Cousin Silas. We have both of
+us scolded and flouted him away, and now you, who suffer the most of
+either of us, spend your breath to comfort us. It's just like you. But,
+cousin, I'll try to be good and comfort you. I'll try to be a daughter to
+you. You need somebody to think of you, for you never think of yourself.
+Let's go in his room," she said, and taking the mother by the hand they
+crossed to the empty room. There was his writing-table, there his
+forsaken books, his papers, some of his clothes hanging in his closet.
+Mrs. Pitkin, opening a drawer, took out a locket hung upon a bit of blue
+ribbon, where there were two locks of hair, one of which Diana recognized
+as her own, and one of James's. She hastily hung it about her neck and
+concealed it in her bosom, laying her hand hard upon it, as if she would
+still the beatings of her heart.
+
+"It seems like a death," she said. "Don't you think the ocean is like
+death--wide, dark, stormy, unknown? We cannot speak to or hear from them
+that are on it."
+
+"But people can and do come back from the sea," said the mother,
+soothingly. "I trust, in God's own time, we shall see James back."
+
+"But what if we never should? Oh, cousin! I can't help thinking of that.
+There was Michael Davis,--you know--the ship was never heard from."
+
+"Well," said the mother, after a moment's pause and a choking down of
+some rising emotion, and turning to a table on which lay a Bible, she
+opened and read: "If I take the wings of the morning and dwell in the
+uttermost parts of the sea, even there shall Thy hand lead me, and Thy
+right hand shall hold me."
+
+The THEE in this psalm was not to her a name, a shadow, a cipher, to
+designate the unknowable--it stood for the inseparable Heart-friend--the
+Father seeing in secret, on whose bosom all her tears of sorrow had been
+shed, the Comforter and Guide forever dwelling in her soul, and giving
+peace where the world gave only trouble.
+
+Diana beheld her face as it had been the face of an angel. She kissed
+her, and turned away in silence.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII.
+
+
+THANKSGIVING AGAIN.
+
+Seven years had passed and once more the Thanksgiving tide was in
+Mapleton. This year it had come cold and frosty. Chill driving autumn
+storms had stripped the painted glories from the trees, and remorseless
+frosts had chased the hardy ranks of the asters and golden-rods back and
+back till scarce a blossom could be found in the deepest and most
+sequestered spots. The great elm over the Pitkin farm-house had been
+stripped of its golden glory, and now rose against the yellow evening
+sky, with its infinite delicacies of net work and tracery, in their way
+quite as beautiful as the full pomp of summer foliage. The air without
+was keen and frosty, and the knotted twigs of the branches knocked
+against the roof and rattled and ticked against the upper window panes as
+the chill evening wind swept through them.
+
+Seven long years had passed since James sailed. Years of watching, of
+waiting, of cheerful patience, at first, and at last of resigned sorrow.
+Once they heard from James, at the first port where the ship stopped. It
+was a letter dear to his mother's heart, manly, resigned and Christian;
+expressing full purpose to work with God in whatever calling he should
+labor, and cheerful hopes of the future. Then came a long, long silence,
+and then tidings that the _Eastern Star_ had been wrecked on a reef in
+the Indian ocean! The mother had given back her treasure into the same
+beloved hands whence she first received him. "I gave him to God, and God
+took him," she said. "I shall have him again in God's time." This was how
+she settled the whole matter with herself. Diana had mourned with all the
+vehement intensity of her being, but out of the deep baptism of sorrow
+she had emerged with a new and nobler nature. The vain, trifling,
+laughing Undine had received a soul and was a true woman. She devoted
+herself to James's mother with an utter self-sacrificing devotion,
+resolved as far as in her lay to be both son and daughter to her. She
+read, and studied, and fitted herself as a teacher in a neighboring
+academy, and persisted in claiming the right of a daughter to place all
+the amount of her earnings in the family purse.
+
+And this year there was special need. With all his care, with all his
+hard work and that of his family, Deacon Silas never had been able to
+raise money to annihilate the debt upon the farm.
+
+There seemed to be a perfect fatality about it. Let them all make what
+exertions they might, just as they were hoping for a sum that should
+exceed the interest and begin the work of settling the principal would
+come some loss that would throw them all back. One year their barn was
+burned just as they had housed their hay. On another a valuable horse
+died, and then there were fits of sickness among the children, and poor
+crops in the field, and low prices in the market; in short, as Biah
+remarked, "The deacon's luck did seem to be a sort o' streaky, for do
+what you might there's always suthin' to put him back." As the younger
+boys grew up the deacon had ceased to hire help, and Biah had transferred
+his services to Squire Jones, a rich landholder in the neighborhood, who
+wanted some one to overlook his place. The increased wages had enabled
+him to give a home to Maria Jane and a start in life to two or three
+sturdy little American citizens who played around his house door.
+Nevertheless, Biah never lost sight of the "deacon's folks" in his
+multifarious cares, and never missed an opportunity either of doing them
+a good turn or of picking up any stray item of domestic news as to how
+matters were going on in that interior. He had privately broached the
+theory to Miss Briskett, "that arter all it was James that Diany (he
+always pronounced all names as if they ended in y) was sot on, and that
+she took it so hard, his goin' off, that it did beat all! Seemed to make
+another gal of her; he shouldn't wonder if she'd come out and jine the
+church." And Diana not long after unconsciously fulfilled Biah's
+predictions.
+
+Of late Biah's good offices had been in special requisition, as the
+deacon had been for nearly a month on a sick bed with one of those
+interminable attacks of typhus fever which used to prevail in old times,
+when the doctor did everything he could to make it certain that a man
+once brought down with sickness never should rise again.
+
+But Silas Pitkin had a constitution derived through an indefinite
+distance from a temperate, hard-working, godly ancestry, and so withstood
+both death and the doctor, and was alive and in a convalescent state,
+which gave hope of his being able to carve the turkey at his Thanksgiving
+dinner.
+
+The evening sunlight was just fading out of the little "keeping-room,"
+adjoining the bed-room, where the convalescent now was able to sit up
+most of the day. A cot bed had been placed there, designed for him to lie
+down upon in intervals of fatigue. At present, however, he was sitting in
+his arm-chair, complacently watching the blaze of the hickory fire, or
+following placidly the motions of his wife's knitting-needles.
+
+There was an air of calmness and repose on his thin, worn features that
+never was there in days of old: the haggard, anxious lines had been
+smoothed away, and that spiritual expression which sickness and sorrow
+sometimes develops on the human face reigned in its place. It was the
+"clear shining after rain."
+
+"Wife," he said, "read me something I can't quite remember out of the
+Bible. It's in the eighth of Deuteronomy, the second verse."
+
+Mrs. Pitkin opened the big family Bible on the stand, and read, "And thou
+shalt remember all the way in which the Lord thy God hath led thee these
+forty years in the wilderness, to humble thee and to prove thee and to
+know what is in thy heart, and whether thou wouldst keep his commandments
+or no. And he humbled thee, and suffered thee to hunger, and fed thee
+with manna, which thou knewest not, neither did thy fathers know, that he
+might make thee know that man doth not live by bread alone, but by every
+word that proceedeth out of the mouth of the Lord doth man live."
+
+"There, that's it," interrupted the deacon. "That's what I've been
+thinking of as I've lain here sick and helpless. I've fought hard to keep
+things straight and clear the farm, but it's pleased the Lord to bring me
+low. I've had to lie still and leave all in his hands."
+
+"And where better could you leave all?" said his wife, with a radiant
+smile.
+
+"Well, just so. I've been saying, 'Here I am, Lord; do with me as seemeth
+to thee good,' and I feel a great quiet now. I think it's doubtful if we
+make up the interest this year. I don't know what Bill may get for the
+hay: but I don't see much prospect of raisin' on't; and yet I don't
+worry. Even if it's the Lord's will to have the place sold up and we be
+turned out in our old age, I don't seem to worry about it. His will be
+done."
+
+There was a sound of rattling wheels at this moment, and anon there came
+a brush and flutter of garments, and Diana rushed in, all breezy with the
+freshness of out-door air, and caught Mrs. Pitkin in her arms and kissed
+her first and then the deacon with effusion.
+
+"Here I come for Thanksgiving," she said, in a rich, clear tone, "and
+here," she added, drawing a roll of bills from her bosom, and putting it
+into the deacon's hand, "here's the interest money for this year. I got
+it all myself, because I wanted to show you I could be good for
+something."
+
+"Thank you, dear daughter," said Mrs. Pitkin. "I felt sure some way would
+be found and now I see _what_." She added, kissing Diana and patting her
+rosy cheek, "a very pleasant, pretty way it is, too."
+
+"I was afraid that Uncle Silas would worry and put himself back again
+about the interest money," said Diana.
+
+"Well, daughter," said the Deacon, "it's a pity we should go through all
+we do in this world and not learn anything by it. I hope the Lord has
+taught me not to worry, but just do my best and leave myself and
+everything else in his hands. We can't help ourselves--we can't make one
+hair white or black. Why should we wear our lives out fretting? If I'd a
+known _that_ years ago it would a been better for us all."
+
+"Never mind, father, you know it now," said his wife, with a face serene
+as a star. In this last gift of quietude of soul to her husband she
+recognized the answer to her prayers of years.
+
+"Well now," said Diana, running to the window, "I should like to know
+what Biah Carter is coming here about."
+
+"Oh, Biah's been very kind to us in this sickness," said Mrs. Pitkin, as
+Biah's feet resounded on the scraper.
+
+"Good evenin', Deacon," said Biah, entering, "Good evenin', Mrs. Pitkin.
+Sarvant, ma'am," to Diana--"how ye all gettin' on?"
+
+"Nicely, Biah--well as can be," said Mrs. Pitkin.
+
+"Wal, you see I was up to the store with some o' Squire Jones's bell
+flowers. Sim Coan he said he wanted some to sell, and so I took up a
+couple o' barrels, and I see the darndest big letter there for the
+Deacon. Miss Briskett she was in, lookin' at it, and so was Deacon
+Simson's wife; she come in arter some cinnamon sticks. Wal, and they all
+looked at it and talked it over, and couldn't none o' 'em for their lives
+think what it's all about, it was sich an almighty thick letter," said
+Biah, drawing out a long, legal-looking envelope and putting it in the
+Deacon's hands.
+
+"I hope there isn't bad news in it," said Silas Pitkin, the color
+flushing apprehensively in his pale cheeks as he felt for his spectacles.
+
+There was an agitated, silent pause while he broke the seals and took out
+two documents. One was the mortgage on his farm and the other a receipt
+in full for the money owed on it! The Deacon turned the papers to and
+fro, gazed on them with a dazed, uncertain air and then said:
+
+"Why, mother, do look! _Is_ this so? Do I read it right?"
+
+"Certainly, you do," said Diana, reading over his shoulder. "Somebody's
+paid that debt, uncle!"
+
+"Thank God!" said Mrs. Pitkin, softly; "He has done it."
+
+"Wal, I swow!" said Biah, after having turned the paper in his hands, "if
+this 'ere don't beat all! There's old Squire Norcross's name on't. It's
+the receipt, full and square. What's come over the old crittur? He must
+a' got religion in his old' age; but if grace made him do _that_, grace
+has done a tough job, that's all; but it's done anyhow! and that's all
+you need to care about. Wal, wal, I must git along hum--Mariar Jane'll be
+wonderin' where I be. Good night, all on ye!" and Biah's retreating wagon
+wheels were off in the distance, rattling furiously, for, notwithstanding
+Maria Jane's wondering, Biah was resolved not to let an hour slip by
+without declaring the wonderful tidings at the store.
+
+The Pitkin family were seated at supper in the big kitchen, all jubilant
+over the recent news. The father, radiant with the pleasantest
+excitement, had for the first time come out to take his place at the
+family board. In the seven years since the beginning of our story the
+Pitkin boys had been growing apace, and now surrounded the table quite an
+army of rosy-cheeked, jolly young fellows, who to-night were in a perfect
+tumult of animal gaiety. Diana twinkled and dimpled and flung her
+sparkles round among them, and there was unbounded jollity.
+
+"Who's that looking in at the window?" called out Sam, aged ten, who sat
+opposite the house door. At that moment the door opened, and a dark
+stranger, bronzed with travel and dressed in foreign-looking garments,
+entered.
+
+He stood one moment, all looking curiously at him, then crossing the
+floor, he kneeled down by Mrs. Pitkin's chair, and throwing off his cap,
+looked her close in the eyes.
+
+"Mother, don't you know me?"
+
+She looked at him one moment with that still earnestness peculiar to
+herself, and then fell into his arms. "O my son, my son!"
+
+There were a few moments of indescribable confusion, during which Diana
+retreated, pale and breathless, to a neighboring window, and stood with
+her hand over the locket which she had always worn upon her heart.
+
+After a few moments he came, and she felt him by her.
+
+"What, cousin!" he said; "no welcome from you?" She gave one look, and he
+took her in his arms. She felt the beating of his heart, and he felt
+hers. Neither spoke, yet each felt at that moment sure of the other.
+
+"I say, boys," said James, "who'll help bring in my sea chest?"
+
+Never was sea chest more triumphantly ushered; it was a contest who
+should get near enough to take some part in it's introduction, and soon
+it was open, and James began distributing its contents.
+
+"There, mother," said he, undoing a heavy black India satin and shaking
+out its folds, "I'm determined you shall have a dress fit for you; and
+here's a real India shawl to go with it. Get those on and you'll look as
+much like a queen among women as you ought to."
+
+Then followed something for every member of the family, received with
+frantic demonstrations of applause and appreciation by the more juvenile.
+
+"Oh, what's that?" said Sam, as a package done up in silk paper and tied
+with silver cord was disclosed.
+
+"That's--oh--that's my wife's wedding-dress," said James, unfolding and
+shaking out a rich satin; "and here's her shawl," drawing out an
+embroidered box, scented with sandal-wood.
+
+The boys all looked at Diana, and Diana laughed and grew pale and red all
+in the same breath, as James, folding back the silk and shawl in their
+boxes, handed them to her.
+
+Mrs. Pitkin laughed and kissed her, and said, gaily, "All right, my
+daughter--just right."
+
+What an evening that was, to be sure! What a confusion of joy and
+gladness! What a half-telling of a hundred things that it would take
+weeks to tell.
+
+James had paid the mortgage and had money to spare; and how he got it
+all, and how he was saved at sea, and where he went, and what befell him
+here and there, he promised to be telling them for six months to come.
+
+"Well, your father mustn't be kept up too late," said Mrs. Pitkin. "Let's
+have prayers now, and then to-morrow we'll be fresh to talk more."
+
+So they gathered around the wide kitchen fire and the family Bible was
+brought out.
+
+"Father," said James, drawing out of his pocket the Bible his mother had
+given him at parting, "let me read my Psalm; it has been my Psalm ever
+since I left you." There was a solemn thrill in the little circle as
+James read the verses:
+
+"They that go down to the sea in ships, that do business in great waters;
+these see the works of the Lord and his wonders in the deep. For he
+commandeth and raiseth the stormy wind which lifteth up the waves
+thereof. They mount up to the heaven; they go down again to the depths:
+their soul is melted because of trouble. Then they cry unto the Lord in
+their trouble, and he bringeth them out of their distresses. He maketh
+the storm a calm, so that the waves thereof are still. Then are they glad
+because they be quiet, so he bringeth them unto their desired haven. Oh
+that men would praise the Lord for his goodness, and for his wonderful
+works to the children of men!"
+
+ * * * * *
+
+When all had left the old kitchen, James and Diana sat by the yet glowing
+hearth and listened to the crickets, and talked over all the past and the
+future.
+
+"And now," said James, "it's seven years since I left you, and to-morrow
+is the seventh Thanksgiving, and I've always set my heart on getting home
+to be married Thanksgiving evening."
+
+"But, dear me, Jim, we can't. There isn't time."
+
+"Why not?--we've got all the time there is!"
+
+"But the wedding-dress can't be made, possibly."
+
+"Oh, that can wait till the week after. You are pretty enough without
+it!"
+
+"But what will they all say?"
+
+"Who cares what they say? I don't," said James. "The fact is, I've set my
+heart on it, and you owe me something for the way you treated me the last
+Thanksgiving I was here, seven years ago. Now don't you?"
+
+"Well, yes, I do, so have it just as you will." And so it was accomplished
+the next evening.
+
+And among the wonders of Mapleton Miss Briskett announced it as chief,
+that it was the first time she ever heard of a bride that was married
+first and had her wedding-dress made the week after! She never had heard
+of such a thing.
+
+Yet, strange to say, for years after neither of the parties concerned
+found themselves a bit the worse for it.
+
+
+
+
+
+THE FIRST CHRISTMAS OF NEW ENGLAND.
+
+
+The shores of the Atlantic coast of America may well be a terror to
+navigators. They present an inexorable wall, against which forbidding and
+angry waves incessantly dash, and around which shifting winds continually
+rave. The approaches to safe harbors are few in number, intricate and
+difficult, requiring the skill of practiced pilots.
+
+But, as if with a pitying spirit of hospitality, old Cape Cod, breaking
+from the iron line of the coast, like a generous-hearted sailor intent on
+helpfulness, stretches an hundred miles outward, and, curving his
+sheltering arms in a protective circle, gives a noble harborage. Of this
+harbor of Cape Cod the report of our governmental Coast Survey thus
+speaks: "It is one of the finest harbors for ships of war on the whole of
+our Atlantic coast. The width and freedom from obstruction of every kind
+at its entrance and the extent of sea room upon the bay side make it
+accessible to vessels of the largest class in almost all winds. This
+advantage, its capacity, depth of water, excellent anchorage, and the
+complete shelter it affords from all winds, render it one of the most
+valuable ship harbors upon our coast."
+
+We have been thus particular in our mention of this place, because here,
+in this harbor, opened the first scene in the most wonderful drama of
+modern history.
+
+Let us look into the magic mirror of the past and see this harbor of Cape
+Cod on the morning of the 11th of November, in the year of our Lord 1620,
+as described to us in the simple words of the pilgrims: "A pleasant bay,
+circled round, except the entrance, which is about four miles over from
+land to land, _compassed about to the very sea_ with oaks, pines,
+junipers, sassafras, and other sweet weeds. It is a harbor wherein a
+thousand sail of ship may safely ride."
+
+Such are the woody shores of Cape Cod as we look back upon them in that
+distant November day, and the harbor lies like a great crystal gem on the
+bosom of a virgin wilderness. The "fir trees, the pine trees, and the
+bay," rejoice together in freedom, for as yet the axe has spared them; in
+the noble bay no shipping has found shelter; no voice or sound of
+civilized man has broken the sweet calm of the forest. The oak leaves,
+now turned to crimson and maroon by the autumn frosts, reflect themselves
+in flushes of color on the still waters. The golden leaves of the
+sassafras yet cling to the branches, though their life has passed, and
+every brushing wind bears showers of them down to the water. Here and
+there the dark spires of the cedar and the green leaves and red berries
+of the holly contrast with these lighter tints. The forest foliage grows
+down to the water's edge, so that the dash of the rising and falling tide
+washes into the shaggy cedar boughs which here and there lean over and
+dip in the waves.
+
+No voice or sound from earth or sky proclaims that anything unwonted is
+coming or doing on these shores to-day. The wandering Indians, moving
+their hunting-camps along the woodland paths, saw no sign in the stars
+that morning, and no different color in the sunrise from what had been in
+the days of their fathers. Panther and wild-cat under their furry coats
+felt no thrill of coming dispossession, and saw nothing through their
+great golden eyes but the dawning of a day just like all other days--when
+"the sun ariseth and they gather themselves into their dens and lay them
+down." And yet alike to Indian, panther, and wild-cat, to every oak of
+the forest, to every foot of land in America, from the stormy Atlantic to
+the broad Pacific, that day was a day of days.
+
+There had been stormy and windy weather, but now dawned on the earth one
+of those still, golden times of November, full of dreamy rest and tender
+calm. The skies above were blue and fair, and the waters of the curving
+bay were a downward sky--a magical under-world, wherein the crimson oaks,
+and the dusk plumage of the pine, and the red holly-berries, and yellow
+sassafras leaves, all flickered and glinted in wavering bands of color as
+soft winds swayed the glassy floor of waters.
+
+In a moment, there is heard in the silent bay a sound of a rush and
+ripple, different from the lap of the many-tongued waves on the shore;
+and, silently as a cloud, with white wings spread, a little vessel glides
+into the harbor.
+
+A little craft is she--not larger than the fishing-smacks that ply their
+course along our coasts in summer; but her decks are crowded with men,
+women, and children, looking out with joyous curiosity on the beautiful
+bay, where, after many dangers and storms, they first have found safe
+shelter and hopeful harbor.
+
+That small, unknown ship was the _Mayflower;_ those men and women who
+crowded her decks were that little handful of God's own wheat which had
+been flailed by adversity, tossed and winnowed till every husk of earthly
+selfishness and self-will had been beaten away from them and left only
+pure seed, fit for the planting of a new world. It was old Master Cotton
+Mather who said of them, "The Lord sifted three countries to find seed
+wherewith to plant America."
+
+Hark now to the hearty cry of the sailors, as with a plash and a cheer
+the anchor goes down, just in the deep water inside of Long Point; and
+then, says their journal, "being now passed the vast ocean and sea of
+troubles, before their preparation unto further proceedings as to seek
+out a place for habitation, they fell down on their knees and blessed the
+Lord, the God of heaven, who had brought them over the vast and furious
+ocean, and delivered them from all perils and miseries thereof."
+
+Let us draw nigh and mingle with this singular act of worship. Elder
+Brewster, with his well-worn Geneva Bible in hand, leads the thanksgiving
+in words which, though thousands of years old, seem as if written for the
+occasion of that hour:
+
+"Praise the Lord because he is good, for his mercy endureth forever. Let
+them which have been redeemed of the Lord show how he delivereth them
+from the hand of the oppressor, And gathered them out of the lands: from
+the east, and from the west, from the north, and from the south, when
+they wandered in deserts and wildernesses out of the way and found no
+city to dwell in. Both hungry and thirsty, their soul failed in them.
+Then they cried unto the Lord in their troubles, and he delivered them in
+their distresses. And led them forth by the right way, that they might go
+unto a city of habitation. They that go down to the sea and occupy by the
+great waters: they see the works of the Lord and his wonders in the deep.
+For he commandeth and raiseth the stormy wind, and it lifteth up the
+waves thereof. They mount up to heaven, and descend to the deep: so that
+their soul melteth for trouble. They are tossed to and fro, and stagger
+like a drunken man, and all their cunning is gone. Then they cry unto the
+Lord in their trouble, and he bringeth them out of their distresses. He
+turneth the storm to a calm, so that the waves thereof are still. When
+they are quieted they are glad, and he bringeth them unto the haven where
+they would be."
+
+As yet, the treasures of sacred song which are the liturgy of modern
+Christians had not arisen in the church. There was no Watts, and no
+Wesley, in the days of the Pilgrims; they brought with them in each
+family, as the most precious of household possessions, a thick volume
+containing, first, the Book of Common Prayer, with the Psalter appointed
+to be read in churches; second, the whole Bible in the Geneva
+translation, which was the basis on which our present English translation
+was made; and, third, the Psalms of David, in meter, by Sternhold and
+Hopkins, with the music notes of the tunes, adapted to singing. Therefore
+it was that our little band were able to lift up their voices together in
+song and that the noble tones of Old Hundred for the first time floated
+over the silent bay and mingled with the sound of winds and waters,
+consecrating our American shores.
+
+"All people that on earth do dwell,
+ Sing to the Lord with cheerful voice:
+Him serve with fear, His praise forthtell;
+ Come ye before Him and rejoice.
+
+"The Lord, ye know, is God indeed;
+ Without our aid He did us make;
+We are His flock, He doth us feed,
+ And for his sheep He doth us take.
+
+"O enter then His gates with praise,
+ Approach with joy His courts unto:
+Praise, laud, and bless His name always,
+ For it is seemly so to do.
+
+"For why? The Lord our God is good,
+ His mercy is forever sure;
+His truth at all times firmly stood,
+ And shall from age to age endure."
+
+This grand hymn rose and swelled and vibrated in the still November air;
+while in between the pauses came the warble of birds, the scream of the
+jay, the hoarse call of hawk and eagle, going on with their forest ways
+all unmindful of the new era which had been ushered in with those solemn
+sounds.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II.
+
+
+THE FIRST DAY ON SHORE.
+
+The sound of prayer and psalm-singing died away on the shore, and the
+little band, rising from their knees, saluted each other in that genial
+humor which always possesses a ship's company when they have weathered
+the ocean and come to land together.
+
+"Well, Master Jones, here we' are," said Elder Brewster cheerily to the
+ship-master.
+
+"Aye, aye, sir, here we be sure enough; but I've had many a shrewd doubt
+of this upshot. I tell you, sirs, when that beam amidships sprung and
+cracked Master Coppin here said we must give over--hands couldn't bring
+her through. Thou rememberest, Master Coppin?"
+
+"That I do," replied Master Coppin, the first mate, a stocky, cheery
+sailor, with a face red and shining as a glazed bun. "I said then that
+praying might save her, perhaps, but nothing else would."
+
+"Praying wouldn't have saved her," said Master Brown, the carpenter, "if
+I had not put in that screw and worked the beam to her place again."
+
+"Aye, aye, Master Carpenter," said Elder Brewster, "the Lord hath
+abundance of the needful ever to his hand. When He wills to answer
+prayer, there will be found both carpenter and screws in their season, I
+trow."
+
+"Well, Deb," said Master Coppin, pinching the ear of a great mastiff
+bitch who sat by him, "what sayest thou? Give us thy mind on it, old
+girl; say, wilt thou go deer-hunting with us yonder?"
+
+The dog, who was full of the excitement of all around, wagged her tail
+and gave three tremendous barks, whereat a little spaniel with curly
+ears, that stood by Rose Standish, barked aloud.
+
+"Well done!" said Captain Miles Standish. "Why, here is a salute of
+ordnance! Old Deb is in the spirit of the thing and opens out like a
+cannon. The old girl is spoiling for a chase in those woods."
+
+"Father, may I go ashore? I want to see the country," said Wrestling
+Brewster, a bright, sturdy boy, creeping up to Elder Brewster and
+touching his father's elbow.
+
+Thereat there was a crying to the different mothers of girls and boys
+tired of being cooped up,--"Oh, mother, mother, ask that we may all go
+ashore."
+
+"For my part," said old Margery the serving-maid to Elder Brewster, "I
+want to go ashore to wash and be decent, for there isn't a soul of us
+hath anything fit for Christians. There be springs of water, I trow."
+
+"Never doubt it, my woman," said Elder Brewster; "but all things in their
+order. How say you, Mr. Carver? You are our governor. What order shall we
+take?"
+
+"We must have up the shallop," said Carver, "and send a picked company to
+see what entertainment there may be for us on shore."
+
+"And I counsel that all go well armed," quoth Captain Miles Standish,
+"for these men of the forest are sharper than a thorn-hedge. What! what!"
+he said, looking over to the eager group of girls and boys, "ye would go
+ashore, would ye? Why, the lions and bears will make one mouthful of ye."
+
+"I'm not afraid of lions," said young Wrestling Brewster in an aside to
+little Love Winslow, a golden-haired, pale-cheeked child, of a tender and
+spiritual beauty of face. "I'd like to meet a lion," he added, "and serve
+him as Samson did. I'd get honey out of him, I promise."
+
+"Oh, there you are, young Master Boastful!" said old Margery. "Mind the
+old saying, 'Brag is a good dog, but holdfast is better.'"
+
+"Dear husband," said Rose Standish, "wilt thou go ashore in this
+company?"
+
+"Why, aye, sweetheart, what else am I come for--and who should go if not
+I?"
+
+"Thou art so very venturesome, Miles."
+
+"Even so, my Rose of the wilderness. Why else am I come on this quest?
+Not being good enough to be in your church nor one of the saints, I come
+for an arm of flesh to them, and so, here goes on my armor."
+
+And as he spoke, he buried his frank, good-natured countenance in an iron
+headpiece, and Rose hastened to help him adjust his corselet.
+
+The clang of armor, the bustle and motion of men and children, the
+barking of dogs, and the cheery Heave-o! of the sailors marked the
+setting off of the party which comprised some of the gravest, and wisest,
+as well as the youngest and most able-bodied of the ship's' company. The
+impatient children ran in a group and clustered on the side of the ship
+to see them go. Old Deb, with her two half-grown pups, barked and yelped
+after her master in the boat, running up and down the vessel's deck with
+piteous cries of impatience.
+
+"Come hither, dear old Deb," said little Love Winslow, running up and
+throwing her arms round the dog's rough neck; "thou must not take on so;
+thy master will be back again; so be a good dog now, and lie down."
+
+And the great rough mastiff quieted down under her caresses, and sitting
+down by her she patted and played with her, with her little thin hands.
+
+"See the darling," said Rose Standish, "what away that baby hath! In all
+the roughness and the terrors of the sea she hath been like a little
+sunbeam to us--yet she is so frail!"
+
+"She hath been marked in the womb by the troubles her mother bore," said
+old Margery, shaking her head. "She never had the ways of other babies,
+but hath ever that wistful look--and her eyes are brighter than they
+should be. Mistress Winslow will never raise that child--now mark me!"
+
+"Take care!" said Rose, "let not her mother hear you."
+
+"Why, look at her beside of Wrestling Brewster, or Faith Carver. They are
+flesh and blood, and she looks as if she had been made out of sunshine.
+'Tis a sweet babe as ever was; but fitter for the kingdom of heaven than
+our rough life--deary me! a hard time we have had of it. I suppose it's
+all best, but I don't know."
+
+"Oh, never talk that way, Margery," said Rose Standish; "we must all keep
+up heart, our own and one another's."
+
+"Ah, well a day--I suppose so, but then I look at my good Master Brewster
+and remember how, when I was a girl, he was at our good Queen Elizabeth's
+court, ruffling it with the best, and everybody said that there wasn't a
+young man that had good fortune to equal his. Why, Master Davidson, the
+Queen's Secretary of State, thought all the world of him; and when he
+went to Holland on the Queen's business, he must take him along; and when
+he took the keys of the cities there, it was my master that he trusted
+them to, who used to sleep with them under his pillow. I remember when he
+came home to the Queen's court, wearing the great gold chain that the
+States had given him. Ah me! I little thought he would ever come to a
+poor man's coat, then!"
+
+"Well, good Margery," said Rose, "it isn't the coat, but the heart under
+it--that's the thing. Thou hast more cause of pride in thy master's
+poverty than in his riches."
+
+"Maybe so--I don't know," said Margery, "but he hath had many a sore
+trouble in worldly things--driven and hunted from place to place in
+England, clapt into prison, and all he had eaten up with fines and
+charges and costs."
+
+"All that is because he chose rather to suffer affliction with the people
+of God than to enjoy the pleasures of sin for a season," said Rose; "he
+shall have his reward by and by."
+
+"Well, there be good men and godly in Old England that get to heaven in
+better coats and with easy carriages and fine houses and servants, and I
+would my master had been of such. But if he must come to the wilderness I
+will come with him. Gracious me! what noise is that?" she exclaimed, as a
+sudden report of firearms from below struck her ear. "I do believe there
+is that Frank Billington at the gunpowder; that boy will never leave, I
+do believe, till he hath blown up the ship's company."
+
+In fact, it appeared that young master Frank, impatient of the absence of
+his father, had toled Wrestling Brewster and two other of the boys down
+into the cabin to show them his skill in managing his father's fowling-
+piece, had burst the gun, scattering the pieces about the cabin.
+
+Margery soon appeared, dragging the culprit after her. "Look here now,
+Master Malapert, see what you'll get when your father comes home! Lord a
+mercy! here was half a keg of powder standing open! Enough to have blown
+us all up! Here, Master Clarke, Master Clarke, come and keep this boy
+with you till his father come back, or we be all sent sky high before we
+know."
+
+ * * * *
+
+At even tide the boat came back laden to the water's edge with the first
+gettings and givings from the new soil of America. There is a richness
+and sweetness gleaming through the brief records of these men in their
+journals, which shows how the new land was seen through a fond and tender
+medium, half poetic; and its new products lend a savor to them of
+somewhat foreign and rare.
+
+Of this day's expedition the record is thus:
+
+"That day, so soon as we could, we set ashore some fifteen or sixteen men
+well armed, with some to fetch wood, for we had none left; as also to see
+what the land was and what inhabitants they could meet with. They found
+it to be a small neck of land on this side where we lay in the bay, and
+on the further side the sea, the ground or earth, sand-hills, much like
+the downs in Holland, but much better; the crust of the earth a spit's
+depth of excellent black earth; all wooded with oaks, pines, sassafras,
+juniper, birch, holly, vines, some ash and walnut; the wood for the most
+part open and without underwood, fit either to walk or to ride in. At
+night our people returned and found not any people or inhabitants, and
+laded their boat with juniper, which smelled very sweet and strong, and
+of which we burned for the most part while we were there."
+
+"See there," said little Love Winslow, "what fine red berries Captain
+Miles Standish hath brought."
+
+"Yea, my little maid, there is a brave lot of holly berries for thee to
+dress the cabin withal. We shall not want for Christmas greens here,
+though the houses and churches are yet to come."
+
+"Yea, Brother Miles," said Elder Brewster, "the trees of the Lord are
+full of sap in this land, even the cedars of Lebanon, which he hath
+planted. It hath the look to me of a land which the Lord our God hath
+blessed."
+
+"There is a most excellent depth of black, rich earth," said Carver, "and
+a great tangle of grapevines, whereon the leaves in many places yet hung,
+and we picked up stores of walnuts under a tree--not so big as our
+English ones--but sweet and well-flavored."
+
+"Know ye, brethren, what in this land smelleth sweetest to me?" said
+Elder Brewster. "It is the smell of liberty. The soil is free--no man
+hath claim thereon. In Old England a poor man may starve right on his
+mother's bosom; there may be stores of fish in the river, and bird and
+fowl flying, and deer running by, and yet though a man's children be
+crying for bread, an' he catch a fish or snare a bird, he shall be
+snatched up and hanged. This is a sore evil in Old England; but we will
+make a country here for the poor to dwell in, where the wild fruits and
+fish and fowl shall be the inheritance of whosoever will have them; and
+every man shall have his portion of our good mother earth, with no lords
+and no bishops to harry and distrain, and worry with taxes and tythes."
+
+"Amen, brother!" said Miles Standish, "and thereto I give my best
+endeavors with sword and buckler."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III.
+
+
+CHRISTMAS TIDE IN PLYMOUTH HARBOR.
+
+For the rest of that month of November the _Mayflower_ lay at anchor in
+Cape Cod harbor, and formed a floating home for the women and children,
+while the men were out exploring the country, with a careful and steady
+shrewdness and good sense, to determine where should be the site of the
+future colony. The record of their adventures is given in their journals
+with that sweet homeliness of phrase which hangs about the Old English of
+that period like the smell of rosemary in an ancient cabinet.
+
+We are told of a sort of picnic day, when "our women went on shore to
+wash and all to refresh themselves;" and fancy the times there must have
+been among the little company, while the mothers sorted and washed and
+dried the linen, and the children, under the keeping of the old mastiffs
+and with many cautions against the wolves and wild cubs, once more had
+liberty to play in the green wood. For it appears in these journals how,
+in one case, the little spaniel of John Goodman was chased by two wolves,
+and was fain to take refuge between his master's legs for shelter.
+Goodman "had nothing in hand," says the journal, "but took up a stick and
+threw at one of them and hit him, and they presently ran away, but came
+again. He got a pale-board in his hand, but they both sat on their tails
+a good while, grinning at him, and then went their way and left him."
+
+Such little touches show what the care of families must have been in the
+woodland picnics, and why the ship was, on the whole, the safest refuge
+for the women and children.
+
+We are told, moreover, how the party who had struck off into the
+wilderness, "having marched through boughs and bushes and under hills and
+valleys which tore our very armor in pieces, yet could meet with no
+inhabitants nor find any fresh water which we greatly stood in need of,
+for we brought neither beer nor water with us, and our victual was only
+biscuit and Holland cheese, and a little bottle of aqua vitae. So we were
+sore athirst. About ten o'clock we came into a deep valley full of brush,
+sweet gaile and long grass, through which we found little paths or
+tracks; and we saw there a deer and found springs of water, of which we
+were heartily glad, and sat us down and drunk our first New England water
+with as much delight as we ever drunk drink in all our lives."
+
+Three such expeditions through the country, with all sorts of haps and
+mishaps and adventures, took up the time until near the 15th of December,
+when, having selected a spot for their colony, they weighed anchor to go
+to their future home.
+
+Plymouth Harbor, as they found it, is thus described:
+
+"This harbor is a bay greater than Cape Cod, compassed with a goodly
+land, and in the bay two fine islands uninhabited, wherein are nothing
+but woods, oaks, pines, walnuts, beeches, sassafras, vines, and other
+trees which we know not. The bay is a most hopeful place, innumerable
+stores of fowl, and excellent good; and it cannot but be of fish in their
+season. Skate, cod, and turbot, and herring we have tasted of--abundance
+of mussels (clams) the best we ever saw; and crabs and lobsters in their
+time, infinite."
+
+On the main land they write:
+
+"The land is, for a spit's depth, excellent black mould and fat in some
+places. Two or three great oaks, pines, walnut, beech, ash, birch, hazel,
+holly, and sassafras in abundance, and vines everywhere, with cherry-
+trees, plum-trees, and others which we know not. Many kind of herbs we
+found here in winter, as strawberry leaves innumerable, sorrel, yarrow,
+carvel, brook-lime, liver-wort, water-cresses, with great store of leeks
+and onions, and an excellent strong kind of flax and hemp."
+
+It is evident from this description that the season was a mild one even
+thus late into December, that there was still sufficient foliage hanging
+upon the trees to determine the species, and that the pilgrims viewed
+their new mother-land through eyes of cheerful hope.
+
+And now let us look in the glass at them once more, on Saturday morning
+of the 23d of December.
+
+The little _Mayflower_ lies swinging at her moorings in the harbor, while
+every man and boy who could use a tool has gone on shore to cut down and
+prepare timber for future houses.
+
+Mary Winslow and Rose Standish are sitting together on deck, fashioning
+garments, while little Love Winslow is playing at their feet with such
+toys as the new world afforded her--strings of acorns and scarlet holly-
+berries and some bird-claws and arrowheads and bright-colored ears of
+Indian corn, which Captain Miles Standish has brought home to her from
+one of their explorations.
+
+Through the still autumnal air may now and then be heard the voices of
+men calling to one another on shore, the quick, sharp ring of axes, and
+anon the crash of falling trees, with shouts from juveniles as the great
+forest monarch is laid low. Some of the women are busy below, sorting
+over and arranging their little household stores and stuff with a view to
+moving on shore, and holding domestic consultations with each other.
+
+A sadness hangs over the little company, for since their arrival the
+stroke of death has more than once fallen; we find in Bradford's brief
+record that by the 24th of December six had died.
+
+What came nearest to the hearts of all was the loss of Dorothea Bradford,
+who, when all the men of the party were absent on an exploring tour,
+accidentally fell over the side of the vessel and sunk in the deep
+waters. What this loss was to the husband and the little company of
+brothers and sisters appears by no note or word of wailing, merely by a
+simple entry which says no more than the record on a gravestone, that,
+"on the 7th of December, Dorothy, wife of William Bradford, fell over and
+was drowned."
+
+That much-enduring company could afford themselves few tears. Earthly
+having and enjoying was a thing long since dismissed from their
+calculations. They were living on the primitive Christian platform; they
+"rejoiced as though they rejoiced not," and they "wept as though they
+wept not," and they "had wives and children as though they had them not,"
+or, as one of themselves expressed it, "We are in all places strangers,
+pilgrims, travelers and sojourners; our dwelling is but a wandering, our
+abiding but as a fleeting, our home is nowhere but in the heavens, in
+that house not made with hands, whose builder and maker is God."
+
+When one of their number fell they were forced to do as soldiers in the
+stress of battle--close up the ranks and press on.
+
+But Mary Winslow, as she sat over her sewing, dropped now and then a tear
+down on her work for the loss of her sister and counselor and long-tried
+friend. From the lower part of the ship floated up, at intervals,
+snatches of an old English ditty that Margery was singing while she moved
+to and fro about her work, one of those genuine English melodies, full of
+a rich, strange mournfulness blent with a soothing pathos:
+
+"Fear no more the heat o' the sun
+ Nor the furious winter rages,
+Thou thy worldly task hast done,
+ Home art gone and ta'en thy wages."
+
+The air was familiar, and Mary Winslow, dropping her work in her lap,
+involuntarily joined in it:
+
+"Fear no more the frown of the great,
+ Thou art past the tyrant's stroke;
+Care no more to clothe and eat,
+ To thee the reed is as the oak."
+
+"There goes a great tree on shore!" quoth little Love Winslow, clapping
+her hands. "Dost hear, mother? I've been counting the strokes--fifteen--
+and then crackle! crackle! crackle! and down it comes!"
+
+"Peace, darling," said Mary Winslow; "hear what old Margery is singing
+below:
+
+"Fear no more the lightning's flash,
+ Nor the all-dreaded thunder stone;
+Fear not slander, censure rash--
+ Thou hast finished joy and moan.
+All lovers young--all lovers must
+ Consign to thee, and come to dust."
+
+"Why do you cry, mother?" said the little one, climbing on her lap and
+wiping her tears.
+
+"I was thinking of dear Auntie, who is gone from us."
+
+"She is not gone from us, mother."
+
+"My darling, she is with Jesus."
+
+"Well, mother, Jesus is ever with us--you tell me that--and if she is
+with him she is with us too--I know she is--for sometimes I see her. She
+sat by me last night and stroked my head when that ugly, stormy wind
+waked me--she looked so sweet, oh, ever so beautiful!--and she made me go
+to sleep so quiet--it is sweet to be as she is, mother--not away from us
+but with Jesus."
+
+"These little ones see further in the kingdom than we," said Rose
+Standish. "If we would be like them, we should take things easier. When
+the Lord would show who was greatest in his kingdom, he took a little
+child on his lap."
+
+"Ah me, Rose!" said Mary Winslow, "I am aweary in spirit with this
+tossing sea-life. I long to have a home on dry land once more, be it ever
+so poor. The sea wearies me. Only think, it is almost Christmas time,
+only two days now to Christmas. How shall we keep it in these woods?"
+
+"Aye, aye," said old Margery, coming up at the moment, "a brave muster
+and to do is there now in old England; and men and boys going forth
+singing and bearing home branches of holly, and pine, and mistletoe for
+Christmas greens. Oh! I remember I used to go forth with them and help
+dress the churches. God help the poor children, they will grow up in the
+wilderness and never see such brave sights as I have. They will never
+know what a church is, such as they are in old England, with fine old
+windows like the clouds, and rainbows, and great wonderful arches like
+the very skies above us, and the brave music with the old organs rolling
+and the boys marching in white garments and singing so as should draw the
+very heart out of one. All this we have left behind in old England--ah!
+well a day! well a day!"
+
+"Oh, but, Margery," said Mary Winslow, "we have a 'better country' than
+old England, where the saints and angels are keeping Christmas; we
+confess that we are strangers and pilgrims on earth."
+
+And Rose Standish immediately added the familiar quotation from the
+Geneva Bible:
+
+"For they that say such things declare plainly that they seek a country.
+For if they had been mindful of that country from whence they came out
+they had leisure to have returned. But now they desire a better--that is,
+an heavenly; wherefore God is not ashamed of them to be called their
+God."
+
+The fair young face glowed as she repeated the heroic words, for already,
+though she knew it not, Rose Standish was feeling the approaching sphere
+of the angel life. Strong in spirit, as delicate in frame, she had given
+herself and drawn her martial husband to the support of a great and noble
+cause; but while the spirit was ready, the flesh was weak, and even at
+that moment her name was written in the Lamb's Book to enter the higher
+life, in one short month's time from that Christmas.
+
+Only one month of sweetness and perfume was that sweet rose to shed over
+the hard and troubled life of the pilgrims, for the saints and angels
+loved her, and were from day to day gently untying mortal bands to draw
+her to themselves. Yet was there nothing about her of mournfulness; on
+the contrary, she was ever alert and bright, with a ready tongue to cheer
+and a helpful hand to do; and, seeing the sadness that seemed stealing
+over Mary Winslow, she struck another key, and, catching little Love up
+in her arms, said cheerily,
+
+"Come hither, pretty one, and Rose will sing thee a brave carol for
+Christmas. We won't be down-hearted, will we? Hark now to what the
+minstrels used to sing under my window when I was a little girl:
+
+"I saw three ships come sailing in
+On Christmas day, on Christmas day,
+I saw three ships come sailing in
+On Christmas day in the morning.
+
+"And what was in those ships all three
+On Christmas day, on Christmas day,
+And what was in those ships all three
+On Christmas day in the morning?
+
+"Our Saviour Christ and his laydie,
+On Christmas day, on Christmas day,
+Our Saviour Christ and his laydie
+On Christmas day in the morning.
+
+"Pray, whither sailed those ships all three,
+On Christmas day, on Christmas day?
+Oh, they sailed into Bethlehem,
+On Christmas day in the morning.
+
+"And all the bells on earth shall ring
+On Christmas day, on Christmas day;
+And all the angels in heaven shall sing
+On Christmas day in the morning.
+
+"Then let us all rejoice amain,
+On Christmas day, on Christmas day;
+Then let us all rejoice amain
+On Christmas day in the morning."
+
+"Now, isn't that a brave ballad?" said Rose. "Yea, and thou singest like
+a real English robin," said Margery, "to do the heart good to hear thee."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV.
+
+
+ELDER BREWSTER'S CHRISTMAS SERMON.
+
+Sunday morning found the little company gathered once more on the ship,
+with nothing to do but rest and remember their homes, temporal and
+spiritual--homes backward, in old England, and forward, in Heaven. They
+were, every man and woman of them, English to the back-bone. From Captain
+Jones who commanded the ship to Elder Brewster who ruled and guided in
+spiritual affairs, all alike were of that stock and breeding which made
+the Englishman of the days of Bacon and Shakespeare, and in those days
+Christmas was knit into the heart of every one of them by a thousand
+threads, which no after years could untie.
+
+Christmas carols had been sung to them by nurses and mothers and
+grandmothers; the Christmas holly spoke to them from every berry and
+prickly leaf, full of dearest household memories. Some of them had been
+men of substance among the English gentry, and in their prosperous days
+had held high festival in ancestral halls in the season of good cheer.
+Elder Brewster himself had been a rising young diplomat in the court of
+Elizabeth, in the days when the Lord Keeper of the Seals led the revels
+of Christmas as Lord of Misrule.
+
+So that, though this Sunday morning arose gray and lowering, with snow-
+flakes hovering through the air, there was Christmas in the thoughts of
+every man and woman among them--albeit it was the Christmas of wanderers
+and exiles in a wilderness looking back to bright home-fires across
+stormy waters.
+
+The men had come back from their work on shore with branches of green
+pine and holly, and the women had, stuck them about the ship, not without
+tearful thoughts of old home-places, where their childhood fathers and
+mothers did the same.
+
+Bits and snatches of Christmas carols were floating all around the ship,
+like land-birds blown far out to sea. In the forecastle Master Coppin was
+singing:
+
+"Come, bring with a noise,
+ My merry boys,
+ The Christmas log to the firing;
+ While my good dame, she
+ Bids ye all be free,
+ And drink to your hearts' desiring.
+ Drink now the strong beer,
+ Cut the white loaf here.
+ The while the meat is shredding
+ For the rare minced pie,
+ And the plums stand by
+ To fill the paste that's a-kneading."
+
+"Ah, well-a-day, Master Jones, it is dull cheer to sing Christmas songs
+here in the woods, with only the owls and the bears for choristers. I
+wish I could hear the bells of merry England once more."
+
+And down in the cabin Rose Standish was hushing little Peregrine, the
+first American-born baby, with a Christmas lullaby:
+
+"This winter's night
+I saw a sight--
+ A star as bright as day;
+And ever among
+A maiden sung,
+ Lullay, by-by, lullay!
+
+"This lovely laydie sat and sung,
+ And to her child she said,
+My son, my brother, and my father dear,
+ Why lyest thou thus in hayd?
+My sweet bird,
+Tho' it betide
+ Thou be not king veray;
+But nevertheless
+I will not cease
+ To sing, by-by, lullay!
+
+"The child then spake in his talking,
+ And to his mother he said,
+It happeneth, mother, I am a king,
+ In crib though I be laid,
+For angels bright
+Did down alight,
+ Thou knowest it is no nay;
+And of that sight
+Thou may'st be light
+ To sing, by-by, lullay!
+
+"Now, sweet son, since thou art a king,
+ Why art thou laid in stall?
+Why not ordain thy bedding
+ In some great king his hall?
+We thinketh 'tis right
+That king or knight
+ Should be in good array;
+And them among,
+It were no wrong
+ To sing, by-by, lullay!
+
+"Mary, mother, I am thy child,
+ Tho' I be laid in stall;
+Lords and dukes shall worship me,
+ And so shall kinges all.
+And ye shall see
+That kinges three
+ Shall come on the twelfth day;
+For this behest
+Give me thy breast,
+ And sing, by-by, lullay!"
+
+"See here," quoth Miles Standish, "when my Rose singeth, the children
+gather round her like bees round a flower. Come, let us all strike up a
+goodly carol together. Sing one, sing all, girls and boys, and get a bit
+of Old England's Christmas before to-morrow, when we must to our work on
+shore."
+
+Thereat Rose struck up a familiar ballad-meter of a catching rhythm, and
+every voice of young and old was soon joining in it:
+
+"Behold a silly,[1] tender Babe,
+ In freezing winter night,
+In homely manger trembling lies;
+ Alas! a piteous sight,
+The inns are full, no man will yield
+ This little Pilgrim bed;
+But forced He is, with silly beasts
+ In crib to shroud His head.
+Despise Him not for lying there,
+ First what He is inquire:
+An orient pearl is often found
+ In depth of dirty mire.
+
+"Weigh not His crib, His wooden dish,
+ Nor beasts that by Him feed;
+Weigh not His mother's poor attire,
+ Nor Joseph's simple weed.
+This stable is a Prince's court,
+ The crib His chair of state,
+The beasts are parcel of His pomp,
+ The wooden dish His plate.
+The persons in that poor attire
+ His royal liveries wear;
+The Prince Himself is come from Heaven,
+ This pomp is prized there.
+With joy approach, O Christian wight,
+ Do homage to thy King;
+And highly praise His humble pomp,
+ Which He from Heaven doth bring."
+
+[Footnote 1: Old English--simple.]
+
+The cheerful sounds spread themselves through the ship like the flavor of
+some rare perfume, bringing softness of heart through a thousand tender
+memories.
+
+Anon, the hour of Sabbath morning worship drew on, and Elder Brewster
+read from the New Testament the whole story of the Nativity, and then
+gave a sort of Christmas homily from the words of St. Paul, in the eighth
+chapter of Romans, the sixth and seventh verses, which the Geneva version
+thus renders:
+
+"For the wisdom of the flesh is death, but the wisdom of the spirit is
+ life and peace.
+
+"For the wisdom of the flesh is enmity against God, for it is not subject
+ to the law of God, neither indeed can be."
+
+"Ye know full well, dear brethren, what the wisdom of the flesh sayeth.
+The wisdom of the flesh sayeth to each one, 'Take care of thyself; look
+after thyself, to get and to have and to hold and to enjoy.' The wisdom
+of the flesh sayeth, 'So thou art warm, full, and in good liking, take
+thine ease, eat, drink, and be merry, and care not how many go empty and
+be lacking.' But ye have seen in the Gospel this morning that this was
+not the wisdom of our Lord Jesus Christ, who, though he was Lord of all,
+became poorer than any, that we, through His poverty, might become rich.
+When our Lord Jesus Christ came, the wisdom of the flesh despised Him;
+the wisdom of the flesh had no room for Him at the inn.
+
+"There was room enough always for Herod and his concubines, for the
+wisdom of the flesh set great store by them; but a poor man and woman
+were thrust out to a stable; and _there_ was a poor baby born whom the
+wisdom of the flesh knew not, because the wisdom of the flesh is enmity
+against God.
+
+"The wisdom of the flesh, brethren, ever despiseth the wisdom of God,
+because it knoweth it not. The wisdom of the flesh looketh at the thing
+that is great and strong and high; it looketh at riches, at kings'
+courts, at fine clothes and fine jewels and fine feastings, and it
+despiseth the little and the poor and the weak.
+
+"But the wisdom of the Spirit goeth to worship the poor babe in the
+manger, and layeth gold and myrrh and frankincense at his feet while he
+lieth in weakness and poverty, as did the wise men who were taught of
+God.
+
+"Now, forasmuch as our Saviour Christ left His riches and throne in glory
+and came in weakness and poverty to this world, that he might work out a
+mighty salvation that shall be to all people, how can we better keep
+Christmas than to follow in his steps? We be a little company who have
+forsaken houses and lands and possessions, and come here unto the
+wilderness that we may prepare a resting-place whereto others shall come
+to reap what we shall sow. And to-morrow we shall keep our first
+Christmas, not in flesh-pleasing, and in reveling and in fullness of
+bread, but in small beginning and great weakness, as our Lord Christ kept
+it when He was born in a stable and lay in a manger.
+
+"To-morrow, God willing, we will all go forth to do good, honest
+Christian work, and begin the first house-building in this our New
+England--it may be roughly fashioned, but as good a house, I'll warrant
+me, as our Lord Christ had on the Christmas Day we wot of. And let us not
+faint in heart because the wisdom of the world despiseth what we do.
+Though Sanballat the Horonite, and Tobias the Ammonite, and Geshem the
+Arabian make scorn of us, and say, 'What do these weak Jews? If a fox go
+up, he shall break down their stone wall;' yet the Lord our God is with
+us, and He can cause our work to prosper.
+
+"The wisdom of the Spirit seeth the grain of mustard-seed, that is the
+least of all seeds, how it shall become a great tree, and the fowls of
+heaven shall lodge in its branches. Let us, then, lift up the hands that
+hang down and the feeble knees, and let us hope that, like as great
+salvation to all people came out of small beginnings of Bethlehem, so the
+work which we shall begin to-morrow shall be for the good of many
+nations.
+
+"It is a custom on this Christmas Day to give love-presents. What love-
+gift giveth our Lord Jesus on this day? Brethren, it is a great one and a
+precious; as St. Paul said to the Philippians: 'For unto you it is given
+for Christ, not only that ye should believe on Him, but also that ye
+should suffer for His sake;' and St. Peter also saith, 'Behold, we count
+them blessed which endure.' And the holy Apostles rejoiced that they were
+counted worthy to suffer rebuke for the name of Jesus.
+
+"Our Lord Christ giveth us of His cup and His baptism; He giveth of the
+manger and the straw; He giveth of persecutions and afflictions; He
+giveth of the crown of thorns, and right dear unto us be these gifts.
+
+"And now will I tell these children a story, which a cunning playwright,
+whom I once knew in our Queen's court, hath made concerning gifts:
+
+"A great king would marry his daughter worthily, and so he caused three
+caskets to be made, in one of which he hid her picture. The one casket
+was of gold set with diamonds, the second of silver set with pearls, and
+the third a poor casket of lead.
+
+"Now it was given out that each comer should have but one choice, and if
+he chose the one with the picture he should have the lady to wife.
+
+"Divers kings, knights, and gentlemen came from far, but they never won,
+because they always snatched at the gold and the silver caskets, with the
+pearls and diamonds. So, when they opened these, they found only a
+grinning death's-head or a fool's cap.
+
+"But anon cometh a true, brave knight and gentleman, who chooseth for
+love alone the old leaden casket; and, behold, within is the picture of
+her he loveth! and they were married with great feasting and content.
+
+"So our Lord Jesus doth not offer himself to us in silver and gold and
+jewels, but in poverty and hardness and want; but whoso chooseth them for
+His love's sake shall find Him therein whom his soul loveth, and shall
+enter with joy to the marriage supper of the Lamb.
+
+"And when the Lord shall come again in his glory, then he shall bring
+worthy gifts with him, for he saith: 'Be thou faithful unto death, and I
+will give thee a crown of life; to him that overcometh I will give to eat
+of the hidden manna, and I will give him a white stone with a new name
+that no man knoweth save he that receiveth it. He that overcometh and
+keepeth my words, I will give power over the nations and I will give him
+the morning star.'
+
+"Let us then take joyfully Christ's Christmas gifts of labors and
+adversities and crosses to-day, that when he shall appear we may have
+these great and wonderful gifts at his coming; for if we suffer with him
+we shall also reign; but if we deny him, he also will deny us."
+
+And so it happens that the only record of Christmas Day in the pilgrims'
+journal is this:
+
+"Monday, the 25th, being Christmas Day, we went ashore, some to fell
+timber, some to saw, some to rive, and some to carry; and so no man
+rested all that day. But towards night some, as they were at work, heard
+a noise of Indians, which caused us all to go to our muskets; but we
+heard no further, so we came aboard again, leaving some to keep guard.
+That night we had a sore storm of wind and rain. But at night the ship-
+master caused us to have some beer aboard."
+
+So worthily kept they the first Christmas, from which comes all the
+Christmas cheer of New England to-day. There is no record how Mary
+Winslow and Rose Standish and others, with women and children, came
+ashore and walked about encouraging the builders; and how little Love
+gathered stores of bright checker-berries and partridge plums, and was
+made merry in seeing squirrels and wild rabbits; nor how old Margery
+roasted certain wild geese to a turn at a woodland fire, and conserved
+wild cranberries with honey for sauce. In their journals the good
+pilgrims say they found bushels of strawberries in the meadows in
+December. But we, knowing the nature of things, know that these must have
+been cranberries, which grow still abundantly around Plymouth harbor.
+
+And at the very time that all this was doing in the wilderness, and the
+men were working yeomanly to build a new nation, in King James's court
+the ambassadors of the French King were being entertained with maskings
+and mummerings, wherein the staple subject of merriment was the Puritans!
+
+So goes the wisdom of the world and its ways--and so goes the wisdom of
+God!
+
+*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 10723 ***
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+<title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of Betty's Bright Idea; Deacon Pitkin's Farm; and The First Christmas of New England, by Harriet Beecher Stowe</title>
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+<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 10723 ***</div>
+<h1>The Project Gutenberg eBook, Betty's Bright Idea; Deacon Pitkin's Farm;
+and The First Christmas of New England, by Harriet Beecher Stowe</h1>
+
+
+</pre>
+
+<hr />
+<br />
+<table width="80%" border="0" align="center">
+ <tr>
+ <td>
+ <div align="center"><img src="images/cover.jpg" alt="Betty's Bright Idea" align="left" />
+ </div>
+ </td>
+ <td>
+ <h2 align="center">also<br /><br />
+ <a href="#deacon">DEACON PITKIN'S FARM</a><br /><br />
+ and<br /><br />
+ <a href="#xmas">THE FIRST CHRISTMAS OF NEW ENGLAND</a><br /><br />
+ BY HARRIET BEECHER STOWE.<br /><br />
+ With Illustrations.<br /><br />
+ 1875.</h2>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">
+ <div align="center"><br />
+ <img src="images/frontis.jpg" alt="The Children in the Churchyard" /><br />
+ <br />
+ </div>
+ <hr style="width: 45%;" /><br />
+<h1 align="center">BETTY'S BRIGHT IDEA.</h1>
+
+
+<br /><hr style="width: 45%;" /><br />
+&quot;When He ascended up on high, He led captivity captive, and gave gifts
+unto men.&quot;&mdash;Eph. iv. 8.
+
+<p>Some say that ever, 'gainst that season comes<br />
+Wherein our Saviour's birth is celebrate,<br />
+The bird of dawning singeth all night long.<br />
+And then, they say, no evil spirit walks;<br />
+The nights are wholesome; then no planets strike,<br />
+No fairy takes, no witch hath power to charm,&mdash;<br />
+So hallowed and so gracious is the time.</p>
+
+<p>And this holy time, so hallowed and so gracious, was settling down over
+the great roaring, rattling, seething life-world of New York in the good
+year 1875. Who does not feel its on-coming in the shops and streets, in
+the festive air of trade and business, in the thousand garnitures by
+which every store hangs out triumphal banners and solicits you to buy
+something for a Christmas gift? For it is the peculiarity of all this
+array of prints, confectionery, dry goods, and manufactures of all kinds,
+that their bravery and splendor at Christmas tide is all to seduce you
+into generosity, and importune you to give something to others. It says
+to you, &quot;The dear God gave you an unspeakable gift; give you a lesser
+gift to your brother!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Do we ever think, when we walk those busy, bustling streets, all alive
+with Christmas shoppers, and mingle with the rushing tides that throng
+and jostle through the stores, that unseen spirits may be hastening to
+and fro along those same ways bearing Christ's Christmas gifts to men&mdash;gifts
+whose value no earthly gold or gems can represent?</p>
+
+<p>Yet, on this morning of the day before Christmas, were these Shining
+Ones, moving to and fro with the crowd, whose faces were loving and
+serene as the invisible stars, whose robes took no defilement from the
+spatter and the rush of earth, whose coming and going was still as the
+falling snow-flakes. They entered houses without ringing door-bells, they
+passed through apartments without opening doors, and everywhere they were
+bearing Christ's Christmas presents, and silently offering them to
+whoever would open their souls to receive. Like themselves, their gifts
+were invisible&mdash;incapable of weight and measurement in gross earthly
+scales. To mourners they carried joy; to weary and perplexed hearts,
+peace; to souls stifling in luxury and self-indulgence they carried that
+noble discontent that rises to aspiration for higher things. Sometimes
+they took away an earthly treasure to make room for a heavenly one. They
+took health, but left resignation and cheerful faith. They took the babe
+from the dear cradle, but left in its place a heart full of pity for the
+suffering on earth and a fellowship with the blessed in heaven. Let us
+follow their footsteps awhile.</p>
+
+
+<br /><hr style="width: 45%;" /><br />
+<h2 align="center">SCENE I.</h2>
+
+<p>A young girl's boudoir in one of our American palaces of luxury, built
+after the choicest fancy of the architect, and furnished in all the
+latest devices of household decoration. Pictures, statuettes, and every
+form of <i>bijouterie</i> make the room a miracle of beauty, and the little
+princess of all sits in an easy chair before the fire, and thus revolves
+with herself:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;O, dear me! Christmas is a bore! Such a rush and crush in the streets,
+such a jam in the shops, and then <i>such</i> a fuss thinking up presents for
+everybody! All for nothing, too; for nobody Wants anything. I'm sure <i>I</i>
+don't. I'm surfeited now with pictures and jewelry, and bon-bon boxes,
+and little china dogs and cats&mdash;and all these things that get so thick
+you can't move without upsetting some of them. There's papa, he don't
+want anything. He never uses any of my Christmas presents when I get
+them; and mamma, she has every earthly thing I can think of, and said the
+other day she did hope nobody'd give her any more worsted work! Then Aunt
+Maria and Uncle John, they don't want the things I give them; they have
+more than they know what to do with, now. All the boys say they don't
+want any more cigar cases or slippers, or smoking caps. Oh, dear!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Here the Shining Ones came and stood over the little lady, and looked
+down on her with faces of pity, which seemed blent with a serene and
+half-amused indulgence. It was a heavenly amusement, such as that with
+which mothers listen to the foolish-wise prattle of children just
+learning to talk.</p>
+
+<p>As the grave, sweet eyes rested tenderly on her, the girl somehow grew
+graver, leaned back in her chair, and sighed a little.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I wish I knew how to be better!&quot; she said to herself. &quot;I remember last
+Sunday's text, 'It is more blessed to give than to receive.' That must
+mean something! Well, isn't there something, too, in the Bible about not
+giving to your rich neighbors that can give again, but giving to the poor
+that cannot recompense you? I don't know any poor people. Papa says there
+are very few deserving poor people. Well, for the matter of that, there
+aren't many <i>deserving rich</i> people. I, for example, how much do I
+<i>deserve</i> to have all these nice things? I'm no better than the poor
+shop-girls that go trudging by in the cold at six o'clock in the morning&mdash;ugh!
+it makes me shiver to think of it. I know if I had to do that <i>I</i>
+shouldn't be good at all. Well, I'd like to give to poor people, if I
+knew any.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>At this moment the door opened and the maid entered.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Betty, do you know any poor people I ought to get things for, this
+Christmas?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Poor folks is always plenty, miss,&quot; said Betty.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;O yes, of course, beggars; but I mean people that I could do something
+for besides just give cold victuals or money. I don't know where to hunt
+them up, and should be afraid to go if I did. O dear! it's no use. I'll
+give it up.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Why, Miss Florence, that 'ud be too bad, afther bein' that good in yer
+heart, to let the poor folks alone for fear of goin' to them. But ye
+needn't do that, for, now I think of it, there's John Morley's wife.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What, the gardener father turned off for drinking?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The same, miss. Poor boy, he's not so bad, and he's got a wife and two
+as pretty children as ever you see.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I always liked John,&quot; said the young lady. &quot;But papa is so strict about
+some things! He says he never will keep a man a day if he finds out that
+he drinks.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>She was quite silent for a minute, and then broke out:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I don't care; it's a good idea! I say, Betty, do you know where John's
+wife lives?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes, miss, I've been there often.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, then, this afternoon I'll go with you and see if I can do anything
+for them.&quot;</p>
+
+ <p><img src="images/holly_dec.gif" alt="Decoration" /></p>
+
+
+<br /><hr style="width: 45%;" /><br />
+<h2 align="center">SCENE II.</h2>
+
+
+<p>An attic room, neat and clean, but poorly furnished; a bed and a trundle-bed,
+a small cooking-stove, a shelf with a few dishes, one or two chairs
+and stools, a pale, thin woman working on a vest.</p>
+
+<p>Her face is anxious; her thin hands tremble with weakness, and now and
+then, as she works, quiet tears drop, which she wipes quickly. Poor
+people cannot afford to shed tears; it takes time and injures eyesight.</p>
+
+<p>This is John Morley's wife. This morning he has risen and gone out in a
+desperate mood. &quot;No use to try,&quot; he says. &quot;Didn't I go a whole year and
+never touch a drop? And now just because I fell once I'm kicked out! No
+use to try. When a fellow once trips, everybody gives him a kick. Talk
+about love of Christ! Who believes it? Don't see much love of Christ
+where I go. Your Christians hit a fellow that's down as hard as anybody.
+It's everybody for himself and devil take the hindmost. Well, I'll trudge
+up to the Brooklyn Navy Yard and see if they'll take me on there&mdash;if they
+won't I might as well go to sea, or to the devil,&quot; and out he flings.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Mamma!&quot; says a little voice, &quot;what are we going to have for our
+Christmas?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>It is a little girl, with soft curly hair and bright, earnest eyes, that
+speaks.</p>
+
+<p>A sturdy little fellow of four presses up to the mother's knee and
+repeats the question, &quot;Sha'n't we have a Christmas, mother?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>It overcomes the poor woman; she leans forward and breaks into sobbing,&mdash;a
+tempest of sorrow, long suppressed, that shakes her weak frame as she
+thinks that her husband is out of work, desperate, discouraged, and
+tempted of the devil, that the rent is falling due, and only the poor pay
+of her needle to meet it with. In one of those quick flashes which
+concentrate through the imagination the sorrows of years, she seems to
+see her little home broken up, her husband in the gutter, her children
+turned into the street. At this moment there goes up from her heart a
+despairing cry, such as a poor, hunted, tired-out creature gives when
+brought to the last gasp of endurance. It was like the shriek of the hare
+when the hounds are upon it. She clasps her hands and cries out, &quot;O my
+God, help me.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>There was no voice of any that answered; there was no sound of foot-fall
+on the staircase; no one entered the door; and yet that agonized cry had
+reached the heart it was meant for. The Shining Ones were with her; they
+stood, with faces full of tenderness, beaming down upon her; they brought
+her a Christmas gift from Christ&mdash;the gift of trust. She knew not from
+whence came the courage and rest that entered her soul; but while her
+little ones stood wondering and silent, she turned and drew to herself
+her well-worn Bible. Hands that she did not see guided her as she turned
+the pages, and pointed the words: <i>He shall deliver the needy when he
+crieth; the poor also and him that hath no helper. He shall spare the
+poor and needy, and shall save the souls of the needy. He shall redeem
+their soul from deceit and violence, and precious shall their blood be in
+his sight.</i></p>
+
+<p>She laid down her poor wan cheek on the merciful old book, as on her
+mother's breast, and gave up all the tangled skein of life into the hands
+of Infinite Pity. There seemed a consoling presence in the room, and her
+tired heart found rest.</p>
+
+<p>She wiped away her tears, kissed her children, and smiled upon them. Then
+she rose, gathered up her finished work, and attired herself to go forth
+and carry it back to the shop.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Mother,&quot; said the children softly, &quot;they are dressing the church, and
+the gates are open, and people are going in and out; mayn't we play there
+by the church?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The mother looked out on the ivy-grown walls of the church, with its
+flocks of twittering sparrows, and said:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes, my little birds; you may play there if you'll be very good and
+quiet.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The mother had only her small, close attic room for her darlings, and to
+satisfy all their childish desire for variety and motion, she had only
+the refuge of the streets. She was a decent, godly woman, and the bold
+manners and evil words of street vagrants were terrible to her; and so,
+when the church gates were open for daily morning and evening prayers,
+she had often begged the sexton to let her little ones come in and hear
+the singing, and wander hand in hand around the old church walls. He was
+a kindly old man, and the children, stealing round like two still,
+bright-eyed little mice, had gained upon his heart, and he made them
+welcome there. It gave the mother a feeling of protection to have them
+play near the church, as if it were a father's house.</p>
+
+<p>So she put on their little hoods and tippets, and led them forth, and saw
+them into the yard; and as she looked to the old gray church, with its
+rustling ivy bowers and flocks of birds, her heart swelled within her.
+&quot;Yea, the sparrow hath found a house and the swallow a nest where she may
+lay her young, even thine altars, O Lord of hosts, my king and my God!&quot;
+And the Shining Ones walking with her said, &quot;Fear not; ye are of more
+value than many sparrows.&quot;</p>
+
+<p><img src="images/holly_dec.gif" alt="Decoration" /></p>
+<br /><hr style="width: 45%;" /><br />
+<h2 align="center">SCENE III.</h2>
+
+
+<p>The little ones went gayly into the yard. They had been scared by their
+mother's tears; but she had smiled again, and that had made all right
+with them. The sun was shining brightly, and they were on the sunny side
+of the old church, and they laughed and chirped and chittered to each
+other as merrily as the little birds in the ivy boughs.</p>
+
+<p>The old sexton came to the side door and threw out an armful of refuse
+greens, and then stopped a moment and nodded kindly at them.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;May we play with them, please, sir?&quot; said the little Elsie, looking up
+with great reverence.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, yes, to be sure; these are done with&mdash;they are no good now.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, Tottie!&quot; cried Elsie, rapturously, &quot;just think, he says we may play
+with all these. Why, here's ever and ever so much green, enough to play
+house. Let's play build a house for father and mother.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I'm going to build a big house for 'em when I grow up,&quot; said Tottie,
+&quot;and I mean to have glass bead windows in it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Tottie had once had presented to him a box of colored glass beads to
+string, and he could think of nothing finer in the future than unlimited
+glass beads.</p>
+
+<p>Meanwhile, his sister began planting pine branches upright in the snow,
+to make her house.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You see we can make believe there are windows and doors and a roof,&quot; she
+said, &quot;and it's just as good. Now, let's make believe there is a bed in
+this corner, and we will lie down to sleep.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And Tottie obediently couched himself in the allotted corner and shut his
+eyes very hard, though after a moment he remarked that the snow got into
+his neck.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You must play it isn't snow&mdash;play it's feathers,&quot; said Elsie.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But I don't like it,&quot; persisted Tottie, &quot;it don't feel a bit like
+feathers.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, well, then,&quot; said Elsie, accommodating herself to circumstances,
+&quot;let's play get up now and I'll get breakfast.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Just now the door opened again, and the sexton began sweeping the refuse
+out of the church. There were bits of ivy and holly, and ruffles of
+ground-pine, and lots of bright red berries that came flying forth into
+the yard, and the children screamed for joy. &quot;O Tottie!&quot; &quot;O Elsie!&quot; &quot;Only
+see how many pretty things&mdash;lots and lots!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The sexton stood and looked and laughed as he saw the little ones so
+eager for the scraps and remnants.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Don't you want to come in and see the church?&quot; he said. &quot;It's all done
+now, and a brave sight it is. You may come in.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>They tipped in softly, with large bright, wondering eyes. The light
+through the stained glass windows fell blue and crimson and yellow on the
+pillars all ruffled with ground-pine and brightened with scarlet<br />
+bitter-sweet
+berries, and there were stars and crosses and mottoes in green all
+through the bowery aisles, while the organist, hid in a thicket of
+verdure, was practicing softly, and sweet voices sung:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Hark! the herald angels sing<br />
+Glory to the new-born King.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The little ones wandered up and down the long aisles in a dream of awe
+and wonder. &quot;Hush, Tottie!&quot; said Elsie when he broke into an eager
+exclamation, &quot;don't make a noise. I do believe it's something like
+heaven,&quot; she said, under her breath.</p>
+
+<p>They made the course of the church and came round by the door again,
+where the sexton stood smiling on them.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You can find lots of pretty Christmas greens out there,&quot; he said,
+pointing to the door; &quot;perhaps your folks would like to have some.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, thank you, sir,&quot; exclaimed. Elsie, rapturously. &quot;Oh, Tottie, only
+think! Let's gather a good lot and go home and dress our room for
+Christmas. Oh, <i>won't</i> mother be astonished when she comes home, we'll
+make it so pretty!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And forthwith the children began gathering into their little aprons
+wreaths of ground-pine, sprigs of holly, and twigs of crimson bitter-sweet.
+The sexton, seeing their zeal, brought out to them a little cross,
+fancifully made of red alder-berries and pine.</p>
+
+<p>Then he said, &quot;A lady took that down to put up a bigger one, and she gave
+it to me; you may have it if you want it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, how beautiful,&quot; said Elsie. &quot;How glad I am to have this for mother!
+When she comes back she won't know our room; it will be as fine as the
+church.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Soon the little gleaners were toddling off out of the yard&mdash;moving masses
+of green with all that their aprons and their little hands could carry.</p>
+
+<p>The sexton looked after them. &quot;Take heed that ye despise not these little
+ones,&quot; he said to himself, &quot;for in heaven their angels&mdash;&quot;</p>
+
+<p>A ray of tenderness fell on the old man's head; it was from the Shining
+One who watched the children. He thought it was an afternoon sunbeam. His
+heart grew gentle and peaceful, and his thoughts went far back to a
+distant green grove where his own little one was sleeping. &quot;Seems to me
+I've loved all little ones ever since,&quot; he said, thinking far back to the
+Christmas week when his lamb was laid to rest. &quot;Well, she shall not
+return to me, but I shall go to her.&quot; The smile of the Shining One made a
+warm glow in his heart, which followed him all the way home.</p>
+
+<p>The children had a merry time dressing the room. They stuck good big
+bushes of pine in each window; they put a little ruffle of ground-pine
+round mother's Bible, and they fastened the beautiful red cross up over
+the table, and they stuck sprigs of pine or holly into every crack that
+could be made, by fair means or foul, to accept it, and they were
+immensely satisfied and delighted. Tottie insisted on hanging up his
+string of many-colored beads in the window to imitate the effect of the
+stained glass of the great church window.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It looks pretty when the light comes through,&quot; he remarked; and Elsie
+admitted that they might play they were painted windows, with some show
+of propriety. When everything had been stuck somewhere, Elsie swept the
+floor, and made up a fire, and put on the tea-kettle, to have everything
+ready to strike mother favorably on her return.</p>
+
+<p><img src="images/holly_dec.gif" alt="Decoration" /></p>
+<br /><hr style="width: 45%;" /><br />
+<h2 align="center">SCENE IV.</h2>
+
+
+<p>A freezing, bright, cold afternoon. &quot;Cold as Christmas!&quot; say cheery
+voices, as the crowds rush to and fro into shops and stores, and come out
+with hands full of presents.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes, cold as Christmas,&quot; says John Morley. &quot;I should think so! Cold
+enough for a fellow that can't get in anywhere&mdash;that nobody wants and
+nobody helps! I should think so.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>John had been trudging all day from point to point, only to hear the old
+story: times were hard, work was dull, nobody wanted him, and he felt
+morose and surly&mdash;out of humor with himself and with everybody else.</p>
+
+<p>It is true that his misfortunes were from his own fault; but that
+consideration never makes a man a particle more patient or good-natured&mdash;indeed,
+it is an additional bitterness in his cup. John was an
+Englishman. When he first landed in New York from the old country, he had
+been wild and dissipated and given to drinking. But by his wife's earnest
+entreaties he had been persuaded to sign the temperance pledge, and had
+gone on prosperously keeping it for a year. He had a good place and good
+wages, and all went well with him till in an evil hour he met some of his
+former boon-companions, and was induced to have a social evening with
+them.</p>
+
+<p>In the first half hour of that evening were lost the fruits of the whole
+year's self-denial and self-control. He was not only drunk that night,
+but he went off for a fortnight, and was drunk night after night, and
+came back to find that his master had discharged him in indignation. John
+thinks this over bitterly, as he thuds about in the cold and calls
+himself a fool.</p>
+
+<p>Yet, if the truth must be confessed, John had not much &quot;sense of sin,&quot; so
+called. He looked on himself as an unfortunate and rather ill-used man,
+for had he not tried very hard to be good, and gone a great while against
+the stream of evil inclination? and now, just for one yielding, he was
+pitched out of place, and everybody was turned against him! He thought
+this was hard measure. Didn't everybody hit wrong sometimes? Didn't rich
+fellows have their wine, and drink a little too much now and then? Yet
+nobody was down on <i>them</i>.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It's only because I'm poor,&quot; said John. &quot;Poor folks' sins are never
+pardoned. There's my good wife&mdash;poor girl!&quot; and John's heart felt as if
+it were breaking, for he was an affectionate creature, and loved his wife
+and babies, and in his deepest consciousness he knew that he was the one
+at fault. We have heard much about the sufferings of the wives and
+children of men who are overtaken with drink; but what is not so well
+understood is the sufferings of the men themselves in their sober
+moments, when they feel that they are becoming a curse to all that are
+dearest to them. John's very soul was wrung within him to think of the
+misery he had brought on his wife and children&mdash;the greater miseries that
+might be in store for them. He was faint of heart; he was tired; he had
+eaten nothing for hours, and on ahead he saw a drinking saloon. Why
+shouldn't he go and take one good drink, and then pitch off a ferry-boat
+into the East River, and so end the whole miserable muddle of life
+altogether?</p>
+
+<p>John's steps were turning that way, when one of the Shining Ones, who had
+watched him all day, came nearer and took his hand. He felt no touch; but
+at that moment there darted into his soul a thought of his mother, long
+dead, and he stopped irresolute, then turned to walk another way. The
+hand that was guiding him led him to turn a corner, and his curiosity was
+excited by a stream of people who seemed to be pressing into a building.
+A distant sound of singing was heard as he drew nearer, and soon he found
+himself passing with the multitude into a great prayer-meeting. The music
+grew more distinct as he went in. A man was singing in clear, penetrating
+tones:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What means this eager, anxious throng,<br />
+Which moves with busy haste along;<br />
+These wondrous gatherings day by day;<br />
+What means this strange commotion, say?<br />
+In accents hushed the throng reply,<br />
+'Jesus of Nazareth passeth by!'&quot;</p>
+
+<p>John had but a vague idea of religion, yet something in the singing
+affected him; and, weary and footsore and heartsore as he was, he sank
+into a seat and listened with absorbed attention:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Jesus! 'tis he who once below<br />
+Man's pathway trod in toil and woe;<br />
+And burdened ones where'er he came<br />
+Brought out their sick and deaf and lame.<br />
+The blind rejoiced to hear the cry,<br />
+'Jesus of Nazareth passeth by!'</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Ho, all ye heavy-laden, come!<br />
+Here's pardon, comfort, rest, and home.<br />
+Ye wanderers from a Father's face,<br />
+Return, accept his proffered grace.<br />
+Ye tempted ones, there's refuge nigh&mdash;<br />
+'Jesus of Nazareth passeth by!'&quot;</p>
+
+<p>A plain man, who spoke the language of plain working-men, now arose and
+read from his Bible the words which the angel of old spoke to the
+shepherds of Bethlehem:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;<i>Fear not, for behold, I bring you tidings of great joy, which shall be
+to all people, for unto you is born this day a Saviour, which is Christ
+the Lord.</i>&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The man went on to speak of this with an intense practical earnestness
+that soon made John feel as if <i>he</i>, individually, were being talked to;
+and the purport of the speech was this: that God had sent to him, John
+Morley, a Saviour to save him from his sins, to lift him above his
+weakness, to help him overcome his bad habits; that His name was called
+Jesus, because he shall save his people <i>from their sins</i>. John listened
+with a strange new thrill. This was what he needed&mdash;a Friend, all-powerful,
+all-pitiful, who would undertake for him and help him to
+overcome himself&mdash;for he sorely felt how weak he was. Here was a Friend
+that could have compassion on the ignorant and them that were out of the
+way. The thought brought tears to his eyes and a glow of hope to his
+heart. What if He <i>would</i> help him? for deep down in John's heart, worse
+than cold or hunger or weariness, was the dreadful conviction that he was
+a doomed man, that he should drink again as he had drunk, and never come
+to good, but fall lower and lower, and drag all who loved him down with
+him.</p>
+
+<p>And was this mighty Saviour given to him?</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes,&quot; cried the man who was speaking; &quot;to <i>you;</i> to you, who have lost
+name and place; to you, that nobody cares for; to you, who have been down
+in the gutter. God has sent you a Saviour to take you up out of the mud
+and mire, to wash you clean, to give you strength to overcome your sins,
+and lead you home to his blessed kingdom. This is the glad tidings of
+great joy that the angels brought on the first Christmas day. Christ was
+<i>God's Christmas gift</i> to a poor, lost world, and you may have him now,
+to-day. He may be your own Saviour&mdash;yours as much as if there were no
+other one on earth to be saved. He is looking for you to-day, coming
+after you, seeking you; he calls you by me. Oh, accept him now!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>There was a deep breathing of suppressed emotion as the speaker sat down,
+a pause of solemn stillness.</p>
+
+<p>A faint strain of music was heard, and the singer began singing a
+pathetic ballad of a lost sheep and of the Shepherd going forth to seek
+it:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;There were ninety and nine that safely lay<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;In the shelter of the fold,<br />
+But one was out on the hills away,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;Far off from the gates of gold&mdash;<br />
+Away on the mountains wild and bare,<br />
+Away from the tender Shepherd's care.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;'Lord, Thou hast here Thy ninety and nine;<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;Are they not enough for Thee?'<br />
+But the Shepherd made answer: ''Tis of mine<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;Has wandered away from me;<br />
+And although the road be rough and steep<br />
+I go to the desert to find my sheep.'&quot;</p>
+
+<p>John heard with an absorbed interest. All around him were eager
+listeners, breathless, leaning forward with intense attention. The song
+went on:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But none of the ransomed ever knew<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;How deep were the waters crossed;<br />
+Nor how dark was the night that the Lord went through<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;Ere He found His sheep that was lost.<br />
+Out in the desert He heard its cry&mdash;<br />
+Sick and helpless, and ready to die.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>There was a throbbing pathos in the intonation, and the verse floated
+over the weeping throng; when, after a pause, the strain was taken up
+triumphantly:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But all through the mountains thunder-riven,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;And up from the rocky steep,<br />
+There rose a cry to the gates of heaven,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;'Rejoice! I have found my sheep!'<br />
+And the angels echoed around the throne,<br />
+'Rejoice, for the Lord brings back His own!'&quot;</p>
+
+<p>All day long, poor John had felt so lonesome! Nobody cared for him;
+nobody wanted him; everything was against him; and, worst of all, he had
+no faith in himself. But here was this Friend, <i>seeking</i> him, following
+him through the cold alleys and crowded streets. In heaven they would be
+glad to hear that he had become a good man. The thought broke down all
+his pride, all his bitterness; he wept like a little child; and the
+Christmas gift of Christ&mdash;the sense of a real, present, loving, pitying
+Saviour&mdash;came into his very <i>soul</i>.</p>
+
+<p>He went homeward as one in a dream. He passed the drinking-saloon without
+a thought or wish of drinking. The expulsive force of a new emotion had
+for the time driven out all temptation. Raised above weakness, he thought
+only of this Jesus, this Saviour from sin, who he now believed had
+followed him and found him, and he longed to go home and tell his wife
+what great things the Lord had done for him.</p>
+
+<p><img src="images/holly_dec.gif" alt="Decoration" /></p>
+<br /><hr style="width: 45%;" /><br />
+<h2 align="center">SCENE V.</h2>
+
+
+<p>Meanwhile a little drama had been acting in John's humble home. His wife
+had been to the shop that day and come home with the pittance for her
+work in her hands.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I'll pay you full price to-day, but we can't pay such prices any
+longer,&quot; the man had said over the counter as he paid her. &quot;Hard times&mdash;work
+dull&mdash;we are cutting down all our work-folks; you'll have to take a
+third less next time.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I'll do my best,&quot; she said meekly, as she took her bundle of work and
+turned wearily away, but the invisible arm of the Shining One was round
+her, and the words again thrilled through her that she had read that
+morning: &quot;He shall redeem their soul from deceit and violence, and
+precious shall their blood be in his sight.&quot; She saw no earthly helper;
+she heard none and felt none, and yet her soul was sustained, and she
+came home in peace.</p>
+
+<p>When she opened the door of her little room she drew back astonished at
+the sight that presented itself. A brisk fire was roaring in the stove,
+and the tea-kettle was sputtering and sending out clouds of steam. A
+table with a white cloth on it was drawn out before the fire, and a new
+tea set of pure white cups and saucers, with teapot, sugar-bowl, and
+creamer, complete, gave a festive air to the whole. There were bread, and
+butter, and ham-sandwiches, and a Christmas cake all frosted, with little
+blue and red and green candles round it ready to be lighted, and a bunch
+of hot-house flowers in a pretty little vase in the centre.</p>
+
+<p>A new stuffed rocking-chair stood on one side of the stove, and there sat
+Miss Florence De Witt, our young princess of Scene First, holding little
+Elsie in her lap, while the broad, honest countenance of Betty was
+beaming with kindness down on the delighted face of Tottie. Both children
+were dressed from head to foot in complete new suits of clothes, and
+Elsie was holding with tender devotion a fine doll, while Tottie rejoiced
+in a horse and cart which he was maneuvering under Betty's
+superintendence.</p>
+
+<p>The little princess had pleased herself in getting up all this tableau.
+Doing good was a novelty to her, and she plunged into it with the zest of
+a new amusement. The amazed look of the poor woman, her dazed expressions
+of rapture and incredulous joy, the shrieks and cries of confused delight
+with which the little ones met their mother, delighted her more than any
+scene she had ever witnessed at the opera&mdash;with this added grace, unknown
+to her, that at this scene the invisible Shining Ones were pleased
+witnesses.</p>
+
+<p>She had been out with Betty, buying here and there whatever was wanted,&mdash;and
+what was <i>not</i> wanted for those who had been living so long without
+work or money?</p>
+
+<p>She had their little coal-bin filled, and a nice pile of wood and
+kindlings put behind the stove. She had bought a nice rocking-chair for
+the mother to rest in. She had dressed the children from head to foot at
+a ready-made clothing store, and bought them toys to their hearts'
+desire, while Betty had set the table for a Christmas feast.</p>
+
+<p>And now she said to the poor woman at last:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I'm so sorry John lost his place at father's. He was so kind and
+obliging, and I always liked him; and I've been thinking, if you'd get
+him to sign the pledge over again from Christmas Eve, never to touch
+another drop, I'll get papa to take him back. I always do get papa to do
+what I want, and the fact is, he hasn't got anybody that suited him so
+well since John left. So you tell John that I mean to go surety for him;
+he certainly won't fail <i>me</i>. Tell him <i>I trust him</i>.&quot; And Miss Florence
+pulled out a paper wherein, in her best round hand, she had written out
+again the temperance pledge, and dated it &quot;<i>Christmas Eve, 1875</i>.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Now, you come with John to-morrow morning, and bring this with his name
+to it, and you'll see what I'll do!&quot; and, with a kiss to the children,
+the little good fairy departed, leaving the family to their Christmas
+Eve.</p>
+
+<p>What that Christmas Eve was, when the husband and father came home with
+the new and softened heart that had been given him, who can say? There
+were joyful tears and solemn prayers, and earnest vows and purposes of a
+new life heard by the Shining Ones in the room that night.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And the angels echoed around the throne,<br />
+Rejoice! for the Lord brings back his own.&quot;</p>
+
+
+<br /><hr style="width: 45%;" /><br />
+<h2 align="center">SCENE VI.</h2>
+
+
+<p>&quot;Now, papa, I want you to give me something special to-day, because it's
+Christmas,&quot; said the little princess to her father, as she kissed and
+wished him &quot;Merry Christmas&quot; next morning.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What is it, Pussy&mdash;half of my kingdom?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No, no, papa; not so much as that. It's a little bit of my own way that
+I want.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Of course; well, what is it?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, I want you to take John back again.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Her father's face grew hard.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Now, please, papa, don't say a word till you have heard me. John was a
+capital gardener; he kept the green-house looking beautiful; and this
+Mike that we've got now, he's nothing but an apprentice, and stupid as an
+owl at that! He'll never do in the world.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;All that is very true,&quot; said Mr. De Witt, &quot;but <i>John drinks</i>, and I
+<i>won't</i> have a drinking man.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But, papa, <i>I</i> mean to take care of that. I've written out the
+temperance pledge, and dated it, and got John to sign it, and <i>here it
+is</i>,&quot; and she handed the paper to her father, who read it carefully, and
+sat turning it in his hands while his daughter went on:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You ought to have seen how poor, how very poor they were. His wife is
+such a nice, quiet, hardworking woman, and has two such pretty children.
+I went to see them and carry them Christmas things yesterday, but it's no
+good doing anything if John can't get work. She told me how the poor
+fellow had been walking the streets in the cold, day after day, trying
+everywhere, and nobody would take him. It's a dreadful time now for a man
+to be out of work, and it isn't fair his poor wife and children should
+suffer. Do try him again, papa!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;John always did better with the pineapples than anybody we have tried,&quot;
+said Mrs. De Witt at this point. &quot;He is the only one who really
+understands pineapples.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>At this moment the door opened, and there was a sound of chirping voices
+in the hall. &quot;Please, Miss Florence,&quot; said Betty, &quot;the little folks says
+they wants to give you a Christmas.&quot; She added in a whisper: &quot;They thinks
+much of giving you something, poor little things&mdash;plaze take it of 'em.&quot;
+And little Tottie at the word marched in and offered the young princess
+his dear, beautiful, beloved string of glass beads, and Elsie presented
+the cross of red berries&mdash;most dear to her heart and fair to her eyes.
+&quot;We wanted to give <i>you something</i>&quot; she said bashfully.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, you lovely dears!&quot; cried Florence; &quot;how sweet of you! I shall keep
+these beautiful glass beads always, and put the cross up over my
+dressing-table. I thank you <i>ever</i> so much!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Are those John's children?&quot; asked Mr. De Witt, winking a tear out of his
+eye&mdash;he was at bottom a soft-hearted old gentleman.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes, papa,&quot; said Florence, caressing Elsie's curly hair,&mdash;&quot;see how sweet
+they are!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well&mdash;you may tell John I'll try him again.&quot; And so passed Florence's
+Christmas, with a new, warm sense of joy in her heart, a feeling of
+something in the world to be done, worth doing.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;How much joy one can give with a little money!&quot; she said to herself as
+she counted over what she had spent on her Christmas. Ah yes! and how
+true that &quot;It <i>is</i> more blessed to give than to receive.&quot; A shining,
+invisible hand was laid on her head in blessing as she lay down that
+night, and a sweet sense of a loving presence stole like music into her
+soul. Unknown to herself, she had that day taken the first step out of
+self-life into that life of love and care for others which brought the
+King of Glory down to share earth's toils and sorrows. And that precious
+experience was Christ's Christmas gift to her.</p>
+
+<p><img src="images/holly_dec.gif" alt="Decoration" /></p>
+<a name="deacon"></a>
+ <hr style="width: 45%;" />
+ <h1 align="center">DEACON PITKIN'S FARM. <br /></h1>
+ <hr style="width: 45%;" />
+ <div align="center"><br />
+ <img src="images/illp32.jpg" alt="The Pitkin Homestead" /> <br />
+ </div>
+
+<br /><hr style="width: 45%;" /><br />
+<h2 align="center">CHAPTER I.</h2>
+
+
+ <p><strong>MISS DIANA.</strong></p>
+
+<p>Thanksgiving was impending in the village of Mapleton on the 20th of
+November, 1825.</p>
+
+<p>The Governor's proclamation had been duly and truly read from the pulpit
+the Sunday before, to the great consternation of Miss Briskett, the
+ambulatory dressmaker, who declared confidentially to Deacon Pitkin's
+wife that &quot;she didn't see nothin' how she was goin' to get through
+things&mdash;and there was Saphiry's gown, and Miss Deacon Trowbridge's cloak,
+and Lizy Jane's new merino, not a stroke done on't. The Governor ought to
+be ashamed of himself for hurrying matters so.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>It was a very rash step for Miss Briskett to go to the length of such a
+remark about the Governor, but the deacon's wife was one of the few women
+who are nonconductors of indiscretion, and so the Governor never heard of
+it.</p>
+
+<p>This particular Thanksgiving tide was marked in Mapleton by exceptionally
+charming weather. Once in a great while the inclement New England skies
+are taken with a remorseful twinge and forget to give their usual snap of
+September frost which generally bites off all the pretty flowers in so
+heart-breaking a way, and then you can have lovely times quite down
+through November.</p>
+
+<p>It was so this year at Mapleton. Though the Thanksgiving proclamation had
+been read, and it was past the middle of November, yet marigolds and
+four-o'clocks were all ablaze in the gardens, and the golden rod and
+purple aster were blooming over the fields as if they were expecting to
+keep it up all winter.</p>
+
+<p>It really is affecting, the jolly good heart with which these bright
+children of the rainbow flaunt and wave and dance and go on budding and
+blossoming in the very teeth and snarl of oncoming winter. An autumn
+golden rod or aster ought to be the symbol for pluck and courage, and
+might serve a New England crest as the broom flower did the old
+Plantagenets.</p>
+
+<p>The trees round Mapleton were looking like gigantic tulip beds, and
+breaking every hour into new phantasmagoria of color; and the great elm
+that overshadowed the red Pitkin farm-house seemed like a dome of gold,
+and sent a yellow radiance through all the doors and windows as the
+dreamy autumn sunshine streamed through it.</p>
+
+<p>The Pitkin elm was noted among the great trees of New England. Now and
+then Nature asserts herself and does something so astonishing and
+overpowering as actually to strike through the crust of human stupidity,
+and convince mankind that a tree is something greater than they are. As a
+general thing the human race has a stupid hatred of trees. They embrace
+every chance to cut them down. They have no idea of their fitness for
+anything but firewood or fruit bearing. But a great cathedral elm, with
+shadowy aisles of boughs, its choir of whispering winds and chanting
+birds, its hush and solemnity and majestic grandeur, actually conquers
+the dull human race and asserts its leave to be in a manner to which all
+hearts respond; and so the great elms of New England have got to be
+regarded with a sort of pride as among her very few crown jewels, and the
+Pitkin elm was one of these.</p>
+
+<p>But wasn't it a busy time in Mapleton! Busy is no word for it. Oh, the
+choppings, the poundings, the stoning of raisins, the projections of pies
+and puddings, the killing of turkeys&mdash;who can utter it? The very chip
+squirrels in the stone-walls, who have a family custom of making a
+market-basket of their mouths, were rushing about with chops incredibly
+distended, and their tails had an extra whisk of thanksgiving alertness.
+A squirrel's Thanksgiving dinner is an affair of moment, mind you.</p>
+
+<p>In the great roomy, clean kitchen of the deacon's house might be seen the
+lithe, comely form of Diana Pitkin presiding over the roaring great oven
+which was to engulf the armies of pies and cakes which were in due course
+of preparation on the ample tables.</p>
+
+<p>Of course you want to know who Diana Pitkin was. It was a general fact
+about this young lady that anybody who gave one look at her, whether at
+church or at home, always inquired at once with effusion, &quot;Who is she?&quot;&mdash;particularly if the inquirer was one of the masculine gender.</p>
+
+<p>This was to be accounted for by the fact that Miss Diana presented to the
+first view of the gazer a dazzling combination of pink and white, a
+flashing pair of black eyes, a ripple of dimples about the prettiest
+little rosy mouth in the world, and a frequent somewhat saucy laugh,
+which showed a set of teeth like pearls. Add to this a quick wit, a
+generous though spicy temper, and a nimble tongue, and you will not
+wonder that Miss Diana was a marked character at Mapleton, and that the
+inquiry who she was was one of the most interesting facts of statistical
+information.</p>
+
+<p>Well, she was Deacon Pitkin's second cousin, and of course just in that
+convenient relationship to the Pitkin boys which has all the advantages
+of cousinship and none of the disadvantages as may be plain to an
+ordinary observer. For if Miss Diana wished to ride or row or dance with
+any of the Pitkin boys, why shouldn't she? Were they not her cousins? But
+if any of these aforenamed young fellows advanced on the strength of
+these intimacies a presumptive claim to nearer relationship, why, then
+Diana was astonished&mdash;of course she had regarded them as her cousins! and
+she was sure she couldn't think what they could be dreaming of&mdash;&quot;A cousin
+is just like a brother, you know.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>This was just what James Pitkin did not believe in, and now as he is
+walking over hill and dale from Cambridge College to his father's house
+he is gathering up a decided resolution to tell Diana that he is not and
+will not be to her as a brother&mdash;that she must be to him all or nothing.
+James is the brightest, the tallest, and, the Mapleton girls said, the
+handsomest of the Pitkin boys. He is a strong-hearted, generous, resolute
+fellow as ever undertook to walk thirty-five miles home to eat his
+Thanksgiving dinner.</p>
+
+<img src="images/illp37.jpg" alt="Diana" align="right" />
+ <p>We are not sure that Miss Diana is not thinking of him quite as much as
+he of her, as she stands there with the long kitchen shovel in one hand,
+and one plump white arm thrust into the oven, and her little head cocked
+on one side, her brows bent, and her rosy mouth pursed up with a solemn
+sense of the importance of her judgment as she is testing the heat of her
+oven.</p>
+
+<p>Oh, Di, Di! for all you seem to have nothing on your mind but the
+responsibility for all those pumpkin pies and cranberry tarts, we
+wouldn't venture a very large wager that you are not thinking about
+cousin James under it all at this very minute, and that all this pretty
+bustling housewifeliness owes its spice and flavor to the thought that
+James is coming to the Thanksgiving dinner.</p>
+
+<p>To be sure if any one had told Di so, she would have flouted the very
+idea. Besides, she had privately informed Almira Sisson, her special
+particular confidante, that she knew Jim would come home from college
+full of conceit, and thinking that everybody must bow down to him, and
+for her part she meant to make him know his place. Of course Jim and she
+were good friends, etc., etc.</p>
+
+<p>Oh, Di, Di! you silly, naughty girl, was it for this that you stood so
+long at your looking-glass last night, arranging how you would do your
+hair for the Thanksgiving night dance? Those killing bows which you
+deliberately fabricated and lodged like bright butterflies among the dark
+waves of your hair&mdash;who were you thinking of as you made and posed them?
+Lay your hand on your heart and say who to you has ever seemed the best,
+the truest, the bravest and kindest of your friends. But Di doesn't
+trouble herself with such thoughts&mdash;she only cuts out saucy mottoes from
+the flaky white paste to lay on the red cranberry tarts, of which she
+makes a special one for each cousin. For there is Bill, the second
+eldest, who stays at home and helps work the farm. She knows that Bill
+worships her very shoe-tie, and obeys all her mandates with the faithful
+docility of a good Newfoundland dog, and Di says &quot;she thinks everything
+of Bill&mdash;she likes Bill.&quot; So she does Ed, who comes a year or two behind
+Bill, and is trembling out of bashful boyhood. So she does Rob and Ike
+and Pete and the whole healthy, ramping train who fill the Pitkin farm-house
+with a racket of boots and boys. So she has made every one a tart
+with his initial on it and a saucy motto or two, &quot;just to keep them from
+being conceited, you know.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>All day she keeps busy by the side of the deacon's wife&mdash;a delicate,
+thin, quiet little woman, with great thoughtful eyes and a step like a
+snow-flake. New England had of old times, and has still, perhaps, in her
+farm-houses, these women who seem from year to year to develop in the
+spiritual sphere as the bodily form shrinks and fades. While the cheek
+grows thin and the form spare, the will-power grows daily stronger;
+though the outer man perish, the inner man is renewed day by day. The
+worn hand that seems so weak yet holds every thread and controls every
+movement of the most complex family life, and wonders are daily
+accomplished by the presence of a woman who seems little more than a
+spirit. The New England wife-mother was the one little jeweled pivot on
+which all the wheel work of the family moved.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, haven't we done a good day's work, cousin?&quot; says Diana, when
+ninety pies of every ilk&mdash;quince, apple, cranberry, pumpkin, and mince&mdash;have
+been all safely delivered from the oven and carried up into the
+great vacant chamber, where, ranged in rows and frozen solid, they are to
+last over New Year's day! She adds, demonstratively clasping the little
+woman round the neck and leaning her bright cheek against her whitening
+hair, &quot;Haven't we been smart?&quot; And the calm, thoughtful eyes turn
+lovingly upon her as Mary Pitkin puts her arm round her and answers:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes, my daughter, you have done wonderfully. We couldn't do without
+you!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And Diana lifts her head and laughs. She likes petting and praising as a
+cat likes being stroked; but, for all that, the little puss has her claws
+and a sly notion of using them.</p>
+
+
+<br /><hr style="width: 45%;" /><br />
+<h2 align="center">CHAPTER II.</h2>
+
+
+ <p><strong>BIAH CARTER.</strong></p>
+
+<p>It was in the flush and glow of a gorgeous sunset that you might have
+seen the dark form of the Pitkin farm-house rising on a green hill
+against the orange sky.</p>
+
+<p>The red house, with its overhanging canopy of elm, stood out like an old
+missal picture done on a gold ground.</p>
+
+<p>Through the glimmer of the yellow twilight might be seen the stacks of
+dry corn-stalks and heaps of golden pumpkins in the neighboring fields,
+from which the slow oxen were bringing home a cart well laden with farm
+produce.</p>
+
+<p>It was the hour before supper time, and Biah Carter, the deacon's hired
+man, was leaning against a fence, waiting for his evening meal; indulging
+the while in a stream of conversational wisdom which seemed to flow all
+the more freely from having been dammed up through the labors of the day.</p>
+
+<img src="images/illp43.jpg" alt="Biah" align="left" />
+ <p>Biah was, in those far distant times of simplicity a &quot;mute inglorious&quot;
+newspaper man. Newspapers in those days were as rare and unheard of as
+steam cars or the telegraph, but Biah had within him all the making of a
+thriving modern reporter, and no paper to use it on. He was a walking
+biographical and statistical dictionary of all the affairs of the good
+folks of Mapleton. He knew every piece of furniture in their houses, and
+what they gave for it; every foot of land, and what it was worth; every
+ox, ass and sheep; every man, woman and child in town. And Biah could
+give pretty shrewd character pictures also, and whoever wanted to inform
+himself of the status of any person or thing in Mapleton would have done
+well to have turned the faucet of Biah's stream of talk, and watched it
+respectfully as it came, for it was commonly conceded that what Biah
+Carter didn't know about Mapleton was hardly worth knowing.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Putty piece o' property, this 'ere farm,&quot; he said, surveying the scene
+around him with the air of a connoisseur. &quot;None o' yer stun pastur land
+where the sheep can't get their noses down through the rocks without a
+file to sharpen 'em! Deacon Pitkin did a putty fair stroke o' business
+when he swapped off his old place for this 'ere. That are old place was
+all swamp land and stun pastur; wa'n't good for raisin' nothin' but
+juniper bushes and bull frogs. But I tell <i>yeu</i>&quot; preceded Biah, with a
+shrewd wink, &quot;that are mortgage pinches the deacon; works him like a dose
+of aloes and picry, it does. Deacon fairly gets lean on't.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Why,&quot; said Abner Jenks, a stolid plow boy to whom this stream of remark
+was addressed; &quot;this 'ere place ain't mortgaged, is it? Du tell, naow!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Why, yis; don't ye know that are? Why there's risin' two thousand
+dollars due on this 'ere farm, and if the deacon don't scratch for it and
+pay up squar to the minit, old Squire Norcross'll foreclose on him. Old
+squire hain't no bowels, I tell yeu, and the deacon knows he hain't: and
+I tell you it keeps the deacon dancin' lively as corn on a hot shovel.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The deacon's a master hand to work,&quot; said Abner; &quot;so's the boys.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Wai, yis, the deacon is,&quot; said Biah, turning contemplatively to the
+farmhouse; &quot;there ain't a crittur in that are house that there ain't the
+most work got out of 'em that ken be, down to Jed and Sam, the little
+uns. They work like tigers, every soul of 'em, from four o'clock in she
+morning' as long as they can see, and Mis' Pitkin she works all the
+evening&mdash;woman's work ain't never done, they say.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;She's a good woman, Mis' Pitkin is,&quot; said Abner, &quot;and she's a smart
+worker.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>In this phrase Abner solemnly expressed his highest ideal of a human
+being.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Smart ain't no word for 't,&quot; said Biah, with alertness. &quot;Declar for 't,
+the grit o' that are woman beats me. Had eight children right along in a
+string 'thout stoppin', done all her own work, never kep' no gal nor
+nothin'; allers up and dressed; allers to meetin' Sunday, and to the
+prayer-meetin' weekly, and never stops workin': when 'tan't one thing
+it's another&mdash;cookin', washin', ironin', making butter and cheese, and
+'tween spells cuttin' and sewin', and if she ain't doin' that, why, she's
+braidin' straw to sell to the store or knitting&mdash;she's the perpetual
+motion ready found, Mis' Pitkin is.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Want ter know,&quot; said the auditor, as a sort of musical rest in this
+monotone of talk. &quot;Ain't she smart, though!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Smart! Well, I should think she was. She's over and into everything
+that's goin' on in that house. The deacon wouldn't know himself without
+her; nor wouldn't none of them boys, they just live out of her; she kind
+o' keeps 'em all up.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Wal, she ain't a hefty woman, naow,&quot; said the interlocutor, who seemed
+to be possessed by a dim idea that worth must be weighed by the pound.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Law bless you, no! She's a little crittur; nothin' to look to, but every
+bit in her is <i>live</i>. She looks pale, kind o' slips round still like
+moonshine, but where anything's to be done, there Mis' Pitkin is; and her
+hand allers goes to the right spot, and things is done afore ye know it.
+That are woman's kind o' still; she'll slip off and be gone to heaven
+some day afore folks know it. There comes the deacon and Jim over the
+hill. Jim walked home from college day 'fore yesterday, and turned right
+in to-day to help get in the taters, workin' right along. Deacon was
+awful grouty.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What was the matter o' the deacon?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, the mortgage kind o' works him. The time to pay comes round putty
+soon, and the deacon's face allers goes down long as yer arm. 'Tis a
+putty tight pull havin' Jim in college, losin' his work and havin' term
+bills and things to pay. Them are college folks charges <i>up</i>, I tell you.
+I seen it works the deacon, I heard him a-jawin' Jim 'bout it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What made Jim go to college?&quot; said Abner with slow wonder in his heavy
+face.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, he allers was sot on eddication, and Mis' Pitkin she's sot on't,
+too, in her softly way, and softly women is them that giner'lly carries
+their p'ints, fust or last.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But <i>there's</i> one that <i>ain't</i> softly!&quot; Biah suddenly continued, as the
+vision of a black-haired, bright-eyed girl suddenly stepped forth from
+the doorway, and stood shading her face with her hands, looking towards
+the sunset. The evening light lit up a jaunty spray of golden rod that
+she had wreathed in her wavy hair, and gave a glow to the rounded
+outlines of her handsome form. &quot;There's a sparkler for you! And no saint,
+neither!&quot; was Biah's comment. &quot;That crittur has got more prances and
+capers in her than any three-year-old filly I knows on. He'll be cunning
+that ever gets a bridle on her.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Some says she's going to hev Jim Pitkin, and some says it's Bill,&quot; said
+Abner, delighted to be able to add his mite of gossip to the stream while
+it was flowing.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;She's sweet on Jim while he's round, and she's sweet on Bill when Jim's
+up to college, and between um she gets took round to everything that
+going. She gives one a word over one shoulder, and one over t'other, and
+if the Lord above knows what's in that gal's mind or what she's up to, he
+knows more than I do, or she either, else I lose my bet.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Biah made this admission with a firmness that might have been a model to
+theologians or philosophers in general. There was a point, it appeared,
+where he was not omniscient. His universal statistical knowledge had a
+limit.</p>
+
+
+<br /><hr style="width: 45%;" /><br />
+<h2 align="center">CHAPTER III.</h2>
+
+
+ <p><strong>THE SHADOW.</strong></p>
+
+<p>There is no moment of life, however festive, that does not involve the
+near presence of a possible tragedy. When the concert of life is playing
+the gayest and airiest music, it requires only the change of a little
+flat or sharp to modulate into the minor key.</p>
+
+<p>There seemed at first glance only the elements of joyousness and gayety
+in the surroundings at the Pitkin farm. Thanksgiving was come&mdash;the
+family, healthy, rosy, and noisy, were all under the one roof-tree. There
+was energy, youth, intelligence, beauty, a pair of lovers on the eve of
+betrothal&mdash;just in that misty, golden twilight that precedes the full
+sunrise of avowed and accepted love&mdash;and yet behind it all was walking
+with stealthy step the shadow of a coming sorrow.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What in the world ails James?&quot; said Diana as she retreated from the door
+and surveyed him at a distance from her chamber window. His face was like
+a landscape over which a thunder-cloud has drifted, and he walked beside
+his father with a peculiar air of proud displeasure and repression.</p>
+
+<p>At that moment the young man was struggling with the bitterest sorrow
+that can befall youth&mdash;the breaking up of his life-purpose. He had just
+come to a decision to sacrifice his hopes of education, his man's
+ambition, his love, his home and family, and become a wanderer on the
+face of the earth. How this befell requires a sketch of character.</p>
+
+<p>Deacon Silas Pitkin was a fair specimen of a class of men not uncommon in
+New England&mdash;men too sensitive for the severe physical conditions of New
+England life, and therefore both suffering and inflicting suffering. He
+was a man of the finest moral traits, of incorruptible probity, of
+scrupulous honor, of an exacting conscientiousness, and of a sincere
+piety. But he had begun life with nothing; his whole standing in the
+world had been gained inch by inch by the most unremitting economy and
+self-denial, and he was a man of little capacity for hope, of whom it was
+said, in popular phraseology, that he &quot;took things hard.&quot; He was never
+sanguine of good, always expectant of evil, and seemed to view life like
+a sentinel forbidden to sleep and constantly under arms.</p>
+
+<p>For such a man to be harassed by a mortgage upon his homestead was a
+steady wear and drain upon his vitality. There were times when a positive
+horror of darkness came down upon him&mdash;when his wife's untroubled,
+patient hopefulness seemed to him like recklessness, when the smallest
+item of expense was an intolerable burden, and the very daily bread of
+life was full of bitterness; and when these paroxysms were upon him, one
+of the heaviest of his burdens was the support of his son in college. It
+was true that he was proud of his son's talents and sympathized with his
+love for learning&mdash;he had to the full that sense of the value of
+education which is the very vital force of the New England mind&mdash;and in
+an hour when things looked brighter to him he had given his consent to
+the scheme of a college education freely.</p>
+
+<p>James was industrious, frugal, energetic, and had engaged to pay the most
+of his own expenses by teaching in the long winter vacations. But
+unfortunately this year the Mapleton Academy, which had been promised to
+him for the winter term, had been taken away by a little maneuver of
+local politics and given to another, thus leaving him without resource.
+This disappointment, coming just at the time when the yearly interest
+upon the mortgage was due, had brought upon his father one of those
+paroxysms of helpless gloom and discouragement in which the very world
+itself seemed clothed in sack-cloth.</p>
+
+<p>From the time that he heard the Academy was gone, Deacon Silas lay awake
+nights in the blackness of darkness. &quot;We shall all go to the poorhouse
+together&mdash;that's where it will end,&quot; he said, as he tossed restlessly in
+the dark.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh no, no, my dear,&quot; said his wife, with those serene eyes that had
+looked through so many gloomy hours; &quot;we must cast our care on God.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It's easy for women to talk. You don't have the interest money to pay,
+you are perfectly reckless of expense. Nothing would do but James must go
+to college, and now see what it's bringing us to!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Why, father, I thought you yourself were in favor of it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, I did wrong then. You persuaded me into it. I'd no business to
+have listened to you and Jim and got all this load on my shoulders.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Yet Mary Pitkin knew in her own calm, clear head that she had not been
+reckless of expense. The yearly interest money was ever before her, and
+her own incessant toils had wrought no small portion of what was needed
+to pay it. Her butter at the store commanded the very highest price, her
+straw braiding sold for a little more than that of any other hand, and
+she had calculated all the returns so exactly that she felt sure that the
+interest money for that year was safe. She had seen her husband pass
+through this nervous crisis many times before, and she had learned to be
+blamed in silence, for she was a woman out of whom all selfness had long
+since died, leaving only the tender pity of the nurse and the consoler.
+Her soul rested on her Saviour, the one ever-present, inseparable friend;
+and when it did no good to speak to her husband, she spoke to her God for
+him, and so was peaceful and peace-giving.</p>
+
+<p>Even her husband himself felt her strengthening, rest-giving power, and
+for this reason he bore down on her with the burden of all his tremors and
+his cares; for while he disputed, he yet believed her, and rested upon
+her with an utter helpless trust, as the good angel of his house. Had
+<i>she</i> for a moment given way to apprehension, had <i>her</i> step been a
+thought less firm, her eye less peaceful, then indeed the world itself
+would have seemed to be sinking under his feet. Meanwhile she was to him
+that kind of relief which we derive from a person to whom we may say
+everything without a fear of its harming them. He felt quite sure that,
+say what he would, Mary would always be hopeful and courageous; and he
+felt some secret idea that his own gloomy forebodings were of service in
+restricting and sobering what seemed to him her too sanguine nature. He
+blindly reverenced, without ability fully to comprehend, her exalted
+religious fervor and the quietude of soul that it brought. But he did not
+know through how many silent conflicts, how many prayers, how many tears,
+how many hopes resigned and sorrows welcomed, she had come into that last
+refuge of sorrowful souls, that immovable peace when all life's anguish
+ceases and the will of God becomes the final rest.</p>
+
+<p>But, unhappily for this present crisis, there was, as there often is in
+family life, just enough of the father's nature in the son to bring them
+into collision with each other. James had the same nervously anxious
+nature, the same intense feeling of responsibility, the same tendency
+towards morbid earnestness; and on that day there had come collision.</p>
+
+<p>His father had poured forth upon him his fears and apprehensions in a
+manner which implied a censure on his son, as being willing to accept a
+life of scholarly ease while his father and mother were, as he expressed
+it, &quot;working their lives away.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But I tell you, father, as God is my witness, I <i>mean</i> to pay all; you
+shall not suffer; interest and principal&mdash;all that my work would bring&mdash;I
+engage to pay back.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You!&mdash;you'll never have anything! You'll be a poor man as long as you
+live. Lost the Academy this<br />
+ Fall&mdash;that tells the story!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But, father, it wasn't my fault that I lost the Academy.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It's no matter whose fault it was&mdash;that's neither here nor there&mdash;you
+lost it, and here you are with the vacation before you and nothing to do!
+There's your mother, she's working herself to death; she never gets any
+rest. I expect she'll go off in a consumption one of these days.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;There, there, father! that's enough! Please don't say any more. You'll
+see I <i>will</i> find something to do!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>There are words spoken at times in life that do not sound bitter though
+they come from a pitiable depth of anguish, and as James turned from his
+father he had taken a resolution that convulsed him with pain; his strong
+arms quivered with the repressed agony, and he hastily sought a distant
+part of the field, and began cutting and stacking corn-stalks with a
+nervous energy.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Why, ye work like thunder!&quot; was Biah's comment. &quot;Book l'arnin' hain't
+spiled ye yet; your arms are good for suthin'.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes, my arms are good for something, and I'll use them for something,&quot;
+said Jim.</p>
+
+<p>There was raging a tempest in his soul. For a young fellow of a Puritan
+education in those days to be angry with his father was somewhat that
+seemed to him as awful a sacrilege as to be angry with his God, and yet
+he felt that his father had been bitterly, cruelly unjust towards him. He
+had driven economy to the most stringent extremes; he had avoided the
+intimacy of his class fellows, lest he should be drawn into needless
+expenses; he had borne with shabby clothing and mean fare among better
+dressed and richer associates, and been willing to bear it. He had
+studied faithfully, unremittingly, for two years, but at the moment he
+turned from his father the throb that wrung his heart was the giving up
+of all. He had in his pocket a letter from his townsman and schoolmate,
+Sam Allen, mate of an East Indiaman just fitting out at Salem, and it
+said:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;We are going to sail with a picked crew, and we want one just such a
+fellow as you for third mate. Come along, and you can go right up, and
+your college mathematics will be all the better for us. Come right off,
+and your berth will be ready, and away for round the world!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Here, to be sure, was immediate position&mdash;wages&mdash;employment&mdash;freedom from
+the intolerable burden of dependence; but it was accepted at the
+sacrifice of all his life's hopes. True, that in those days the
+experiment of a sea-faring life had often, even in instances which he
+recalled, brought forth fortune and an ability to settle down in peaceful
+competence in after life. But there was Diana. Would she wait for him?
+Encircled on all sides with lovers, would she keep faith with an
+adventurer gone for an indefinite quest? The desponding, self-distrusting
+side of his nature said, &quot;No. Why should she?&quot; Then, to go was to give
+up Diana&mdash;to make up his mind to have her belong to some other. Then
+there was his mother. An unutterable reverential pathos always to him
+encircled the idea of his mother. Her life to him seemed a hard one. From
+the outside, as he viewed it, it was all self-sacrifice and renunciation.
+Yet he knew that she had set her heart on an education for him, as much
+as it could be set on anything earthly. He was her pride, her hope; and
+just now that very thought was full of bitterness. There was no help for
+it; he must not let her work herself to death for him; he would make the
+household vessel lighter by the throwing himself into the sea, to sink or
+swim as might happen; and then, perhaps, he might come back with money to
+help them all.</p>
+
+<p>All this was what was surging and boiling in his mind when he came in
+from his work to the supper that night.</p>
+
+
+<br /><hr style="width: 45%;" /><br />
+<h2 align="center">CHAPTER IV.</h2>
+
+
+ <p><strong>THE GOOD-BY.</strong></p>
+
+<p>Diana Pitkin was like some of the fruits of her native hills, full of
+juices which tend to sweetness in maturity, but which when not quite ripe
+have a pretty decided dash of sharpness. There are grapes that require a
+frost to ripen them, and Diana was somewhat akin to these.</p>
+
+<p>She was a mettlesome, warm-blooded creature, full of the energy and
+audacity of youth, to whom as yet life was only a frolic and a play
+spell. Work never tired her. She ate heartily, slept peacefully, went to
+bed laughing, and got up in a merry humor in the morning. Diana's laugh
+was as early a note as the song of birds. Such a nature is not at first
+sympathetic. It has in it some of the unconscious cruelty which belongs
+to nature itself, whose sunshine never pales at human trouble. Eyes that
+have never wept cannot comprehend sorrow. Moreover, a lively girl of
+eighteen, looking at life out of eyes which bewilder others with their
+brightness, does not always see the world truly, and is sometimes judged
+to be heartless when she is only immature.</p>
+
+<p>Nothing was further from Diana's thoughts than that any grave trouble was
+overhanging her lover's mind&mdash;for her lover she very well knew that James
+was, and she had arranged beforehand to herself very pretty little
+comedies of life, to be duly enacted in the long vacation, in which James
+was to appear as the suitor, and she, not too soon nor with too much
+eagerness, was at last to acknowledge to him how much he was to her. But
+meanwhile he was not to be too presumptuous. It was not set down in the
+cards that she should be too gracious or make his way too easy. When,
+therefore, he brushed by her hastily, on entering the house, with a
+flushed cheek and frowning brow, and gave no glance of admiration at the
+pretty toilet she had found time to make, she was slightly indignant. She
+was as ignorant of the pang which went like an arrow through his heart at
+the sight of her as the bobolink which whirrs and chitters and tweedles
+over a grave.</p>
+
+<p>She turned away and commenced a kitten-like frolic with Bill, who was
+always only too happy to second any of her motions, and readily promised
+that after supper she would go with him a walk of half a mile over to a
+neighbor's, where was a corn-husking. A great golden lamp of a harvest
+moon was already coming up in the fading flush of the evening sky, and
+she promised herself much amusement in watching the result of her
+maneuver on James.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;He'll see at any rate that I am not waiting his beck and call. Next
+time, if he wants my company he can ask for it in season. I'm not going
+to indulge him in sulks, not I. These college fellows worry over books
+till they hurt their digestion, and then have the blues and look as if
+the world was coming to an end.&quot; And Diana went to the looking-glass and
+rearranged the spray of golden-rod in her hair and nodded at herself
+defiantly, and then turned to help get on the supper.</p>
+
+<p>The Pitkin folk that night sat down to an ample feast, over which the
+impending Thanksgiving shed its hilarity. There was not only the
+inevitable great pewter platter, scoured to silver brightness, in the
+center of the table, and piled with solid masses of boiled beef, pork,
+cabbage and all sorts of vegetables, and the equally inevitable smoking
+loaf of rye and Indian bread, to accompany the pot of baked pork and
+beans, but there were specimens of all the newly-made Thanksgiving pies
+filling every available space on the table. Diana set special value on
+herself as a pie artist, and she had taxed her ingenuity this year to
+invent new varieties, which were received with bursts of applause by the
+boys. These sat down to the table in democratic equality,&mdash;Biah Carter
+and Abner with all the sons of the family, old and young, each eager,
+hungry and noisy; and over all, with moonlight calmness and steadiness,
+Mary Pitkin ruled and presided, dispensing to each his portion in due
+season, while Diana, restless and mischievous as a sprite, seemed to be
+possessed with an elfin spirit of drollery, venting itself in sundry
+little tricks and antics which drew ready laughs from the boys and
+reproving glances from the deacon. For the deacon was that night in one
+of his severest humors. As Biah Carter afterwards remarked of that night,
+&quot;You could feel there was thunder in the air somewhere round. The deacon
+had got on about his longest face, and when the deacon's face is about
+down to its wust, why, it would stop a robin singin'&mdash;there couldn't
+nothin' stan' it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>To-night the severely cut lines of his face had even more than usual of
+haggard sternness, and the handsome features of James beside him, in
+their fixed gravity, presented that singular likeness which often comes
+out between father and son in seasons of mental emotion. Diana in vain
+sought to draw a laugh from her cousin. In pouring his home-brewed beer
+she contrived to spatter him, but he wiped it off without a smile, and
+let pass in silence some arrows of raillery that she had directed at his
+somber face.</p>
+
+<p>When they rose from table, however, he followed her into the pantry.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Diana, will you take a walk with me to-night?&quot; he said, in a voice husky
+with repressed feeling.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;To-night! Why, I have just promised Bill to go with him over to the
+husking at the Jenks's. Why don't you go with us? We're going to have
+lots of fun,&quot; she added with an innocent air of not perceiving his
+gravity.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I can't,&quot; he said. &quot;Besides I wanted to walk with you alone. I had
+something special I wanted to say.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Bless me, how you frighten one! You look solemn as a hearse; but I
+promised to go with Bill to-night, and I suspect another time will do
+just as well. What you have to say will <i>keep</i>, I suppose,&quot; she said
+mischievously.</p>
+
+<p>He turned away quickly.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I should really like to know what's the matter with you to-night,&quot; she
+added, but as she spoke he went up-stairs and shut the door.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;He's cross to-night,&quot; was Diana's comment. &quot;Well, he'll have to get over
+his pet. I sha'n't mind it!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Up-stairs in his room James began the work of putting up the bundle with
+which he was to go forth to seek his fortune. There stood his books,
+silent and dear witnesses of the world of hope and culture and refined
+enjoyment he had been meaning to enter. He was to know them no more.
+Their mute faces seemed to look at him mournfully as parting friends. He
+rapidly made his selection, for that night he was to be off in time to
+reach the vessel before she sailed, and he felt even glad to avoid the
+Thanksgiving festivities for which he had so little relish. Diana's
+frolicsome gaiety seemed heart-breaking to him, on the same principle
+that the poet sings:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;How can ye chant, ye little birds,
+And I sae weary, fu' o' care?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>To the heart struck through with its first experiences of real suffering
+all nature is full of cruelty, and the young and light-hearted are a
+large part of nature.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;She has no feeling,&quot; he said to himself. &quot;Well, there is one reason the
+more for my going. <i>She</i> won't break her heart for me; nobody loves me
+but mother, and it's for her sake I must go. She mustn't work herself to
+death for me.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And then he sat down in the window to write a note to be given to his
+mother after he had sailed, for he could not trust himself to tell her
+what he was about to do. He knew that she would try to persuade him to
+stay, and he felt faint-hearted when he thought of her. &quot;She would sit
+up early and late, and work for me to the last gasp,&quot; he thought, &quot;but
+father was right. It is selfish of me to take it,&quot; and so he sat trying
+to fashion his parting note into a tone of cheerfulness.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;My dear mother,&quot; he wrote, &quot;this will come to you when I have set off on
+a four years' voyage round the world. Father has convinced me that it's
+time for me to be doing something for myself; and I couldn't get a school
+to keep&mdash;and, after all, education is got other ways than at college.
+It's hard to go, because I love home, and hard because you will miss me&mdash;though
+no one else will. But father may rely upon it, I will not be a
+burden on him another day. Sink or swim, I shall <i>never</i> come back till I
+have enough to do for myself, and you too. So good bye, dear mother. I
+know you will always pray for me, and wherever I am I shall try to do
+just as I think you would want me to do. I know your prayers will follow
+me, and I shall always be your affectionate son.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;P.S.&mdash;The boys may have those chestnuts and walnuts in my room&mdash;and in
+my drawer there is a bit of ribbon with a locket on it I was going to
+give cousin Diana. Perhaps she won't care for it, though; but if she
+does, she is welcome to it&mdash;it may put her in mind of old times.&quot;'</p>
+
+<p>And this is all he said, with bitterness in his heart, as he leaned on
+the window and looked out at the great yellow moon that was shining so
+bright as to show the golden hues of the overhanging elm boughs and the
+scarlet of an adjoining maple.</p>
+
+<p>A light ripple of laughter came up from below, and a chestnut thrown up
+struck him on the hand, and he saw Diana and Bill step from out the
+shadowy porch.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;There's a chestnut for you, Mr. Owl,&quot; she called, gaily, &quot;if you <i>will</i>
+stay moping up there! Come, now, it's a splendid evening; <i>won't</i> you
+come?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No, thank you. I sha'n't be missed,&quot; was the reply.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;That's true enough; the loss is your own. Good bye, Mr. Philosopher.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Good bye, Diana.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Something in the tone struck strangely through her heart. It was the
+voice of what Diana never had felt yet&mdash;deep suffering&mdash;and she gave a
+little shiver.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What an <i>awfully</i> solemn voice James has sometimes,&quot; she said; and then
+added, with a laugh, &quot;it would make his fortune as a Methodist minister.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The sound of the light laugh and little snatches and echoes of gay talk
+came back like heartless elves to mock Jim's sorrow.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;So much for <i>her</i>,&quot; he said, and turned to go and look for his mother.</p>
+
+
+<br /><hr style="width: 45%;" /><br />
+<h2 align="center">CHAPTER V.</h2>
+
+
+ <p><strong>MOTHER AND SON.</strong></p>
+
+<p>He knew where he should find her. There was a little, low work-room
+adjoining the kitchen that was his mother's sanctum. There stood her
+work-basket&mdash;there were always piles and piles of work, begun or
+finished; and there also her few books at hand, to be glanced into in
+rare snatches of leisure in her busy life.</p>
+
+<p>The old times New England house mother was not a mere unreflective drudge
+of domestic toil. She was a reader and a thinker, keenly appreciative in
+intellectual regions. The literature of that day in New England was
+sparse; but whatever there was, whether in this country or in England,
+that was noteworthy, was matter of keen interest, and Mrs. Pitkin's small
+library was very dear to her. No nun in a convent under vows of
+abstinence ever practiced more rigorous self-denial than she did in the
+restraints and government of intellectual tastes and desires. Her son was
+dear to her as the fulfillment and expression of her unsatisfied craving
+for knowledge, the possessor of those fair fields of thought which duty
+forbade her to explore.</p>
+
+<p>James stood and looked in at the window, and saw her sorting and
+arranging the family mending, busy over piles of stockings and shirts,
+while on the table beside her lay her open Bible, and she was singing to
+herself, in a low, sweet undertone, one of the favorite minor-keyed
+melodies of those days:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;O God, our help in ages past,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;Our hope for years to come,<br />
+Our shelter from the stormy blast<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;And our eternal home!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>An indescribable feeling, blended of pity and reverence, swelled in his
+heart as he looked at her and marked the whitening hair, the thin worn
+little hands so busy with their love work, and thought of all the bearing
+and forbearing, the waiting, the watching, the long-suffering that had
+made up her life for so many years. The very look of exquisite calm and
+resolved strength in her patient eyes and in the gentle lines of her face
+had something that seemed to him sad and awful&mdash;as the purely spiritual
+always looks to the more animal nature. With his blood bounding and
+tingling in his veins, his strong arms pulsating with life, and his heart
+full of a man's vigor and resolve, his mother's life seemed to him to be
+one of weariness and drudgery, of constant, unceasing self-abnegation.
+Calm he knew she was, always sustained, never faltering; but her victory
+was one which, like the spiritual sweetness in the face of the dying, had
+something of sadness for the living heart.</p>
+
+<p>He opened the door and came in, sat down by her on the floor, and laid
+his head in her lap.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Mother, you never rest; you never stop working.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, no!&quot; she said gaily, &quot;I'm just going to stop now. I had only a few
+last things I wanted to get done.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Mother, I can't bear to think of you; your life is too hard. We all have
+our amusements, our rests, our changes; your work is never done; you are
+worn out, and get no time to read, no time for anything but drudgery.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Don't say drudgery, my boy&mdash;work done for those we love <i>never</i> is
+drudgery. I'm so happy to have you all around me I never feel it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But, mother, you are not strong, and I don't see how you can hold out to
+do all you do.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well,&quot; she said simply, &quot;when my strength is all gone I ask God for
+more, and he always gives it. 'They that wait on the Lord shall renew
+their strength.'&quot; And her hand involuntarily fell on the open Bible.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes, I know it,&quot; he said, following her hand with his eyes&mdash;while
+&quot;Mother,&quot; he said, &quot;I want you to give me your Bible and take mine. I
+think yours would do me more good.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>There was a little bright flush and a pleased smile on his mother's face&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Certainly, my boy, I will.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I see you have marked your favorite places,&quot; he added. &quot;It will seem
+like hearing you speak to read them.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;With all my heart,&quot; she added, taking up the Bible and kissing his
+forehead as she put it into his hands.</p>
+
+<p>There was a struggle in his heart how to say farewell without saying it&mdash;without
+ letting her know that he was going to leave her. He clasped her
+in his arms and kissed her again and again.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Mother,&quot; he said, &quot;if I ever get into heaven it will be through you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Don't say that, my son&mdash;it must be through a better Friend than I am&mdash;who loves you more than I do. I have not died for you&mdash;He did.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, that I knew where I might find him, then. You I can see&mdash;Him I
+cannot.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>His mother looked at him with a face full of radiance, pity, and hope.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I feel sure you <i>will</i>&quot; she said. &quot;You are consecrated,&quot; she added, in a
+low voice, laying her hand on his head.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Amen,&quot; said James, in a reverential tone. He felt that she was at that
+moment&mdash;as she often<br />
+ was&mdash;silently speaking to One invisible of and for
+him, and the sense of it stole over him like a benediction. There was a
+pause of tender silence for many minutes.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, I must not keep you up any longer, mother dear&mdash;it's time you were
+resting. Good-night.&quot; And with a long embrace and kiss they separated. He
+had yet fifteen miles to walk to reach the midnight stage that was to
+convey him to Salem.</p>
+
+<p>As he was starting from the house with his bundle in his hand, the sound
+of a gay laugh came through the distant shrubbery. It was Diana and Bill
+returning from the husking. Hastily he concealed himself behind a clump
+of old lilac bushes till they emerged into the moonlight and passed into
+the house. Diana was in one of those paroxysms of young girl frolic which
+are the effervescence of young, healthy blood, as natural as the
+gyrations of a bobolink on a clover head. James was thinking of dark
+nights and stormy seas, years of exile, mother's sorrows, home perhaps
+never to be seen more, and the laugh jarred on him like a terrible
+discord. He watched her into the house, turned, and was gone.</p>
+
+
+<br /><hr style="width: 45%;" /><br />
+<h2 align="center">CHAPTER VI.</h2>
+
+
+ <p><strong>GONE TO SEA.</strong></p>
+
+<p>A little way on in his moonlight walk James's ears were saluted by the
+sound of some one whistling and crackling through the bushes, and soon
+Biah Carter, emerged into the moonlight, having been out to the same
+husking where Diana and Bill had been enjoying themselves. The sight of
+him resolved a doubt which had been agitating James's mind. The note to
+his mother which was to explain his absence and the reasons for it was
+still in his coat-pocket, and he had designed sending it back by some
+messenger at the tavern where he took the midnight stage; but here was a
+more trusty party. It involved, to be sure, the necessity of taking Biah
+into his confidence. James was well aware that to tell that acute
+individual the least particle of a story was like starting a gimlet in a
+pine board&mdash;there was no stop till it had gone through. So he told him in
+brief that a good berth had been offered to him on the <i>Eastern Star</i>,
+and he meant to take it to relieve his father of the pressure of his
+education.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Wal naow&mdash;you don't say so,&quot; was Biah's commentary. &quot;Wal, yis, 'tis hard
+sleddin' for the deacon&mdash;drefful hard sleddin.' Wal, naow, s'pose you're
+disapp'inted&mdash;shouldn't wonder&mdash;jes' so. Eddication's a good thing, but
+'taint the only thing naow; folks larns a sight rubbin' round the world&mdash;and
+then they make money. Jes' see, there's Cap'n Stebbins and Cap'n
+Andrews and Cap'n Merryweather&mdash;all livin' on good farms, with good, nice
+houses, all got goin' to sea. Expect Mis' Pitkin'll take it sort o' hard,
+she's so sot on you; but she's allers sayin' things is for the best, and
+maybe she'll come to think so 'bout this&mdash;folks gen'ally does when they
+can't help themselves. Wal, yis, naow&mdash;goin' to walk to the cross-road
+tavern? better not. Jest wait a minit and I'll hitch up and take ye over.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Thank you, Biah, but I can't stop, and I'd rather walk, so I won't
+trouble you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Wal, look here&mdash;don't ye want a sort o' nest-egg? I've got fifty silver
+dollars laid up: you take it on venture and give me half what it brings.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Thank you, Biah. If you'll trust me with it I'll hope to do something
+for us both.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Biah went into the house, and after some fumbling brought out a canvas
+bag, which he put into James's hand.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Wanted to go to sea confoundedly myself, but there's Mariar Jane&mdash;she
+won't hear on't, and turns on the water-works if I peep a single word.
+Farmin's drefful slow, but when a feller's got a gal he's got a cap'n; he
+has to mind orders. So you jest trade and we'll go sheers. I think
+consid'able of you, and I expect you'll make it go as fur as anybody.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I'll try my best, you may believe, Biah,&quot; said James, shaking the hard
+hand heartily, as he turned on his way towards the cross-roads tavern.</p>
+
+<p>The whole village of Maplewood on Thanksgiving Day morning was possessed
+of the fact that James Pitkin had gone off to sea in the <i>Eastern Star</i>,
+for Biah had felt all the sense of importance which the possession of a
+startling piece of intelligence gives to one, and took occasion to call
+at the tavern and store on his way up and make the most of his
+information, so that by the time the bell rang for service the news might
+be said to be everywhere. The minister's general custom on Thanksgiving
+Day was to get off a political sermon reviewing the State of New England,
+the United States of America, and Europe, Asia, and Africa; but it may be
+doubted if all the affairs of all these continents produced as much
+sensation among the girls in the singers' seat that day as did the news
+that James Pitkin had gone to sea on a four years' voyage. Curious eyes
+were cast on Diana Pitkin, and many were the whispers and speculations as
+to the part she might have had in the move; and certainly she looked
+paler and graver than usual, and some thought they could detect traces of
+tears on her cheeks. Some noticed in the tones of her voice that day, as
+they rose in the soprano, a tremor and pathos never remarked <br />
+before&mdash;the
+unconscious utterance of a new sense of sorrow, awakened in a soul that
+up to this time had never known a grief.</p>
+
+<p>For the letter had fallen on the heads of the Pitkin household like a
+thunderbolt. Biah came in to breakfast and gave it to Mrs. Pitkin, saying
+that James had handed him that last night, on his way over to take the
+midnight stage to Salem, where he was going to sail on the <i>Eastern Star</i>
+to-day&mdash;no doubt he's off to sea by this time. A confused sound of
+exclamations went up around the table, while Mrs. Pitkin, pale and calm,
+read the letter and then passed it to her husband without a word. The
+bright, fixed color in Diana's face had meanwhile been slowly ebbing
+away, till, with cheeks and lips pale as ashes, she hastily rose and left
+the table and went to her room. A strange, new, terrible pain&mdash;a
+sensation like being choked or smothered&mdash;a rush of mixed emotions&mdash;a
+fearful sense of some inexorable, unalterable crisis having come of her
+girlish folly&mdash;overwhelmed her. Again she remembered the deep tones of
+his good-by, and how she had only mocked at his emotion. She sat down and
+leaned her head on her hands in a tearless, confused sorrow.</p>
+
+<p>Deacon' Pitkin was at first more shocked and overwhelmed than his wife.
+His yesterday's talk with James had no such serious purpose. It had been
+only the escape-valve for his hypochondriac forebodings of the future,
+and nothing was farther from his thoughts than having it bear fruit in
+any such decisive movement on the part of his son. In fact, he secretly
+was proud of his talents and his scholarship, and had set his heart on
+his going through college, and had no more serious purpose in what he
+said the day before than the general one of making his son feel the
+difficulties and straits he was put to for him. Young men were tempted at
+college to be too expensive, he thought, and to forget what it cost their
+parents at home. In short, the whole thing had been merely the passing
+off of a paroxysm of hypochondria, and he had already begun to be
+satisfied that he should raise his interest money that year without
+material difficulty. The letter showed him too keenly the depth of the
+suffering he had inflicted on his son, and when he had read it he cast a
+sort of helpless, questioning look on his wife, and said, after an
+interval of silence:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, mother!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>There was something quite pathetic in the appealing look and voice.'</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, father,&quot; she answered in subdued tones; &quot;all we can do now is to
+<i>leave</i> it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>LEAVE IT!</p>
+
+<p>Those were words often in that woman's mouth, and they expressed that
+habit of her life which made her victorious over all troubles, that habit
+of trust in the Infinite Will that actually could and did <i>leave</i> every
+accomplished event in His hand, without murmur and without conflict.</p>
+
+<p>If there was any one thing in her uniformly self-denied life that had
+been a personal ambition and a personal desire, it had been that her son
+should have a college education. It was the center of her earthly wishes,
+hopes and efforts. That wish had been cut off in a moment, that hope had
+sunk under her feet, and now only remained to her the task of comforting
+the undisciplined soul whose unguided utterances had wrought the
+mischief. It was not the first time that, wounded by a loving hand in
+this dark struggle of life, she had suppressed the pain of her own hurt
+that he that had wounded her might the better forgive himself.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Dear father,&quot; she said to him, when over and over he blamed himself for
+his yesterday's harsh words to his son, &quot;don't worry about it now; you
+didn't mean it. James is a good boy, and he'll see it right at last; and
+he is in God's hands, and we must leave him there. He overrules all.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>When Mrs. Pitkin turned from her husband she sought Diana in her room.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, cousin! cousin!&quot; said the girl, throwing herself into her arms.
+&quot;<i>Is</i> this true? Is James <i>gone</i>? Can't we do <i>any</i> thing? Can't we get
+him back? I've been thinking it over. Oh, if the ship wouldn't sail! and
+I'd go to Salem and beg him to come back, on my knees. Oh, if I had only
+known yesterday! Oh, cousin, cousin! he wanted to talk with me, and I
+wouldn't hear him!&mdash;oh, if I only had, I could have persuaded him out of
+it! Oh, why didn't I know?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;There, there, dear child! We must accept it just as it is, now that it
+is done. Don't feel so. We must try to look at the good.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, show me that letter,&quot; said Diana; and Mrs. Pitkin, hoping to
+tranquilize her, gave her James's note. &quot;He thinks I don't care for him,&quot;
+she said, reading it hastily. &quot;Well, I don't wonder! But I <i>do</i> care! I
+love him better than anybody or anything under the sun, and I never will
+forget him; he's a brave, noble, good man, and I shall love him as long
+as I live&mdash;I don't care who knows it! Give me that locket, cousin, and
+write to him that I shall wear it to my grave.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Dear child, there is no writing to him.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, dear! that's the worst. Oh, that horrid, horrid sea! It's like
+death&mdash;you don't know where they are, and you can't hear from them&mdash;and a
+four years' voyage! Oh, dear! oh, dear!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Don't, dear child, don't; you distress me,&quot; said Mrs. Pitkin.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes, that's just like me,&quot; said Diana, wiping her eyes. &quot;Here I am
+thinking only of myself, and you that have had your heart broken are
+trying to comfort me, and trying to comfort Cousin Silas. We have both of
+us scolded and flouted him away, and now you, who suffer the most of
+either of us, spend your breath to comfort us. It's just like you. But,
+cousin, I'll try to be good and comfort you. I'll try to be a daughter to
+you. You need somebody to think of you, for you never think of yourself.
+Let's go in his room,&quot; she said, and taking the mother by the hand they
+crossed to the empty room. There was his writing-table, there his
+forsaken books, his papers, some of his clothes hanging in his closet.
+Mrs. Pitkin, opening a drawer, took out a locket hung upon a bit of blue
+ribbon, where there were two locks of hair, one of which Diana recognized
+as her own, and one of James's. She hastily hung it about her neck and
+concealed it in her bosom, laying her hand hard upon it, as if she would
+still the beatings of her heart.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It seems like a death,&quot; she said. &quot;Don't you think the ocean is like
+death&mdash;wide, dark, stormy, unknown? We cannot speak to or hear from them
+that are on it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But people can and do come back from the sea,&quot; said the mother,
+soothingly. &quot;I trust, in God's own time, we shall see James back.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But what if we never should? Oh, cousin! I can't help thinking of that.
+There was Michael Davis,&mdash;you know&mdash;the ship was never heard from.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well,&quot; said the mother, after a moment's pause and a choking down of
+some rising emotion, and turning to a table on which lay a Bible, she
+opened and read: &quot;If I take the wings of the morning and dwell in the
+uttermost parts of the sea, even there shall Thy hand lead me, and Thy
+right hand shall hold me.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The THEE in this psalm was not to her a name, a shadow, a cipher, to
+designate the unknowable&mdash;it stood for the inseparable Heart-friend&mdash;the
+Father seeing in secret, on whose bosom all her tears of sorrow had been
+shed, the Comforter and Guide forever dwelling in her soul, and giving
+peace where the world gave only trouble.</p>
+
+<p>Diana beheld her face as it had been the face of an angel. She kissed
+her, and turned away in silence.</p>
+
+
+<br /><hr style="width: 45%;" /><br />
+<h2 align="center">CHAPTER VII.</h2>
+
+
+ <p><strong>THANKSGIVING AGAIN.</strong></p>
+
+<p>Seven years had passed and once more the Thanksgiving tide was in
+Mapleton. This year it had come cold and frosty. Chill driving autumn
+storms had stripped the painted glories from the trees, and remorseless
+frosts had chased the hardy ranks of the asters and golden-rods back and
+back till scarce a blossom could be found in the deepest and most
+sequestered spots. The great elm over the Pitkin <br />
+farm-house had been
+stripped of its golden glory, and now rose against the yellow evening
+sky, with its infinite delicacies of net work and tracery, in their way
+quite as beautiful as the full pomp of summer foliage. The air without
+was keen and frosty, and the knotted twigs of the branches knocked
+against the roof and rattled and ticked against the upper window panes as
+the chill evening wind swept through them.</p>
+
+<p>Seven long years had passed since James sailed. Years of watching, of
+waiting, of cheerful patience, at first, and at last of resigned sorrow.
+Once they heard from James, at the first port where the ship stopped. It
+was a letter dear to his mother's heart, manly, resigned and Christian;
+expressing full purpose to work with God in whatever calling he should
+labor, and cheerful hopes of the future. Then came a long, long silence,
+and then tidings that the <i>Eastern Star</i> had been wrecked on a reef in
+the Indian ocean! The mother had given back her treasure into the same
+beloved hands whence she first received him. &quot;I gave him to God, and God
+took him,&quot; she said. &quot;I shall have him again in God's time.&quot; This was how
+she settled the whole matter with herself. Diana had mourned with all the
+vehement intensity of her being, but out of the deep baptism of sorrow
+she had emerged with a new and nobler nature. The vain, trifling,
+laughing Undine had received a soul and was a true woman. She devoted
+herself to James's mother with an utter self-sacrificing devotion,
+resolved as far as in her lay to be both son and daughter to her. She
+read, and studied, and fitted herself as a teacher in a neighboring
+academy, and persisted in claiming the right of a daughter to place all
+the amount of her earnings in the family purse.</p>
+
+<p>And this year there was special need. With all his care, with all his
+hard work and that of his family, Deacon Silas never had been able to
+raise money to annihilate the debt upon the farm.</p>
+
+<p>There seemed to be a perfect fatality about it. Let them all make what
+exertions they might, just as they were hoping for a sum that should
+exceed the interest and begin the work of settling the principal would
+come some loss that would throw them all back. One year their barn was
+burned just as they had housed their hay. On another a valuable horse
+died, and then there were fits of sickness among the children, and poor
+crops in the field, and low prices in the market; in short, as Biah
+remarked, &quot;The deacon's luck did seem to be a sort o' streaky, for do
+what you might there's always suthin' to put him back.&quot; As the younger
+boys grew up the deacon had ceased to hire help, and Biah had transferred
+his services to Squire Jones, a rich landholder in the neighborhood, who
+wanted some one to overlook his place. The increased wages had enabled
+him to give a home to Maria Jane and a start in life to two or three
+sturdy little American citizens who played around his house door.
+Nevertheless, Biah never lost sight of the &quot;deacon's folks&quot; in his
+multifarious cares, and never missed an opportunity either of doing them
+a good turn or of picking up any stray item of domestic news as to how
+matters were going on in that interior. He had privately broached the
+theory to Miss Briskett, &quot;that arter all it was James that Diany (he
+always pronounced all names as if they ended in y) was sot on, and that
+she took it so hard, his goin' off, that it did beat all! Seemed to make
+another gal of her; he shouldn't wonder if she'd come out and jine the
+church.&quot; And Diana not long after unconsciously fulfilled Biah's
+predictions.</p>
+
+<p>Of late Biah's good offices had been in special requisition, as the
+deacon had been for nearly a month on a sick bed with one of those
+interminable attacks of typhus fever which used to prevail in old times,
+when the doctor did everything he could to make it certain that a man
+once brought down with sickness never should rise again.</p>
+
+<p>But Silas Pitkin had a constitution derived through an indefinite
+distance from a temperate, hard-working, godly ancestry, and so withstood
+both death and the doctor, and was alive and in a convalescent state,
+which gave hope of his being able to carve the turkey at his Thanksgiving
+dinner.</p>
+
+<p>The evening sunlight was just fading out of the little &quot;keeping-room,&quot;
+adjoining the bed-room, where the convalescent now was able to sit up
+most of the day. A cot bed had been placed there, designed for him to lie
+down upon in intervals of fatigue. At present, however, he was sitting in
+his arm-chair, complacently watching the blaze of the hickory fire, or
+following placidly the motions of his wife's knitting-needles.</p>
+
+<p>There was an air of calmness and repose on his thin, worn features that
+never was there in days of old: the haggard, anxious lines had been
+smoothed away, and that spiritual expression which sickness and sorrow
+sometimes develops on the human face reigned in its place. It was the
+&quot;clear shining after rain.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Wife,&quot; he said, &quot;read me something I can't quite remember out of the
+Bible. It's in the eighth of Deuteronomy, the second verse.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Pitkin opened the big family Bible on the stand, and read, &quot;And thou
+shalt remember all the way in which the Lord thy God hath led thee these
+forty years in the wilderness, to humble thee and to prove thee and to
+know what is in thy heart, and whether thou wouldst keep his commandments
+or no. And he humbled thee, and suffered thee to hunger, and fed thee
+with manna, which thou knewest not, neither did thy fathers know, that he
+might make thee know that man doth not live by bread alone, but by every
+word that proceedeth out of the mouth of the Lord doth man live.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;There, that's it,&quot; interrupted the deacon. &quot;That's what I've been
+thinking of as I've lain here sick and helpless. I've fought hard to keep
+things straight and clear the farm, but it's pleased the Lord to bring me
+low. I've had to lie still and leave all in his hands.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And where better could you leave all?&quot; said his wife, with a radiant
+smile.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, just so. I've been saying, 'Here I am, Lord; do with me as seemeth
+to thee good,' and I feel a great quiet now. I think it's doubtful if we
+make up the interest this year. I don't know what Bill may get for the
+hay: but I don't see much prospect of raisin' on't; and yet I don't
+worry. Even if it's the Lord's will to have the place sold up and we be
+turned out in our old age, I don't seem to worry about it. His will be
+done.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>There was a sound of rattling wheels at this moment, and anon there came
+a brush and flutter of garments, and Diana rushed in, all breezy with the
+freshness of out-door air, and caught Mrs. Pitkin in her arms and kissed
+her first and then the deacon with effusion.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Here I come for Thanksgiving,&quot; she said, in a rich, clear tone, &quot;and
+here,&quot; she added, drawing a roll of bills from her bosom, and putting it
+into the deacon's hand, &quot;here's the interest money for this year. I got
+it all myself, because I wanted to show you I could be good for
+something.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Thank you, dear daughter,&quot; said Mrs. Pitkin. &quot;I felt sure some way would
+be found and now I see <i>what</i>.&quot; She added, kissing Diana and patting her
+rosy cheek, &quot;a very pleasant, pretty way it is, too.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I was afraid that Uncle Silas would worry and put himself back again
+about the interest money,&quot; said Diana.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, daughter,&quot; said the Deacon, &quot;it's a pity we should go through all
+we do in this world and not learn anything by it. I hope the Lord has
+taught me not to worry, but just do my best and leave myself and
+everything else in his hands. We can't help ourselves&mdash;we can't make one
+hair white or black. Why should we wear our lives out fretting? If I'd a
+known <i>that</i> years ago it would a been better for us all.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Never mind, father, you know it now,&quot; said his wife, with a face serene
+as a star. In this last gift of quietude of soul to her husband she
+recognized the answer to her prayers of years.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well now,&quot; said Diana, running to the window, &quot;I should like to know
+what Biah Carter is coming here about.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, Biah's been very kind to us in this sickness,&quot; said Mrs. Pitkin, as
+Biah's feet resounded on the scraper.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Good evenin', Deacon,&quot; said Biah, entering, &quot;Good evenin', Mrs. Pitkin.
+Sarvant, ma'am,&quot; to Diana&mdash;&quot;how ye all gettin' on?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Nicely, Biah&mdash;well as can be,&quot; said Mrs. Pitkin.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Wal, you see I was up to the store with some o' Squire Jones's bell
+flowers. Sim Coan he said he wanted some to sell, and so I took up a
+couple o' barrels, and I see the darndest big letter there for the
+Deacon. Miss Briskett she was in, lookin' at it, and so was Deacon
+Simson's wife; she come in arter some cinnamon sticks. Wal, and they all
+looked at it and talked it over, and couldn't none o' 'em for their lives
+think what it's all about, it was sich an almighty thick letter,&quot; said
+Biah, drawing out a long, legal-looking envelope and putting it in the
+Deacon's hands.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I hope there isn't bad news in it,&quot; said Silas Pitkin, the color
+flushing apprehensively in his pale cheeks as he felt for his spectacles.</p>
+
+<p>There was an agitated, silent pause while he broke the seals and took out
+two documents. One was the mortgage on his farm and the other a receipt
+in full for the money owed on it! The Deacon turned the papers to and
+fro, gazed on them with a dazed, uncertain air and then said:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Why, mother, do look! <i>Is</i> this so? Do I read it right?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Certainly, you do,&quot; said Diana, reading over his shoulder. &quot;Somebody's
+paid that debt, uncle!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Thank God!&quot; said Mrs. Pitkin, softly; &quot;He has done it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Wal, I swow!&quot; said Biah, after having turned the paper in his hands, &quot;if
+this 'ere don't beat all! There's old Squire Norcross's name on't. It's
+the receipt, full and square. What's come over the old crittur? He must
+a' got religion in his old' age; but if grace made him do <i>that</i>, grace
+has done a tough job, that's all; but it's done anyhow! and that's all
+you need to care about. Wal, wal, I must git along hum&mdash;Mariar Jane'll be
+wonderin' where I be. Good night, all on ye!&quot; and Biah's retreating wagon
+wheels were off in the distance, rattling furiously, for, notwithstanding
+Maria Jane's wondering, Biah was resolved not to let an hour slip by
+without declaring the wonderful tidings at the store.</p>
+
+<p>The Pitkin family were seated at supper in the big kitchen, all jubilant
+over the recent news. The father, radiant with the pleasantest
+excitement, had for the first time come out to take his place at the
+family board. In the seven years since the beginning of our story the
+Pitkin boys had been growing apace, and now surrounded the table quite an
+army of rosy-cheeked, jolly young fellows, who to-night were in a perfect
+tumult of animal gaiety. Diana twinkled and dimpled and flung her
+sparkles round among them, and there was unbounded jollity.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Who's that looking in at the window?&quot; called out Sam, aged ten, who sat
+opposite the house door. At that moment the door opened, and a dark
+stranger, bronzed with travel and dressed in foreign-looking garments,
+entered.</p>
+
+<p>He stood one moment, all looking curiously at him, then crossing the
+floor, he kneeled down by Mrs. Pitkin's chair, and throwing off his cap,
+looked her close in the eyes.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Mother, don't you know me?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>She looked at him one moment with that still earnestness peculiar to
+herself, and then fell into his arms. &quot;O my son, my son!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>There were a few moments of indescribable confusion, during which Diana
+retreated, pale and breathless, to a neighboring window, and stood with
+her hand over the locket which she had always worn upon her heart.</p>
+
+<p>After a few moments he came, and she felt him by her.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What, cousin!&quot; he said; &quot;no welcome from you?&quot; She gave one look, and he
+took her in his arms. She felt the beating of his heart, and he felt
+hers. Neither spoke, yet each felt at that moment sure of the other.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I say, boys,&quot; said James, &quot;who'll help bring in my sea chest?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Never was sea chest more triumphantly ushered; it was a contest who
+should get near enough to take some part in it's introduction, and soon
+it was open, and James began distributing its contents.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;There, mother,&quot; said he, undoing a heavy black India satin and shaking
+out its folds, &quot;I'm determined you shall have a dress fit for you; and
+here's a real India shawl to go with it. Get those on and you'll look as
+much like a queen among women as you ought to.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Then followed something for every member of the family, received with
+frantic demonstrations of applause and appreciation by the more juvenile.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, what's that?&quot; said Sam, as a package done up in silk paper and tied
+with silver cord was disclosed.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;That's&mdash;oh&mdash;that's my wife's wedding-dress,&quot; said James, unfolding and
+shaking out a rich satin; &quot;and here's her shawl,&quot; drawing out an
+embroidered box, scented with sandal-wood.</p>
+
+<p>The boys all looked at Diana, and Diana laughed and grew pale and red all
+in the same breath, as James, folding back the silk and shawl in their
+boxes, handed them to her.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Pitkin laughed and kissed her, and said, gaily, &quot;All right, my
+daughter&mdash;just right.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>What an evening that was, to be sure! What a confusion of joy and
+gladness! What a half-telling of a hundred things that it would take
+weeks to tell.</p>
+
+<p>James had paid the mortgage and had money to spare; and how he got it
+all, and how he was saved at sea, and where he went, and what befell him
+here and there, he promised to be telling them for six months to come.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, your father mustn't be kept up too late,&quot; said Mrs. Pitkin. &quot;Let's
+have prayers now, and then<br />
+to-morrow we'll be fresh to talk more.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>So they gathered around the wide kitchen fire and the family Bible was
+brought out.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Father,&quot; said James, drawing out of his pocket the Bible his mother had
+given him at parting, &quot;let me read my Psalm; it has been my Psalm ever
+since I left you.&quot; There was a solemn thrill in the little circle as
+James read the verses:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;They that go down to the sea in ships, that do business in great waters;
+these see the works of the Lord and his wonders in the deep. For he
+commandeth and raiseth the stormy wind which lifteth up the waves
+thereof. They mount up to the heaven; they go down again to the depths:
+their soul is melted because of trouble. Then they cry unto the Lord in
+their trouble, and he bringeth them out of their distresses. He maketh
+the storm a calm, so that the waves thereof are still. Then are they glad
+because they be quiet, so he bringeth them unto their desired haven. Oh
+that men would praise the Lord for his goodness, and for his wonderful
+works to the children of men!&quot;</p>
+
+<br /><hr style="width: 45%;" /><br />
+
+<p>When all had left the old kitchen, James and Diana sat by the yet glowing
+hearth and listened to the crickets, and talked over all the past and the
+future.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And now,&quot; said James, &quot;it's seven years since I left you, and to-morrow
+is the seventh Thanksgiving, and I've always set my heart on getting home
+to be married Thanksgiving evening.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But, dear me, Jim, we can't. There isn't time.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Why not?&mdash;we've got all the time there is!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But the wedding-dress can't be made, possibly.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, that can wait till the week after. You are pretty enough without
+it!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But what will they all say?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Who cares what they say? I don't,&quot; said James. &quot;The fact is, I've set my
+heart on it, and you owe me something for the way you treated me the last
+Thanksgiving I was here, seven years ago. Now don't you?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, yes, I do, so have it just as you will.&quot; And so it was accomplished
+the next evening.</p>
+
+<p>And among the wonders of Mapleton Miss Briskett announced it as chief,
+that it was the first time she ever heard of a bride that was married
+first and had her wedding-dress made the week after! She never had heard
+of such a thing.</p>
+
+<p>Yet, strange to say, for years after neither of the parties concerned
+found themselves a bit the worse for it.</p>
+
+
+<br /><a name="xmas"></a><hr style="width: 45%;" />
+
+<h1 align="center"> THE FIRST CHRISTMAS OF NEW ENGLAND. </h1>
+ <hr style="width: 45%;" /><br />
+<p>
+The shores of the Atlantic coast of America may well be a terror to
+navigators. They present an inexorable wall, against which forbidding and
+angry waves incessantly dash, and around which shifting winds continually
+rave. The approaches to safe harbors are few in number, intricate and
+difficult, requiring the skill of practiced pilots.</p>
+
+<p>But, as if with a pitying spirit of hospitality, old Cape Cod, breaking
+from the iron line of the coast, like a generous-hearted sailor intent on
+helpfulness, stretches an hundred miles outward, and, curving his
+sheltering arms in a protective circle, gives a noble harborage. Of this
+harbor of Cape Cod the report of our governmental Coast Survey thus
+speaks: &quot;It is one of the finest harbors for ships of war on the whole of
+our Atlantic coast. The width and freedom from obstruction of every kind
+at its entrance and the extent of sea room upon the bay side make it
+accessible to vessels of the largest class in almost all winds. This
+advantage, its capacity, depth of water, excellent anchorage, and the
+complete shelter it affords from all winds, render it one of the most
+valuable ship harbors upon our coast.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>We have been thus particular in our mention of this place, because here,
+in this harbor, opened the first scene in the most wonderful drama of
+modern history.</p>
+
+<p>Let us look into the magic mirror of the past and see this harbor of Cape
+Cod on the morning of the 11th of November, in the year of our Lord 1620,
+as described to us in the simple words of the pilgrims: &quot;A pleasant bay,
+circled round, except the entrance, which is about four miles over from
+land to land, <i>compassed about to the very sea</i> with oaks, pines,
+junipers, sassafras, and other sweet weeds. It is a harbor wherein a
+thousand sail of ship may safely ride.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Such are the woody shores of Cape Cod as we look back upon them in that
+distant November day, and the harbor lies like a great crystal gem on the
+bosom of a virgin wilderness. The &quot;fir trees, the pine trees, and the
+bay,&quot; rejoice together in freedom, for as yet the axe has spared them; in
+the noble bay no shipping has found shelter; no voice or sound of
+civilized man has broken the sweet calm of the forest. The oak leaves,
+now turned to crimson and maroon by the autumn frosts, reflect themselves
+in flushes of color on the still waters. The golden leaves of the
+sassafras yet cling to the branches, though their life has passed, and
+every brushing wind bears showers of them down to the water. Here and
+there the dark spires of the cedar and the green leaves and red berries
+of the holly contrast with these lighter tints. The forest foliage grows
+down to the water's edge, so that the dash of the rising and falling tide
+washes into the shaggy cedar boughs which here and there lean over and
+dip in the waves.</p>
+
+<p>No voice or sound from earth or sky proclaims that anything unwonted is
+coming or doing on these shores to-day. The wandering Indians, moving
+their hunting-camps along the woodland paths, saw no sign in the stars
+that morning, and no different color in the sunrise from what had been in
+the days of their fathers. Panther and wild-cat under their furry coats
+felt no thrill of coming dispossession, and saw nothing through their
+great golden eyes but the dawning of a day just like all other days&mdash;when
+&quot;the sun ariseth and they gather themselves into their dens and lay them
+down.&quot; And yet alike to Indian, panther, and wild-cat, to every oak of
+the forest, to every foot of land in America, from the stormy Atlantic to
+the broad Pacific, that day was a day of days.</p>
+
+<p>There had been stormy and windy weather, but now dawned on the earth one
+of those still, golden times of November, full of dreamy rest and tender
+calm. The skies above were blue and fair, and the waters of the curving
+bay were a downward sky&mdash;a magical under-world, wherein the crimson oaks,
+and the dusk plumage of the pine, and the red holly-berries, and yellow
+sassafras leaves, all flickered and glinted in wavering bands of color as
+soft winds swayed the glassy floor of waters.</p>
+
+<p>In a moment, there is heard in the silent bay a sound of a rush and
+ripple, different from the lap of the many-tongued waves on the shore;
+and, silently as a cloud, with white wings spread, a little vessel glides
+into the harbor.</p>
+
+<p>A little craft is she&mdash;not larger than the fishing-smacks that ply their
+course along our coasts in summer; but her decks are crowded with men,
+women, and children, looking out with joyous curiosity on the beautiful
+bay, where, after many dangers and storms, they first have found safe
+shelter and hopeful harbor.</p>
+
+<p>That small, unknown ship was the <i>Mayflower;</i> those men and women who
+crowded her decks were that little handful of God's own wheat which had
+been flailed by adversity, tossed and winnowed till every husk of earthly
+selfishness and self-will had been beaten away from them and left only
+pure seed, fit for the planting of a new world. It was old Master Cotton
+Mather who said of them, &quot;The Lord sifted three countries to find seed
+wherewith to plant America.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Hark now to the hearty cry of the sailors, as with a plash and a cheer
+the anchor goes down, just in the deep water inside of Long Point; and
+then, says their journal, &quot;being now passed the vast ocean and sea of
+troubles, before their preparation unto further proceedings as to seek
+out a place for habitation, they fell down on their knees and blessed the
+Lord, the God of heaven, who had brought them over the vast and furious
+ocean, and delivered them from all perils and miseries thereof.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Let us draw nigh and mingle with this singular act of worship. Elder
+Brewster, with his well-worn Geneva Bible in hand, leads the thanksgiving
+in words which, though thousands of years old, seem as if written for the
+occasion of that hour:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Praise the Lord because he is good, for his mercy endureth forever. Let
+them which have been redeemed of the Lord show how he delivereth them
+from the hand of the oppressor, And gathered them out of the lands: from
+the east, and from the west, from the north, and from the south, when
+they wandered in deserts and wildernesses out of the way and found no
+city to dwell in. Both hungry and thirsty, their soul failed in them.
+Then they cried unto the Lord in their troubles, and he delivered them in
+their distresses. And led them forth by the right way, that they might go
+unto a city of habitation. They that go down to the sea and occupy by the
+great waters: they see the works of the Lord and his wonders in the deep.
+For he commandeth and raiseth the stormy wind, and it lifteth up the
+waves thereof. They mount up to heaven, and descend to the deep: so that
+their soul melteth for trouble. They are tossed to and fro, and stagger
+like a drunken man, and all their cunning is gone. Then they cry unto the
+Lord in their trouble, and he bringeth them out of their distresses. He
+turneth the storm to a calm, so that the waves thereof are still. When
+they are quieted they are glad, and he bringeth them unto the haven where
+they would be.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>As yet, the treasures of sacred song which are the liturgy of modern
+Christians had not arisen in the church. There was no Watts, and no
+Wesley, in the days of the Pilgrims; they brought with them in each
+family, as the most precious of household possessions, a thick volume
+containing, first, the Book of Common Prayer, with the Psalter appointed
+to be read in churches; second, the whole Bible in the Geneva
+translation, which was the basis on which our present English translation
+was made; and, third, the Psalms of David, in meter, by Sternhold and
+Hopkins, with the music notes of the tunes, adapted to singing. Therefore
+it was that our little band were able to lift up their voices together in
+song and that the noble tones of Old Hundred for the first time floated
+over the silent bay and mingled with the sound of winds and waters,
+consecrating our American shores.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;All people that on earth do dwell,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;Sing to the Lord with cheerful voice:<br />
+Him serve with fear, His praise forthtell;<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;Come ye before Him and rejoice.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The Lord, ye know, is God indeed;<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;Without our aid He did us make;<br />
+We are His flock, He doth us feed,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;And for his sheep He doth us take.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;O enter then His gates with praise,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;Approach with joy His courts unto:<br />
+Praise, laud, and bless His name always,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;For it is seemly so to do.
+</p>
+<p>&quot;For why? The Lord our God is good,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;His mercy is forever sure;<br />
+His truth at all times firmly stood,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;And shall from age to age endure.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>This grand hymn rose and swelled and vibrated in the still November air;
+hile in between the pauses came the warble of birds, the scream of the
+jay, the hoarse call of hawk and eagle, going on with their forest ways
+all unmindful of the new era which had been ushered in with those solemn
+sounds.</p>
+
+
+<br /><hr style="width: 45%;" /><br />
+<h2 align="center">CHAPTER II.</h2>
+
+ <p><strong>THE FIRST DAY ON SHORE.</strong></p>
+
+<p>The sound of prayer and psalm-singing died away on the shore, and the
+little band, rising from their knees, saluted each other in that genial
+humor which always possesses a ship's company when they have weathered
+the ocean and come to land together.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, Master Jones, here we' are,&quot; said Elder Brewster cheerily to the
+ship-master.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Aye, aye, sir, here we be sure enough; but I've had many a shrewd doubt
+of this upshot. I tell you, sirs, when that beam amidships sprung and
+cracked Master Coppin here said we must give over&mdash;hands couldn't bring
+her through. Thou rememberest, Master Coppin?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;That I do,&quot; replied Master Coppin, the first mate, a stocky, cheery
+sailor, with a face red and shining as a glazed bun. &quot;I said then that
+praying might save her, perhaps, but nothing else would.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Praying wouldn't have saved her,&quot; said Master Brown, the carpenter, &quot;if
+I had not put in that screw and worked the beam to her place again.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Aye, aye, Master Carpenter,&quot; said Elder Brewster, &quot;the Lord hath
+abundance of the needful ever to his hand. When He wills to answer
+prayer, there will be found both carpenter and screws in their season, I
+trow.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, Deb,&quot; said Master Coppin, pinching the ear of a great mastiff
+bitch who sat by him, &quot;what sayest thou? Give us thy mind on it, old
+girl; say, wilt thou go deer-hunting with us yonder?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The dog, who was full of the excitement of all around, wagged her tail
+and gave three tremendous barks, whereat a little spaniel with curly
+ears, that stood by Rose Standish, barked aloud.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well done!&quot; said Captain Miles Standish. &quot;Why, here is a salute of
+ordnance! Old Deb is in the spirit of the thing and opens out like a
+cannon. The old girl is spoiling for a chase in those woods.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Father, may I go ashore? I want to see the country,&quot; said Wrestling
+Brewster, a bright, sturdy boy, creeping up to Elder Brewster and
+touching his father's elbow.</p>
+
+<p>Thereat there was a crying to the different mothers of girls and boys
+tired of being cooped up,&mdash;&quot;Oh, mother, mother, ask that we may all go
+ashore.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;For my part,&quot; said old Margery the serving-maid to Elder Brewster, &quot;I
+want to go ashore to wash and be decent, for there isn't a soul of us
+hath anything fit for Christians. There be springs of water, I trow.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Never doubt it, my woman,&quot; said Elder Brewster; &quot;but all things in their
+order. How say you, Mr. Carver? You are our governor. What order shall we
+take?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;We must have up the shallop,&quot; said Carver, &quot;and send a picked company to
+see what entertainment there may be for us on shore.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And I counsel that all go well armed,&quot; quoth Captain Miles Standish,
+&quot;for these men of the forest are sharper than a thorn-hedge. What! what!&quot;
+he said, looking over to the eager group of girls and boys, &quot;ye would go
+ashore, would ye? Why, the lions and bears will make one mouthful of ye.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I'm not afraid of lions,&quot; said young Wrestling Brewster in an aside to
+little Love Winslow, a golden-haired, pale-cheeked child, of a tender and
+spiritual beauty of face. &quot;I'd like to meet a lion,&quot; he added, &quot;and serve
+him as Samson did. I'd get honey out of him, I promise.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, there you are, young Master Boastful!&quot; said old Margery. &quot;Mind the
+old saying, 'Brag is a good dog, but holdfast is better.'&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Dear husband,&quot; said Rose Standish, &quot;wilt thou go ashore in this
+company?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Why, aye, sweetheart, what else am I come for&mdash;and who should go if not
+I?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Thou art so very venturesome, Miles.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Even so, my Rose of the wilderness. Why else am I come on this quest?
+Not being good enough to be in your church nor one of the saints, I come
+for an arm of flesh to them, and so, here goes on my armor.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And as he spoke, he buried his frank, good-natured countenance in an iron
+headpiece, and Rose hastened to help him adjust his corselet.</p>
+
+<p>The clang of armor, the bustle and motion of men and children, the
+barking of dogs, and the cheery Heave-o! of the sailors marked the
+setting off of the party which comprised some of the gravest, and wisest,
+as well as the youngest and most able-bodied of the ship's' company. The
+impatient children ran in a group and clustered on the side of the ship
+to see them go. Old Deb, with her two half-grown pups, barked and yelped
+after her master in the boat, running up and down the vessel's deck with
+piteous cries of impatience.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Come hither, dear old Deb,&quot; said little Love Winslow, running up and
+throwing her arms round the dog's rough neck; &quot;thou must not take on so;
+thy master will be back again; so be a good dog now, and lie down.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And the great rough mastiff quieted down under her caresses, and sitting
+down by her she patted and played with her, with her little thin hands.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;See the darling,&quot; said Rose Standish, &quot;what away that baby hath! In all
+the roughness and the terrors of the sea she hath been like a little
+sunbeam to us&mdash;yet she is so frail!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;She hath been marked in the womb by the troubles her mother bore,&quot; said
+old Margery, shaking her head. &quot;She never had the ways of other babies,
+but hath ever that wistful look&mdash;and her eyes are brighter than they
+should be. Mistress Winslow will never raise that child&mdash;now mark me!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Take care!&quot; said Rose, &quot;let not her mother hear you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Why, look at her beside of Wrestling Brewster, or Faith Carver. They are
+flesh and blood, and she looks as if she had been made out of sunshine.
+'Tis a sweet babe as ever was; but fitter for the kingdom of heaven than
+our rough life&mdash;deary me! a hard time we have had of it. I suppose it's
+all best, but I don't know.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, never talk that way, Margery,&quot; said Rose Standish; &quot;we must all keep
+up heart, our own and one another's.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Ah, well a day&mdash;I suppose so, but then I look at my good Master Brewster
+and remember how, when I was a girl, he was at our good Queen Elizabeth's
+court, ruffling it with the best, and everybody said that there wasn't a
+young man that had good fortune to equal his. Why, Master Davidson, the
+Queen's Secretary of State, thought all the world of him; and when he
+went to Holland on the Queen's business, he must take him along; and when
+he took the keys of the cities there, it was my master that he trusted
+them to, who used to sleep with them under his pillow. I remember when he
+came home to the Queen's court, wearing the great gold chain that the
+States had given him. Ah me! I little thought he would ever come to a
+poor man's coat, then!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, good Margery,&quot; said Rose, &quot;it isn't the coat, but the heart under
+it&mdash;that's the thing. Thou hast more cause of pride in thy master's
+poverty than in his riches.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Maybe so&mdash;I don't know,&quot; said Margery, &quot;but he hath had many a sore
+trouble in worldly things&mdash;driven and hunted from place to place in
+England, clapt into prison, and all he had eaten up with fines and
+charges and costs.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;All that is because he chose rather to suffer affliction with the people
+of God than to enjoy the pleasures of sin for a season,&quot; said Rose; &quot;he
+shall have his reward by and by.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, there be good men and godly in Old England that get to heaven in
+better coats and with easy carriages and fine houses and servants, and I
+would my master had been of such. But if he must come to the wilderness I
+will come with him. Gracious me! what noise is that?&quot; she exclaimed, as a
+sudden report of firearms from below struck her ear. &quot;I do believe there
+is that Frank Billington at the gunpowder; that boy will never leave, I
+do believe, till he hath blown up the ship's company.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>In fact, it appeared that young master Frank, impatient of the absence of
+his father, had toled Wrestling Brewster and two other of the boys down
+into the cabin to show them his skill in managing his father's fowling-piece,
+had burst the gun, scattering the pieces about the cabin.</p>
+
+<p>Margery soon appeared, dragging the culprit after her. &quot;Look here now,
+Master Malapert, see what you'll get when your father comes home! Lord a
+mercy! here was half a keg of powder standing open! Enough to have blown
+us all up! Here, Master Clarke, Master Clarke, come and keep this boy
+with you till his father come back, or we be all sent sky high before we
+know.&quot;</p>
+
+<br /><hr style="width: 45%;" /><br />
+
+<p>At even tide the boat came back laden to the water's edge with the first
+gettings and givings from the new soil of America. There is a richness
+and sweetness gleaming through the brief records of these men in their
+journals, which shows how the new land was seen through a fond and tender
+medium, half poetic; and its new products lend a savor to them of
+somewhat foreign and rare.</p>
+
+<p>Of this day's expedition the record is thus:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;That day, so soon as we could, we set ashore some fifteen or sixteen men
+well armed, with some to fetch wood, for we had none left; as also to see
+what the land was and what inhabitants they could meet with. They found
+it to be a small neck of land on this side where we lay in the bay, and
+on the further side the sea, the ground or earth, sand-hills, much like
+the downs in Holland, but much better; the crust of the earth a spit's
+depth of excellent black earth; all wooded with oaks, pines, sassafras,
+juniper, birch, holly, vines, some ash and walnut; the wood for the most
+part open and without underwood, fit either to walk or to ride in. At
+night our people returned and found not any people or inhabitants, and
+laded their boat with juniper, which smelled very sweet and strong, and
+of which we burned for the most part while we were there.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;See there,&quot; said little Love Winslow, &quot;what fine red berries Captain
+Miles Standish hath brought.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yea, my little maid, there is a brave lot of holly berries for thee to
+dress the cabin withal. We shall not want for Christmas greens here,
+though the houses and churches are yet to come.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yea, Brother Miles,&quot; said Elder Brewster, &quot;the trees of the Lord are
+full of sap in this land, even the cedars of Lebanon, which he hath
+planted. It hath the look to me of a land which the Lord our God hath
+blessed.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;There is a most excellent depth of black, rich earth,&quot; said Carver, &quot;and
+a great tangle of grapevines, whereon the leaves in many places yet hung,
+and we picked up stores of walnuts under a tree&mdash;not so big as our
+English ones&mdash;but sweet and well-flavored.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Know ye, brethren, what in this land smelleth sweetest to me?&quot; said
+Elder Brewster. &quot;It is the smell of liberty. The soil is free&mdash;no man
+hath claim thereon. In Old England a poor man may starve right on his
+mother's bosom; there may be stores of fish in the river, and bird and
+fowl flying, and deer running by, and yet though a man's children be
+crying for bread, an' he catch a fish or snare a bird, he shall be
+snatched up and hanged. This is a sore evil in Old England; but we will
+make a country here for the poor to dwell in, where the wild fruits and
+fish and fowl shall be the inheritance of whosoever will have them; and
+every man shall have his portion of our good mother earth, with no lords
+and no bishops to harry and distrain, and worry with taxes and tythes.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Amen, brother!&quot; said Miles Standish, &quot;and thereto I give my best
+endeavors with sword and buckler.&quot;</p>
+
+
+<br /><hr style="width: 45%;" /><br />
+<h2 align="center">CHAPTER III.</h2>
+
+ <p><strong>CHRISTMAS TIDE IN PLYMOUTH HARBOR.</strong></p>
+
+<p>For the rest of that month of November the <i>Mayflower</i> lay at anchor in
+Cape Cod harbor, and formed a floating home for the women and children,
+while the men were out exploring the country, with a careful and steady
+shrewdness and good sense, to determine where should be the site of the
+future colony. The record of their adventures is given in their journals
+with that sweet homeliness of phrase which hangs about the Old English of
+that period like the smell of rosemary in an ancient cabinet.</p>
+
+<p>We are told of a sort of picnic day, when &quot;our women went on shore to
+wash and all to refresh themselves;&quot; and fancy the times there must have
+been among the little company, while the mothers sorted and washed and
+dried the linen, and the children, under the keeping of the old mastiffs
+and with many cautions against the wolves and wild cubs, once more had
+liberty to play in the green wood. For it appears in these journals how,
+in one case, the little spaniel of John Goodman was chased by two wolves,
+and was fain to take refuge between his master's legs for shelter.
+Goodman &quot;had nothing in hand,&quot; says the journal, &quot;but took up a stick and
+threw at one of them and hit him, and they presently ran away, but came
+again. He got a pale-board in his hand, but they both sat on their tails
+a good while, grinning at him, and then went their way and left him.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Such little touches show what the care of families must have been in the
+woodland picnics, and why the ship was, on the whole, the safest refuge
+for the women and children.</p>
+
+<p>We are told, moreover, how the party who had struck off into the
+wilderness, &quot;having marched through boughs and bushes and under hills and
+valleys which tore our very armor in pieces, yet could meet with no
+inhabitants nor find any fresh water which we greatly stood in need of,
+for we brought neither beer nor water with us, and our victual was only
+biscuit and Holland cheese, and a little bottle of aqua vitae. So we were
+sore athirst. About ten o'clock we came into a deep valley full of brush,
+sweet gaile and long grass, through which we found little paths or
+tracks; and we saw there a deer and found springs of water, of which we
+were heartily glad, and sat us down and drunk our first New England water
+with as much delight as we ever drunk drink in all our lives.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Three such expeditions through the country, with all sorts of haps and
+mishaps and adventures, took up the time until near the 15th of December,
+when, having selected a spot for their colony, they weighed anchor to go
+to their future home.</p>
+
+<p>Plymouth Harbor, as they found it, is thus described:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;This harbor is a bay greater than Cape Cod, compassed with a goodly
+land, and in the bay two fine islands uninhabited, wherein are nothing
+but woods, oaks, pines, walnuts, beeches, sassafras, vines, and other
+trees which we know not. The bay is a most hopeful place, innumerable
+stores of fowl, and excellent good; and it cannot but be of fish in their
+season. Skate, cod, and turbot, and herring we have tasted of&mdash;abundance
+of mussels (clams) the best we ever saw; and crabs and lobsters in their
+time, infinite.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>On the main land they write:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The land is, for a spit's depth, excellent black mould and fat in some
+places. Two or three great oaks, pines, walnut, beech, ash, birch, hazel,
+holly, and sassafras in abundance, and vines everywhere, with cherry-trees,
+plum-trees, and others which we know not. Many kind of herbs we
+found here in winter, as strawberry leaves innumerable, sorrel, yarrow,
+carvel, brook-lime, liver-wort, water-cresses, with great store of leeks
+and onions, and an excellent strong kind of flax and hemp.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>It is evident from this description that the season was a mild one even
+thus late into December, that there was still sufficient foliage hanging
+upon the trees to determine the species, and that the pilgrims viewed
+their new mother-land through eyes of cheerful hope.</p>
+
+<p>And now let us look in the glass at them once more, on Saturday morning
+of the 23d of December.</p>
+
+<p>The little <i>Mayflower</i> lies swinging at her moorings in the harbor, while
+every man and boy who could use a tool has gone on shore to cut down and
+prepare timber for future houses.</p>
+
+<p>Mary Winslow and Rose Standish are sitting together on deck, fashioning
+garments, while little Love Winslow is playing at their feet with such
+toys as the new world afforded her&mdash;strings of acorns and scarlet holly-berries and some bird-claws and arrowheads and bright-colored ears of
+Indian corn, which Captain Miles Standish has brought home to her from
+one of their explorations.</p>
+
+<p>Through the still autumnal air may now and then be heard the voices of
+men calling to one another on shore, the quick, sharp ring of axes, and
+anon the crash of falling trees, with shouts from juveniles as the great
+forest monarch is laid low. Some of the women are busy below, sorting
+over and arranging their little household stores and stuff with a view to
+moving on shore, and holding domestic consultations with each other.</p>
+
+<p>A sadness hangs over the little company, for since their arrival the
+stroke of death has more than once fallen; we find in Bradford's brief
+record that by the 24th of December six had died.</p>
+
+<p>What came nearest to the hearts of all was the loss of Dorothea Bradford,
+who, when all the men of the party were absent on an exploring tour,
+accidentally fell over the side of the vessel and sunk in the deep
+waters. What this loss was to the husband and the little company of
+brothers and sisters appears by no note or word of wailing, merely by a
+simple entry which says no more than the record on a gravestone, that,
+&quot;on the 7th of December, Dorothy, wife of William Bradford, fell over and
+was drowned.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>That much-enduring company could afford themselves few tears. Earthly
+having and enjoying was a thing long since dismissed from their
+calculations. They were living on the primitive Christian platform; they
+&quot;rejoiced as though they rejoiced not,&quot; and they &quot;wept as though they
+wept not,&quot; and they &quot;had wives and children as though they had them not,&quot;
+or, as one of themselves expressed it, &quot;We are in all places strangers,
+pilgrims, travelers and sojourners; our dwelling is but a wandering, our
+abiding but as a fleeting, our home is nowhere but in the heavens, in
+that house not made with hands, whose builder and maker is God.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>When one of their number fell they were forced to do as soldiers in the
+stress of battle&mdash;close up the ranks and press on.</p>
+
+<p>But Mary Winslow, as she sat over her sewing, dropped now and then a tear
+down on her work for the loss of her sister and counselor and long-tried
+friend. From the lower part of the ship floated up, at intervals,
+snatches of an old English ditty that Margery was singing while she moved
+to and fro about her work, one of those genuine English melodies, full of
+a rich, strange mournfulness blent with a soothing pathos:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Fear no more the heat o' the sun<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;Nor the furious winter rages,<br />
+Thou thy worldly task hast done,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;Home art gone and ta'en thy wages.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The air was familiar, and Mary Winslow, dropping her work in her lap,
+involuntarily joined in it:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Fear no more the frown of the great,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;Thou art past the tyrant's stroke;<br />
+Care no more to clothe and eat,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;To thee the reed is as the oak.&quot;<br /></p>
+
+<p>&quot;There goes a great tree on shore!&quot; quoth little Love Winslow, clapping
+her hands. &quot;Dost hear, mother? I've been counting the strokes&mdash;fifteen&mdash;
+and then crackle! crackle! crackle! and down it comes!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Peace, darling,&quot; said Mary Winslow; &quot;hear what old Margery is singing
+below:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Fear no more the lightning's flash,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;Nor the all-dreaded thunder stone;<br />
+Fear not slander, censure rash&mdash;<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;Thou hast finished joy and moan.<br />
+All lovers young&mdash;all lovers must<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;Consign to thee, and come to dust.&quot;<br /></p>
+
+<p>&quot;Why do you cry, mother?&quot; said the little one, climbing on her lap and
+wiping her tears.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I was thinking of dear Auntie, who is gone from us.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;She is not gone from us, mother.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;My darling, she is with Jesus.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, mother, Jesus is ever with us&mdash;you tell me that&mdash;and if she is
+with him she is with us too&mdash;I know she is&mdash;for sometimes I see her. She
+sat by me last night and stroked my head when that ugly, stormy wind
+waked me&mdash;she looked so sweet, oh, ever so beautiful!&mdash;and she made me go
+to sleep so quiet&mdash;it is sweet to be as she is, mother&mdash;not away from us
+but with Jesus.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;These little ones see further in the kingdom than we,&quot; said Rose
+Standish. &quot;If we would be like them, we should take things easier. When
+the Lord would show who was greatest in his kingdom, he took a little
+child on his lap.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Ah me, Rose!&quot; said Mary Winslow, &quot;I am aweary in spirit with this
+tossing sea-life. I long to have a home on dry land once more, be it ever
+so poor. The sea wearies me. Only think, it is almost Christmas time,
+only two days now to Christmas. How shall we keep it in these woods?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Aye, aye,&quot; said old Margery, coming up at the moment, &quot;a brave muster
+and to do is there now in old England; and men and boys going forth
+singing and bearing home branches of holly, and pine, and mistletoe for
+Christmas greens. Oh! I remember I used to go forth with them and help
+dress the churches. God help the poor children, they will grow up in the
+wilderness and never see such brave sights as I have. They will never
+know what a church is, such as they are in old England, with fine old
+windows like the clouds, and rainbows, and great wonderful arches like
+the very skies above us, and the brave music with the old organs rolling
+and the boys marching in white garments and singing so as should draw the
+very heart out of one. All this we have left behind in old England&mdash;ah!
+well a day! well a day!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, but, Margery,&quot; said Mary Winslow, &quot;we have a 'better country' than
+old England, where the saints and angels are keeping Christmas; we
+confess that we are strangers and pilgrims on earth.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And Rose Standish immediately added the familiar quotation from the
+Geneva Bible:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;For they that say such things declare plainly that they seek a country.
+For if they had been mindful of that country from whence they came out
+they had leisure to have returned. But now they desire a better&mdash;that is,
+an heavenly; wherefore God is not ashamed of them to be called their
+God.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The fair young face glowed as she repeated the heroic words, for already,
+though she knew it not, Rose Standish was feeling the approaching sphere
+of the angel life. Strong in spirit, as delicate in frame, she had given
+herself and drawn her martial husband to the support of a great and noble
+cause; but while the spirit was ready, the flesh was weak, and even at
+that moment her name was written in the Lamb's Book to enter the higher
+life, in one short month's time from that Christmas.</p>
+
+<p>Only one month of sweetness and perfume was that sweet rose to shed over
+the hard and troubled life of the pilgrims, for the saints and angels
+loved her, and were from day to day gently untying mortal bands to draw
+her to themselves. Yet was there nothing about her of mournfulness; on
+the contrary, she was ever alert and bright, with a ready tongue to cheer
+and a helpful hand to do; and, seeing the sadness that seemed stealing
+over Mary Winslow, she struck another key, and, catching little Love up
+in her arms, said cheerily,</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Come hither, pretty one, and Rose will sing thee a brave carol for
+Christmas. We won't be<br />
+ down-hearted, will we? Hark now to what the
+minstrels used to sing under my window when I was a little girl:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I saw three ships come sailing in<br />
+On Christmas day, on Christmas day,<br />
+I saw three ships come sailing in<br />
+On Christmas day in the morning.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And what was in those ships all three<br />
+On Christmas day, on Christmas day,<br />
+And what was in those ships all three<br />
+On Christmas day in the morning?</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Our Saviour Christ and his laydie,<br />
+On Christmas day, on Christmas day,<br />
+Our Saviour Christ and his laydie<br />
+On Christmas day in the morning.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Pray, whither sailed those ships all three,<br />
+On Christmas day, on Christmas day?<br />
+Oh, they sailed into Bethlehem,<br />
+On Christmas day in the morning.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And all the bells on earth shall ring<br />
+On Christmas day, on Christmas day;<br />
+And all the angels in heaven shall sing<br />
+On Christmas day in the morning.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Then let us all rejoice amain,<br />
+On Christmas day, on Christmas day;<br />
+Then let us all rejoice amain<br />
+On Christmas day in the morning.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Now, isn't that a brave ballad?&quot; said Rose. &quot;Yea, and thou singest like
+a real English robin,&quot; said Margery, &quot;to do the heart good to hear thee.&quot;</p>
+
+
+<br /><hr style="width: 45%;" /><br />
+<h2 align="center">CHAPTER IV.</h2>
+
+ <p><strong>ELDER BREWSTER'S CHRISTMAS SERMON.</strong></p>
+
+<p>Sunday morning found the little company gathered once more on the ship,
+with nothing to do but rest and remember their homes, temporal and
+spiritual&mdash;homes backward, in old England, and forward, in Heaven. They
+were, every man and woman of them, English to the back-bone. From Captain
+Jones who commanded the ship to Elder Brewster who ruled and guided in
+spiritual affairs, all alike were of that stock and breeding which made
+the Englishman of the days of Bacon and Shakespeare, and in those days
+Christmas was knit into the heart of every one of them by a thousand
+threads, which no after years could untie.</p>
+
+<p>Christmas carols had been sung to them by nurses and mothers and
+grandmothers; the Christmas holly spoke to them from every berry and
+prickly leaf, full of dearest household memories. Some of them had been
+men of substance among the English gentry, and in their prosperous days
+had held high festival in ancestral halls in the season of good cheer.
+Elder Brewster himself had been a rising young diplomat in the court of
+Elizabeth, in the days when the Lord Keeper of the Seals led the revels
+of Christmas as Lord of Misrule.</p>
+
+<p>So that, though this Sunday morning arose gray and lowering, with snowflakes
+hovering through the air, there was Christmas in the thoughts of
+every man and woman among them&mdash;albeit it was the Christmas of wanderers
+and exiles in a wilderness looking back to bright home-fires across
+stormy waters.</p>
+
+<p>The men had come back from their work on shore with branches of green
+pine and holly, and the women had, stuck them about the ship, not without
+tearful thoughts of old home-places, where their childhood fathers and
+mothers did the same.</p>
+
+<p>Bits and snatches of Christmas carols were floating all around the ship,
+like land-birds blown far out to sea. In the forecastle Master Coppin was
+singing:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Come, bring with a noise,<br />
+My merry boys,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;The Christmas log to the firing;<br />
+While my good dame, she<br />
+Bids ye all be free,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;And drink to your hearts' desiring.<br />
+Drink now the strong beer,<br />
+Cut the white loaf here.<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;The while the meat is shredding<br />
+For the rare minced pie,<br />
+And the plums stand by<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;To fill the paste that's a-kneading.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Ah, well-a-day, Master Jones, it is dull cheer to sing Christmas songs
+here in the woods, with only the owls and the bears for choristers. I
+wish I could hear the bells of merry England once more.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And down in the cabin Rose Standish was hushing little Peregrine, the
+first American-born baby, with a Christmas lullaby:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;This winter's night<br />
+I saw a sight&mdash;<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;A star as bright as day;<br />
+And ever among<br />
+A maiden sung,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;Lullay, by-by, lullay!</p>
+
+<p>&quot;This lovely laydie sat and sung,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;And to her child she said,<br />
+My son, my brother, and my father dear,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;Why lyest thou thus in hayd?<br />
+My sweet bird,<br />
+Tho' it betide<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;Thou be not king veray;<br />
+But nevertheless<br />
+I will not cease<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;To sing, by-by, lullay!</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The child then spake in his talking,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;And to his mother he said,<br />
+It happeneth, mother, I am a king,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;In crib though I be laid,<br />
+For angels bright<br />
+Did down alight,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;Thou knowest it is no nay;<br />
+And of that sight<br />
+Thou may'st be light<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;To sing, by-by, lullay!</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Now, sweet son, since thou art a king,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;Why art thou laid in stall?<br />
+Why not ordain thy bedding<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;In some great king his hall?<br />
+We thinketh 'tis right<br />
+That king or knight<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;Should be in good array;<br />
+And them among,<br />
+It were no wrong<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;To sing, by-by, lullay!</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Mary, mother, I am thy child,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;Tho' I be laid in stall;<br />
+Lords and dukes shall worship me,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;And so shall kinges all.<br />
+And ye shall see<br />
+That kinges three<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;Shall come on the twelfth day;<br />
+For this behest<br />
+Give me thy breast,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;And sing, by-by, lullay!&quot;<br /></p>
+
+<p>&quot;See here,&quot; quoth Miles Standish, &quot;when my Rose singeth, the children
+gather round her like bees round a flower. Come, let us all strike up a
+goodly carol together. Sing one, sing all, girls and boys, and get a bit
+of Old England's Christmas before to-morrow, when we must to our work on
+shore.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Thereat Rose struck up a familiar ballad-meter of a catching rhythm, and
+every voice of young and old was soon joining in it:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Behold a silly,<a name="FNanchor1"></a><a href="#Footnote_1"><sup>[1]</sup></a> tender Babe,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;In freezing winter night,<br />
+In homely manger trembling lies;<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;Alas! a piteous sight,<br />
+The inns are full, no man will yield<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;This little Pilgrim bed;<br />
+But forced He is, with silly beasts<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;In crib to shroud His head.<br />
+Despise Him not for lying there,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;First what He is inquire:<br />
+An orient pearl is often found<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;In depth of dirty mire.<br /></p>
+
+<p>&quot;Weigh not His crib, His wooden dish,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;Nor beasts that by Him feed;<br />
+Weigh not His mother's poor attire,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;Nor Joseph's simple weed.<br />
+This stable is a Prince's court,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;The crib His chair of state,<br />
+The beasts are parcel of His pomp,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;The wooden dish His plate.<br />
+The persons in that poor attire<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;His royal liveries wear;<br />
+The Prince Himself is come from Heaven,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;This pomp is prized there.<br />
+With joy approach, O Christian wight,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;Do homage to thy King;<br />
+And highly praise His humble pomp,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;Which He from Heaven doth bring.&quot;<br />
+</p>
+<blockquote>
+<p><a name="Footnote_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor1">[1]</a> Old English&mdash;simple.</p></blockquote>
+
+<p>The cheerful sounds spread themselves through the ship like the flavor of
+some rare perfume, bringing softness of heart through a thousand tender
+memories.</p>
+
+<p>Anon, the hour of Sabbath morning worship drew on, and Elder Brewster
+read from the New Testament the whole story of the Nativity, and then
+gave a sort of Christmas homily from the words of St. Paul, in the eighth
+chapter of Romans, the sixth and seventh verses, which the Geneva version
+thus renders:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;For the wisdom of the flesh is death, but the wisdom of the spirit is
+life and peace.<br /></p>
+<p>&quot;For the wisdom of the flesh is enmity against God, for it is not subject
+to the law of God, neither indeed can be.&quot;<br /></p>
+<p>&quot;Ye know full well, dear brethren, what the wisdom of the flesh sayeth.
+The wisdom of the flesh sayeth to each one, 'Take care of thyself; look
+after thyself, to get and to have and to hold and to enjoy.' The wisdom
+of the flesh sayeth, 'So thou art warm, full, and in good liking, take
+thine ease, eat, drink, and be merry, and care not how many go empty and
+be lacking.' But ye have seen in the Gospel this morning that this was
+not the wisdom of our Lord Jesus Christ, who, though he was Lord of all,
+became poorer than any, that we, through His poverty, might become rich.
+When our Lord Jesus Christ came, the wisdom of the flesh despised Him;
+the wisdom of the flesh had no room for Him at the inn.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;There was room enough always for Herod and his concubines, for the
+wisdom of the flesh set great store by them; but a poor man and woman
+were thrust out to a stable; and <i>there</i> was a poor baby born whom the
+wisdom of the flesh knew not, because the wisdom of the flesh is enmity
+against God.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The wisdom of the flesh, brethren, ever despiseth the wisdom of God,
+because it knoweth it not. The wisdom of the flesh looketh at the thing
+that is great and strong and high; it looketh at riches, at kings'
+courts, at fine clothes and fine jewels and fine feastings, and it
+despiseth the little and the poor and the weak.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But the wisdom of the Spirit goeth to worship the poor babe in the
+manger, and layeth gold and myrrh and frankincense at his feet while he
+lieth in weakness and poverty, as did the wise men who were taught of
+God.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Now, forasmuch as our Saviour Christ left His riches and throne in glory
+and came in weakness and poverty to this world, that he might work out a
+mighty salvation that shall be to all people, how can we better keep
+Christmas than to follow in his steps? We be a little company who have
+forsaken houses and lands and possessions, and come here unto the
+wilderness that we may prepare a resting-place whereto others shall come
+to reap what we shall sow. And to-morrow we shall keep our first
+Christmas, not in flesh-pleasing, and in reveling and in fullness of
+bread, but in small beginning and great weakness, as our Lord Christ kept
+it when He was born in a stable and lay in a manger.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;To-morrow, God willing, we will all go forth to do good, honest
+Christian work, and begin the first house-building in this our New
+England&mdash;it may be roughly fashioned, but as good a house, I'll warrant
+me, as our Lord Christ had on the Christmas Day we wot of. And let us not
+faint in heart because the wisdom of the world despiseth what we do.
+Though Sanballat the Horonite, and Tobias the Ammonite, and Geshem the
+Arabian make scorn of us, and say, 'What do these weak Jews? If a fox go
+up, he shall break down their stone wall;' yet the Lord our God is with
+us, and He can cause our work to prosper.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The wisdom of the Spirit seeth the grain of mustard-seed, that is the
+least of all seeds, how it shall become a great tree, and the fowls of
+heaven shall lodge in its branches. Let us, then, lift up the hands that
+hang down and the feeble knees, and let us hope that, like as great
+salvation to all people came out of small beginnings of Bethlehem, so the
+work which we shall begin to-morrow shall be for the good of many
+nations.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It is a custom on this Christmas Day to give love-presents. What love-gift
+giveth our Lord Jesus on this day? Brethren, it is a great one and a
+precious; as St. Paul said to the Philippians: 'For unto you it is given
+for Christ, not only that ye should believe on Him, but also that ye
+should suffer for His sake;' and St. Peter also saith, 'Behold, we count
+them blessed which endure.' And the holy Apostles rejoiced that they were
+counted worthy to suffer rebuke for the name of Jesus.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Our Lord Christ giveth us of His cup and His baptism; He giveth of the
+manger and the straw; He giveth of persecutions and afflictions; He
+giveth of the crown of thorns, and right dear unto us be these gifts.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And now will I tell these children a story, which a cunning playwright,
+whom I once knew in our Queen's court, hath made concerning gifts:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;A great king would marry his daughter worthily, and so he caused three
+caskets to be made, in one of which he hid her picture. The one casket
+was of gold set with diamonds, the second of silver set with pearls, and
+the third a poor casket of lead.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Now it was given out that each comer should have but one choice, and if
+he chose the one with the picture he should have the lady to wife.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Divers kings, knights, and gentlemen came from far, but they never won,
+because they always snatched at the gold and the silver caskets, with the
+pearls and diamonds. So, when they opened these, they found only a
+grinning death's-head or a fool's cap.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But anon cometh a true, brave knight and gentleman, who chooseth for
+love alone the old leaden casket; and, behold, within is the picture of
+her he loveth! and they were married with great feasting and content.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;So our Lord Jesus doth not offer himself to us in silver and gold and
+jewels, but in poverty and hardness and want; but whoso chooseth them for
+His love's sake shall find Him therein whom his soul loveth, and shall
+enter with joy to the marriage supper of the Lamb.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And when the Lord shall come again in his glory, then he shall bring
+worthy gifts with him, for he saith: 'Be thou faithful unto death, and I
+will give thee a crown of life; to him that overcometh I will give to eat
+of the hidden manna, and I will give him a white stone with a new name
+that no man knoweth save he that receiveth it. He that overcometh and
+keepeth my words, I will give power over the nations and I will give him
+the morning star.'</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Let us then take joyfully Christ's Christmas gifts of labors and
+adversities and crosses to-day, that when he shall appear we may have
+these great and wonderful gifts at his coming; for if we suffer with him
+we shall also reign; but if we deny him, he also will deny us.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And so it happens that the only record of Christmas Day in the pilgrims'
+journal is this:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Monday, the 25th, being Christmas Day, we went ashore, some to fell
+timber, some to saw, some to rive, and some to carry; and so no man
+rested all that day. But towards night some, as they were at work, heard
+a noise of Indians, which caused us all to go to our muskets; but we
+heard no further, so we came aboard again, leaving some to keep guard.
+That night we had a sore storm of wind and rain. But at night the shipmaster
+caused us to have some beer aboard.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>So worthily kept they the first Christmas, from which comes all the
+Christmas cheer of New England <br />
+to-day. There is no record how Mary
+Winslow and Rose Standish and others, with women and children, came
+ashore and walked about encouraging the builders; and how little Love
+gathered stores of bright checker-berries and partridge plums, and was
+made merry in seeing squirrels and wild rabbits; nor how old Margery
+roasted certain wild geese to a turn at a woodland fire, and conserved
+wild cranberries with honey for sauce. In their journals the good
+pilgrims say they found bushels of strawberries in the meadows in
+December. But we, knowing the nature of things, know that these must have
+been cranberries, which grow still abundantly around Plymouth harbor.</p>
+
+<p>And at the very time that all this was doing in the wilderness, and the
+men were working yeomanly to build a new nation, in King James's court
+the ambassadors of the French King were being entertained with maskings
+and mummerings, wherein the staple subject of merriment was the Puritans!</p>
+
+<p>So goes the wisdom of the world and its ways&mdash;and so goes the wisdom of
+God!</p>
+</td>
+ </tr>
+</table>
+<hr />
+<pre>
+
+<div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 10723 ***</div>
+</body>
+</html>
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+<title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of Betty's Bright Idea; Deacon Pitkin's Farm; and The First Christmas of New England, by Harriet Beecher Stowe</title>
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+<h1>The Project Gutenberg eBook, Betty's Bright Idea; Deacon Pitkin's Farm;
+and The First Christmas of New England, by Harriet Beecher Stowe</h1>
+<pre>
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at <a href = "https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>
+
+Title: Betty's Bright Idea; Deacon Pitkin's Farm; and The First Christmas of New England
+
+Author: Harriet Beecher Stowe
+
+Release Date: January 15, 2004 [eBook #10723]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: iso-8859-1
+
+***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BETTY'S BRIGHT IDEA; DEACON PITKIN'S FARM; AND THE FIRST CHRISTMAS OF NEW ENGLAND***
+
+
+</pre>
+<center><h3>E-text prepared by Suzanne Shell, Richard Prairie, Sjaani,<br />
+ and Project Gutenberg Distributed Proofreaders</h3></center>
+
+<hr />
+<br />
+<table width="80%" border="0" align="center">
+ <tr>
+ <td>
+ <div align="center"><img src="images/cover.jpg" alt="Betty's Bright Idea" align="left" />
+ </div>
+ </td>
+ <td>
+ <h2 align="center">also<br /><br />
+ <a href="#deacon">DEACON PITKIN'S FARM</a><br /><br />
+ and<br /><br />
+ <a href="#xmas">THE FIRST CHRISTMAS OF NEW ENGLAND</a><br /><br />
+ BY HARRIET BEECHER STOWE.<br /><br />
+ With Illustrations.<br /><br />
+ 1875.</h2>
+</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">
+ <div align="center"><br />
+ <img src="images/frontis.jpg" alt="The Children in the Churchyard" /><br />
+ <br />
+ </div>
+ <hr style="width: 45%;" /><br />
+<h1 align="center">BETTY'S BRIGHT IDEA.</h1>
+
+
+<br /><hr style="width: 45%;" /><br />
+&quot;When He ascended up on high, He led captivity captive, and gave gifts
+unto men.&quot;&mdash;Eph. iv. 8.
+
+<p>Some say that ever, 'gainst that season comes<br />
+Wherein our Saviour's birth is celebrate,<br />
+The bird of dawning singeth all night long.<br />
+And then, they say, no evil spirit walks;<br />
+The nights are wholesome; then no planets strike,<br />
+No fairy takes, no witch hath power to charm,&mdash;<br />
+So hallowed and so gracious is the time.</p>
+
+<p>And this holy time, so hallowed and so gracious, was settling down over
+the great roaring, rattling, seething life-world of New York in the good
+year 1875. Who does not feel its on-coming in the shops and streets, in
+the festive air of trade and business, in the thousand garnitures by
+which every store hangs out triumphal banners and solicits you to buy
+something for a Christmas gift? For it is the peculiarity of all this
+array of prints, confectionery, dry goods, and manufactures of all kinds,
+that their bravery and splendor at Christmas tide is all to seduce you
+into generosity, and importune you to give something to others. It says
+to you, &quot;The dear God gave you an unspeakable gift; give you a lesser
+gift to your brother!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Do we ever think, when we walk those busy, bustling streets, all alive
+with Christmas shoppers, and mingle with the rushing tides that throng
+and jostle through the stores, that unseen spirits may be hastening to
+and fro along those same ways bearing Christ's Christmas gifts to men&mdash;gifts
+whose value no earthly gold or gems can represent?</p>
+
+<p>Yet, on this morning of the day before Christmas, were these Shining
+Ones, moving to and fro with the crowd, whose faces were loving and
+serene as the invisible stars, whose robes took no defilement from the
+spatter and the rush of earth, whose coming and going was still as the
+falling snow-flakes. They entered houses without ringing door-bells, they
+passed through apartments without opening doors, and everywhere they were
+bearing Christ's Christmas presents, and silently offering them to
+whoever would open their souls to receive. Like themselves, their gifts
+were invisible&mdash;incapable of weight and measurement in gross earthly
+scales. To mourners they carried joy; to weary and perplexed hearts,
+peace; to souls stifling in luxury and self-indulgence they carried that
+noble discontent that rises to aspiration for higher things. Sometimes
+they took away an earthly treasure to make room for a heavenly one. They
+took health, but left resignation and cheerful faith. They took the babe
+from the dear cradle, but left in its place a heart full of pity for the
+suffering on earth and a fellowship with the blessed in heaven. Let us
+follow their footsteps awhile.</p>
+
+
+<br /><hr style="width: 45%;" /><br />
+<h2 align="center">SCENE I.</h2>
+
+<p>A young girl's boudoir in one of our American palaces of luxury, built
+after the choicest fancy of the architect, and furnished in all the
+latest devices of household decoration. Pictures, statuettes, and every
+form of <i>bijouterie</i> make the room a miracle of beauty, and the little
+princess of all sits in an easy chair before the fire, and thus revolves
+with herself:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;O, dear me! Christmas is a bore! Such a rush and crush in the streets,
+such a jam in the shops, and then <i>such</i> a fuss thinking up presents for
+everybody! All for nothing, too; for nobody Wants anything. I'm sure <i>I</i>
+don't. I'm surfeited now with pictures and jewelry, and bon-bon boxes,
+and little china dogs and cats&mdash;and all these things that get so thick
+you can't move without upsetting some of them. There's papa, he don't
+want anything. He never uses any of my Christmas presents when I get
+them; and mamma, she has every earthly thing I can think of, and said the
+other day she did hope nobody'd give her any more worsted work! Then Aunt
+Maria and Uncle John, they don't want the things I give them; they have
+more than they know what to do with, now. All the boys say they don't
+want any more cigar cases or slippers, or smoking caps. Oh, dear!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Here the Shining Ones came and stood over the little lady, and looked
+down on her with faces of pity, which seemed blent with a serene and
+half-amused indulgence. It was a heavenly amusement, such as that with
+which mothers listen to the foolish-wise prattle of children just
+learning to talk.</p>
+
+<p>As the grave, sweet eyes rested tenderly on her, the girl somehow grew
+graver, leaned back in her chair, and sighed a little.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I wish I knew how to be better!&quot; she said to herself. &quot;I remember last
+Sunday's text, 'It is more blessed to give than to receive.' That must
+mean something! Well, isn't there something, too, in the Bible about not
+giving to your rich neighbors that can give again, but giving to the poor
+that cannot recompense you? I don't know any poor people. Papa says there
+are very few deserving poor people. Well, for the matter of that, there
+aren't many <i>deserving rich</i> people. I, for example, how much do I
+<i>deserve</i> to have all these nice things? I'm no better than the poor
+shop-girls that go trudging by in the cold at six o'clock in the morning&mdash;ugh!
+it makes me shiver to think of it. I know if I had to do that <i>I</i>
+shouldn't be good at all. Well, I'd like to give to poor people, if I
+knew any.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>At this moment the door opened and the maid entered.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Betty, do you know any poor people I ought to get things for, this
+Christmas?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Poor folks is always plenty, miss,&quot; said Betty.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;O yes, of course, beggars; but I mean people that I could do something
+for besides just give cold victuals or money. I don't know where to hunt
+them up, and should be afraid to go if I did. O dear! it's no use. I'll
+give it up.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Why, Miss Florence, that 'ud be too bad, afther bein' that good in yer
+heart, to let the poor folks alone for fear of goin' to them. But ye
+needn't do that, for, now I think of it, there's John Morley's wife.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What, the gardener father turned off for drinking?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The same, miss. Poor boy, he's not so bad, and he's got a wife and two
+as pretty children as ever you see.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I always liked John,&quot; said the young lady. &quot;But papa is so strict about
+some things! He says he never will keep a man a day if he finds out that
+he drinks.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>She was quite silent for a minute, and then broke out:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I don't care; it's a good idea! I say, Betty, do you know where John's
+wife lives?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes, miss, I've been there often.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, then, this afternoon I'll go with you and see if I can do anything
+for them.&quot;</p>
+
+ <p><img src="images/holly_dec.gif" alt="Decoration" /></p>
+
+
+<br /><hr style="width: 45%;" /><br />
+<h2 align="center">SCENE II.</h2>
+
+
+<p>An attic room, neat and clean, but poorly furnished; a bed and a trundle-bed,
+a small cooking-stove, a shelf with a few dishes, one or two chairs
+and stools, a pale, thin woman working on a vest.</p>
+
+<p>Her face is anxious; her thin hands tremble with weakness, and now and
+then, as she works, quiet tears drop, which she wipes quickly. Poor
+people cannot afford to shed tears; it takes time and injures eyesight.</p>
+
+<p>This is John Morley's wife. This morning he has risen and gone out in a
+desperate mood. &quot;No use to try,&quot; he says. &quot;Didn't I go a whole year and
+never touch a drop? And now just because I fell once I'm kicked out! No
+use to try. When a fellow once trips, everybody gives him a kick. Talk
+about love of Christ! Who believes it? Don't see much love of Christ
+where I go. Your Christians hit a fellow that's down as hard as anybody.
+It's everybody for himself and devil take the hindmost. Well, I'll trudge
+up to the Brooklyn Navy Yard and see if they'll take me on there&mdash;if they
+won't I might as well go to sea, or to the devil,&quot; and out he flings.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Mamma!&quot; says a little voice, &quot;what are we going to have for our
+Christmas?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>It is a little girl, with soft curly hair and bright, earnest eyes, that
+speaks.</p>
+
+<p>A sturdy little fellow of four presses up to the mother's knee and
+repeats the question, &quot;Sha'n't we have a Christmas, mother?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>It overcomes the poor woman; she leans forward and breaks into sobbing,&mdash;a
+tempest of sorrow, long suppressed, that shakes her weak frame as she
+thinks that her husband is out of work, desperate, discouraged, and
+tempted of the devil, that the rent is falling due, and only the poor pay
+of her needle to meet it with. In one of those quick flashes which
+concentrate through the imagination the sorrows of years, she seems to
+see her little home broken up, her husband in the gutter, her children
+turned into the street. At this moment there goes up from her heart a
+despairing cry, such as a poor, hunted, tired-out creature gives when
+brought to the last gasp of endurance. It was like the shriek of the hare
+when the hounds are upon it. She clasps her hands and cries out, &quot;O my
+God, help me.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>There was no voice of any that answered; there was no sound of foot-fall
+on the staircase; no one entered the door; and yet that agonized cry had
+reached the heart it was meant for. The Shining Ones were with her; they
+stood, with faces full of tenderness, beaming down upon her; they brought
+her a Christmas gift from Christ&mdash;the gift of trust. She knew not from
+whence came the courage and rest that entered her soul; but while her
+little ones stood wondering and silent, she turned and drew to herself
+her well-worn Bible. Hands that she did not see guided her as she turned
+the pages, and pointed the words: <i>He shall deliver the needy when he
+crieth; the poor also and him that hath no helper. He shall spare the
+poor and needy, and shall save the souls of the needy. He shall redeem
+their soul from deceit and violence, and precious shall their blood be in
+his sight.</i></p>
+
+<p>She laid down her poor wan cheek on the merciful old book, as on her
+mother's breast, and gave up all the tangled skein of life into the hands
+of Infinite Pity. There seemed a consoling presence in the room, and her
+tired heart found rest.</p>
+
+<p>She wiped away her tears, kissed her children, and smiled upon them. Then
+she rose, gathered up her finished work, and attired herself to go forth
+and carry it back to the shop.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Mother,&quot; said the children softly, &quot;they are dressing the church, and
+the gates are open, and people are going in and out; mayn't we play there
+by the church?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The mother looked out on the ivy-grown walls of the church, with its
+flocks of twittering sparrows, and said:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes, my little birds; you may play there if you'll be very good and
+quiet.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The mother had only her small, close attic room for her darlings, and to
+satisfy all their childish desire for variety and motion, she had only
+the refuge of the streets. She was a decent, godly woman, and the bold
+manners and evil words of street vagrants were terrible to her; and so,
+when the church gates were open for daily morning and evening prayers,
+she had often begged the sexton to let her little ones come in and hear
+the singing, and wander hand in hand around the old church walls. He was
+a kindly old man, and the children, stealing round like two still,
+bright-eyed little mice, had gained upon his heart, and he made them
+welcome there. It gave the mother a feeling of protection to have them
+play near the church, as if it were a father's house.</p>
+
+<p>So she put on their little hoods and tippets, and led them forth, and saw
+them into the yard; and as she looked to the old gray church, with its
+rustling ivy bowers and flocks of birds, her heart swelled within her.
+&quot;Yea, the sparrow hath found a house and the swallow a nest where she may
+lay her young, even thine altars, O Lord of hosts, my king and my God!&quot;
+And the Shining Ones walking with her said, &quot;Fear not; ye are of more
+value than many sparrows.&quot;</p>
+
+<p><img src="images/holly_dec.gif" alt="Decoration" /></p>
+<br /><hr style="width: 45%;" /><br />
+<h2 align="center">SCENE III.</h2>
+
+
+<p>The little ones went gayly into the yard. They had been scared by their
+mother's tears; but she had smiled again, and that had made all right
+with them. The sun was shining brightly, and they were on the sunny side
+of the old church, and they laughed and chirped and chittered to each
+other as merrily as the little birds in the ivy boughs.</p>
+
+<p>The old sexton came to the side door and threw out an armful of refuse
+greens, and then stopped a moment and nodded kindly at them.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;May we play with them, please, sir?&quot; said the little Elsie, looking up
+with great reverence.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, yes, to be sure; these are done with&mdash;they are no good now.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, Tottie!&quot; cried Elsie, rapturously, &quot;just think, he says we may play
+with all these. Why, here's ever and ever so much green, enough to play
+house. Let's play build a house for father and mother.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I'm going to build a big house for 'em when I grow up,&quot; said Tottie,
+&quot;and I mean to have glass bead windows in it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Tottie had once had presented to him a box of colored glass beads to
+string, and he could think of nothing finer in the future than unlimited
+glass beads.</p>
+
+<p>Meanwhile, his sister began planting pine branches upright in the snow,
+to make her house.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You see we can make believe there are windows and doors and a roof,&quot; she
+said, &quot;and it's just as good. Now, let's make believe there is a bed in
+this corner, and we will lie down to sleep.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And Tottie obediently couched himself in the allotted corner and shut his
+eyes very hard, though after a moment he remarked that the snow got into
+his neck.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You must play it isn't snow&mdash;play it's feathers,&quot; said Elsie.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But I don't like it,&quot; persisted Tottie, &quot;it don't feel a bit like
+feathers.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, well, then,&quot; said Elsie, accommodating herself to circumstances,
+&quot;let's play get up now and I'll get breakfast.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Just now the door opened again, and the sexton began sweeping the refuse
+out of the church. There were bits of ivy and holly, and ruffles of
+ground-pine, and lots of bright red berries that came flying forth into
+the yard, and the children screamed for joy. &quot;O Tottie!&quot; &quot;O Elsie!&quot; &quot;Only
+see how many pretty things&mdash;lots and lots!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The sexton stood and looked and laughed as he saw the little ones so
+eager for the scraps and remnants.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Don't you want to come in and see the church?&quot; he said. &quot;It's all done
+now, and a brave sight it is. You may come in.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>They tipped in softly, with large bright, wondering eyes. The light
+through the stained glass windows fell blue and crimson and yellow on the
+pillars all ruffled with ground-pine and brightened with scarlet<br />
+bitter-sweet
+berries, and there were stars and crosses and mottoes in green all
+through the bowery aisles, while the organist, hid in a thicket of
+verdure, was practicing softly, and sweet voices sung:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Hark! the herald angels sing<br />
+Glory to the new-born King.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The little ones wandered up and down the long aisles in a dream of awe
+and wonder. &quot;Hush, Tottie!&quot; said Elsie when he broke into an eager
+exclamation, &quot;don't make a noise. I do believe it's something like
+heaven,&quot; she said, under her breath.</p>
+
+<p>They made the course of the church and came round by the door again,
+where the sexton stood smiling on them.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You can find lots of pretty Christmas greens out there,&quot; he said,
+pointing to the door; &quot;perhaps your folks would like to have some.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, thank you, sir,&quot; exclaimed. Elsie, rapturously. &quot;Oh, Tottie, only
+think! Let's gather a good lot and go home and dress our room for
+Christmas. Oh, <i>won't</i> mother be astonished when she comes home, we'll
+make it so pretty!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And forthwith the children began gathering into their little aprons
+wreaths of ground-pine, sprigs of holly, and twigs of crimson bitter-sweet.
+The sexton, seeing their zeal, brought out to them a little cross,
+fancifully made of red alder-berries and pine.</p>
+
+<p>Then he said, &quot;A lady took that down to put up a bigger one, and she gave
+it to me; you may have it if you want it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, how beautiful,&quot; said Elsie. &quot;How glad I am to have this for mother!
+When she comes back she won't know our room; it will be as fine as the
+church.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Soon the little gleaners were toddling off out of the yard&mdash;moving masses
+of green with all that their aprons and their little hands could carry.</p>
+
+<p>The sexton looked after them. &quot;Take heed that ye despise not these little
+ones,&quot; he said to himself, &quot;for in heaven their angels&mdash;&quot;</p>
+
+<p>A ray of tenderness fell on the old man's head; it was from the Shining
+One who watched the children. He thought it was an afternoon sunbeam. His
+heart grew gentle and peaceful, and his thoughts went far back to a
+distant green grove where his own little one was sleeping. &quot;Seems to me
+I've loved all little ones ever since,&quot; he said, thinking far back to the
+Christmas week when his lamb was laid to rest. &quot;Well, she shall not
+return to me, but I shall go to her.&quot; The smile of the Shining One made a
+warm glow in his heart, which followed him all the way home.</p>
+
+<p>The children had a merry time dressing the room. They stuck good big
+bushes of pine in each window; they put a little ruffle of ground-pine
+round mother's Bible, and they fastened the beautiful red cross up over
+the table, and they stuck sprigs of pine or holly into every crack that
+could be made, by fair means or foul, to accept it, and they were
+immensely satisfied and delighted. Tottie insisted on hanging up his
+string of many-colored beads in the window to imitate the effect of the
+stained glass of the great church window.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It looks pretty when the light comes through,&quot; he remarked; and Elsie
+admitted that they might play they were painted windows, with some show
+of propriety. When everything had been stuck somewhere, Elsie swept the
+floor, and made up a fire, and put on the tea-kettle, to have everything
+ready to strike mother favorably on her return.</p>
+
+<p><img src="images/holly_dec.gif" alt="Decoration" /></p>
+<br /><hr style="width: 45%;" /><br />
+<h2 align="center">SCENE IV.</h2>
+
+
+<p>A freezing, bright, cold afternoon. &quot;Cold as Christmas!&quot; say cheery
+voices, as the crowds rush to and fro into shops and stores, and come out
+with hands full of presents.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes, cold as Christmas,&quot; says John Morley. &quot;I should think so! Cold
+enough for a fellow that can't get in anywhere&mdash;that nobody wants and
+nobody helps! I should think so.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>John had been trudging all day from point to point, only to hear the old
+story: times were hard, work was dull, nobody wanted him, and he felt
+morose and surly&mdash;out of humor with himself and with everybody else.</p>
+
+<p>It is true that his misfortunes were from his own fault; but that
+consideration never makes a man a particle more patient or good-natured&mdash;indeed,
+it is an additional bitterness in his cup. John was an
+Englishman. When he first landed in New York from the old country, he had
+been wild and dissipated and given to drinking. But by his wife's earnest
+entreaties he had been persuaded to sign the temperance pledge, and had
+gone on prosperously keeping it for a year. He had a good place and good
+wages, and all went well with him till in an evil hour he met some of his
+former boon-companions, and was induced to have a social evening with
+them.</p>
+
+<p>In the first half hour of that evening were lost the fruits of the whole
+year's self-denial and self-control. He was not only drunk that night,
+but he went off for a fortnight, and was drunk night after night, and
+came back to find that his master had discharged him in indignation. John
+thinks this over bitterly, as he thuds about in the cold and calls
+himself a fool.</p>
+
+<p>Yet, if the truth must be confessed, John had not much &quot;sense of sin,&quot; so
+called. He looked on himself as an unfortunate and rather ill-used man,
+for had he not tried very hard to be good, and gone a great while against
+the stream of evil inclination? and now, just for one yielding, he was
+pitched out of place, and everybody was turned against him! He thought
+this was hard measure. Didn't everybody hit wrong sometimes? Didn't rich
+fellows have their wine, and drink a little too much now and then? Yet
+nobody was down on <i>them</i>.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It's only because I'm poor,&quot; said John. &quot;Poor folks' sins are never
+pardoned. There's my good wife&mdash;poor girl!&quot; and John's heart felt as if
+it were breaking, for he was an affectionate creature, and loved his wife
+and babies, and in his deepest consciousness he knew that he was the one
+at fault. We have heard much about the sufferings of the wives and
+children of men who are overtaken with drink; but what is not so well
+understood is the sufferings of the men themselves in their sober
+moments, when they feel that they are becoming a curse to all that are
+dearest to them. John's very soul was wrung within him to think of the
+misery he had brought on his wife and children&mdash;the greater miseries that
+might be in store for them. He was faint of heart; he was tired; he had
+eaten nothing for hours, and on ahead he saw a drinking saloon. Why
+shouldn't he go and take one good drink, and then pitch off a ferry-boat
+into the East River, and so end the whole miserable muddle of life
+altogether?</p>
+
+<p>John's steps were turning that way, when one of the Shining Ones, who had
+watched him all day, came nearer and took his hand. He felt no touch; but
+at that moment there darted into his soul a thought of his mother, long
+dead, and he stopped irresolute, then turned to walk another way. The
+hand that was guiding him led him to turn a corner, and his curiosity was
+excited by a stream of people who seemed to be pressing into a building.
+A distant sound of singing was heard as he drew nearer, and soon he found
+himself passing with the multitude into a great prayer-meeting. The music
+grew more distinct as he went in. A man was singing in clear, penetrating
+tones:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What means this eager, anxious throng,<br />
+Which moves with busy haste along;<br />
+These wondrous gatherings day by day;<br />
+What means this strange commotion, say?<br />
+In accents hushed the throng reply,<br />
+'Jesus of Nazareth passeth by!'&quot;</p>
+
+<p>John had but a vague idea of religion, yet something in the singing
+affected him; and, weary and footsore and heartsore as he was, he sank
+into a seat and listened with absorbed attention:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Jesus! 'tis he who once below<br />
+Man's pathway trod in toil and woe;<br />
+And burdened ones where'er he came<br />
+Brought out their sick and deaf and lame.<br />
+The blind rejoiced to hear the cry,<br />
+'Jesus of Nazareth passeth by!'</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Ho, all ye heavy-laden, come!<br />
+Here's pardon, comfort, rest, and home.<br />
+Ye wanderers from a Father's face,<br />
+Return, accept his proffered grace.<br />
+Ye tempted ones, there's refuge nigh&mdash;<br />
+'Jesus of Nazareth passeth by!'&quot;</p>
+
+<p>A plain man, who spoke the language of plain working-men, now arose and
+read from his Bible the words which the angel of old spoke to the
+shepherds of Bethlehem:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;<i>Fear not, for behold, I bring you tidings of great joy, which shall be
+to all people, for unto you is born this day a Saviour, which is Christ
+the Lord.</i>&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The man went on to speak of this with an intense practical earnestness
+that soon made John feel as if <i>he</i>, individually, were being talked to;
+and the purport of the speech was this: that God had sent to him, John
+Morley, a Saviour to save him from his sins, to lift him above his
+weakness, to help him overcome his bad habits; that His name was called
+Jesus, because he shall save his people <i>from their sins</i>. John listened
+with a strange new thrill. This was what he needed&mdash;a Friend, all-powerful,
+all-pitiful, who would undertake for him and help him to
+overcome himself&mdash;for he sorely felt how weak he was. Here was a Friend
+that could have compassion on the ignorant and them that were out of the
+way. The thought brought tears to his eyes and a glow of hope to his
+heart. What if He <i>would</i> help him? for deep down in John's heart, worse
+than cold or hunger or weariness, was the dreadful conviction that he was
+a doomed man, that he should drink again as he had drunk, and never come
+to good, but fall lower and lower, and drag all who loved him down with
+him.</p>
+
+<p>And was this mighty Saviour given to him?</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes,&quot; cried the man who was speaking; &quot;to <i>you;</i> to you, who have lost
+name and place; to you, that nobody cares for; to you, who have been down
+in the gutter. God has sent you a Saviour to take you up out of the mud
+and mire, to wash you clean, to give you strength to overcome your sins,
+and lead you home to his blessed kingdom. This is the glad tidings of
+great joy that the angels brought on the first Christmas day. Christ was
+<i>God's Christmas gift</i> to a poor, lost world, and you may have him now,
+to-day. He may be your own Saviour&mdash;yours as much as if there were no
+other one on earth to be saved. He is looking for you to-day, coming
+after you, seeking you; he calls you by me. Oh, accept him now!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>There was a deep breathing of suppressed emotion as the speaker sat down,
+a pause of solemn stillness.</p>
+
+<p>A faint strain of music was heard, and the singer began singing a
+pathetic ballad of a lost sheep and of the Shepherd going forth to seek
+it:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;There were ninety and nine that safely lay<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;In the shelter of the fold,<br />
+But one was out on the hills away,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;Far off from the gates of gold&mdash;<br />
+Away on the mountains wild and bare,<br />
+Away from the tender Shepherd's care.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;'Lord, Thou hast here Thy ninety and nine;<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;Are they not enough for Thee?'<br />
+But the Shepherd made answer: ''Tis of mine<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;Has wandered away from me;<br />
+And although the road be rough and steep<br />
+I go to the desert to find my sheep.'&quot;</p>
+
+<p>John heard with an absorbed interest. All around him were eager
+listeners, breathless, leaning forward with intense attention. The song
+went on:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But none of the ransomed ever knew<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;How deep were the waters crossed;<br />
+Nor how dark was the night that the Lord went through<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;Ere He found His sheep that was lost.<br />
+Out in the desert He heard its cry&mdash;<br />
+Sick and helpless, and ready to die.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>There was a throbbing pathos in the intonation, and the verse floated
+over the weeping throng; when, after a pause, the strain was taken up
+triumphantly:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But all through the mountains thunder-riven,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;And up from the rocky steep,<br />
+There rose a cry to the gates of heaven,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;'Rejoice! I have found my sheep!'<br />
+And the angels echoed around the throne,<br />
+'Rejoice, for the Lord brings back His own!'&quot;</p>
+
+<p>All day long, poor John had felt so lonesome! Nobody cared for him;
+nobody wanted him; everything was against him; and, worst of all, he had
+no faith in himself. But here was this Friend, <i>seeking</i> him, following
+him through the cold alleys and crowded streets. In heaven they would be
+glad to hear that he had become a good man. The thought broke down all
+his pride, all his bitterness; he wept like a little child; and the
+Christmas gift of Christ&mdash;the sense of a real, present, loving, pitying
+Saviour&mdash;came into his very <i>soul</i>.</p>
+
+<p>He went homeward as one in a dream. He passed the drinking-saloon without
+a thought or wish of drinking. The expulsive force of a new emotion had
+for the time driven out all temptation. Raised above weakness, he thought
+only of this Jesus, this Saviour from sin, who he now believed had
+followed him and found him, and he longed to go home and tell his wife
+what great things the Lord had done for him.</p>
+
+<p><img src="images/holly_dec.gif" alt="Decoration" /></p>
+<br /><hr style="width: 45%;" /><br />
+<h2 align="center">SCENE V.</h2>
+
+
+<p>Meanwhile a little drama had been acting in John's humble home. His wife
+had been to the shop that day and come home with the pittance for her
+work in her hands.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I'll pay you full price to-day, but we can't pay such prices any
+longer,&quot; the man had said over the counter as he paid her. &quot;Hard times&mdash;work
+dull&mdash;we are cutting down all our work-folks; you'll have to take a
+third less next time.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I'll do my best,&quot; she said meekly, as she took her bundle of work and
+turned wearily away, but the invisible arm of the Shining One was round
+her, and the words again thrilled through her that she had read that
+morning: &quot;He shall redeem their soul from deceit and violence, and
+precious shall their blood be in his sight.&quot; She saw no earthly helper;
+she heard none and felt none, and yet her soul was sustained, and she
+came home in peace.</p>
+
+<p>When she opened the door of her little room she drew back astonished at
+the sight that presented itself. A brisk fire was roaring in the stove,
+and the tea-kettle was sputtering and sending out clouds of steam. A
+table with a white cloth on it was drawn out before the fire, and a new
+tea set of pure white cups and saucers, with teapot, sugar-bowl, and
+creamer, complete, gave a festive air to the whole. There were bread, and
+butter, and ham-sandwiches, and a Christmas cake all frosted, with little
+blue and red and green candles round it ready to be lighted, and a bunch
+of hot-house flowers in a pretty little vase in the centre.</p>
+
+<p>A new stuffed rocking-chair stood on one side of the stove, and there sat
+Miss Florence De Witt, our young princess of Scene First, holding little
+Elsie in her lap, while the broad, honest countenance of Betty was
+beaming with kindness down on the delighted face of Tottie. Both children
+were dressed from head to foot in complete new suits of clothes, and
+Elsie was holding with tender devotion a fine doll, while Tottie rejoiced
+in a horse and cart which he was maneuvering under Betty's
+superintendence.</p>
+
+<p>The little princess had pleased herself in getting up all this tableau.
+Doing good was a novelty to her, and she plunged into it with the zest of
+a new amusement. The amazed look of the poor woman, her dazed expressions
+of rapture and incredulous joy, the shrieks and cries of confused delight
+with which the little ones met their mother, delighted her more than any
+scene she had ever witnessed at the opera&mdash;with this added grace, unknown
+to her, that at this scene the invisible Shining Ones were pleased
+witnesses.</p>
+
+<p>She had been out with Betty, buying here and there whatever was wanted,&mdash;and
+what was <i>not</i> wanted for those who had been living so long without
+work or money?</p>
+
+<p>She had their little coal-bin filled, and a nice pile of wood and
+kindlings put behind the stove. She had bought a nice rocking-chair for
+the mother to rest in. She had dressed the children from head to foot at
+a ready-made clothing store, and bought them toys to their hearts'
+desire, while Betty had set the table for a Christmas feast.</p>
+
+<p>And now she said to the poor woman at last:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I'm so sorry John lost his place at father's. He was so kind and
+obliging, and I always liked him; and I've been thinking, if you'd get
+him to sign the pledge over again from Christmas Eve, never to touch
+another drop, I'll get papa to take him back. I always do get papa to do
+what I want, and the fact is, he hasn't got anybody that suited him so
+well since John left. So you tell John that I mean to go surety for him;
+he certainly won't fail <i>me</i>. Tell him <i>I trust him</i>.&quot; And Miss Florence
+pulled out a paper wherein, in her best round hand, she had written out
+again the temperance pledge, and dated it &quot;<i>Christmas Eve, 1875</i>.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Now, you come with John to-morrow morning, and bring this with his name
+to it, and you'll see what I'll do!&quot; and, with a kiss to the children,
+the little good fairy departed, leaving the family to their Christmas
+Eve.</p>
+
+<p>What that Christmas Eve was, when the husband and father came home with
+the new and softened heart that had been given him, who can say? There
+were joyful tears and solemn prayers, and earnest vows and purposes of a
+new life heard by the Shining Ones in the room that night.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And the angels echoed around the throne,<br />
+Rejoice! for the Lord brings back his own.&quot;</p>
+
+
+<br /><hr style="width: 45%;" /><br />
+<h2 align="center">SCENE VI.</h2>
+
+
+<p>&quot;Now, papa, I want you to give me something special to-day, because it's
+Christmas,&quot; said the little princess to her father, as she kissed and
+wished him &quot;Merry Christmas&quot; next morning.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What is it, Pussy&mdash;half of my kingdom?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No, no, papa; not so much as that. It's a little bit of my own way that
+I want.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Of course; well, what is it?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, I want you to take John back again.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Her father's face grew hard.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Now, please, papa, don't say a word till you have heard me. John was a
+capital gardener; he kept the green-house looking beautiful; and this
+Mike that we've got now, he's nothing but an apprentice, and stupid as an
+owl at that! He'll never do in the world.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;All that is very true,&quot; said Mr. De Witt, &quot;but <i>John drinks</i>, and I
+<i>won't</i> have a drinking man.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But, papa, <i>I</i> mean to take care of that. I've written out the
+temperance pledge, and dated it, and got John to sign it, and <i>here it
+is</i>,&quot; and she handed the paper to her father, who read it carefully, and
+sat turning it in his hands while his daughter went on:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You ought to have seen how poor, how very poor they were. His wife is
+such a nice, quiet, hardworking woman, and has two such pretty children.
+I went to see them and carry them Christmas things yesterday, but it's no
+good doing anything if John can't get work. She told me how the poor
+fellow had been walking the streets in the cold, day after day, trying
+everywhere, and nobody would take him. It's a dreadful time now for a man
+to be out of work, and it isn't fair his poor wife and children should
+suffer. Do try him again, papa!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;John always did better with the pineapples than anybody we have tried,&quot;
+said Mrs. De Witt at this point. &quot;He is the only one who really
+understands pineapples.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>At this moment the door opened, and there was a sound of chirping voices
+in the hall. &quot;Please, Miss Florence,&quot; said Betty, &quot;the little folks says
+they wants to give you a Christmas.&quot; She added in a whisper: &quot;They thinks
+much of giving you something, poor little things&mdash;plaze take it of 'em.&quot;
+And little Tottie at the word marched in and offered the young princess
+his dear, beautiful, beloved string of glass beads, and Elsie presented
+the cross of red berries&mdash;most dear to her heart and fair to her eyes.
+&quot;We wanted to give <i>you something</i>&quot; she said bashfully.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, you lovely dears!&quot; cried Florence; &quot;how sweet of you! I shall keep
+these beautiful glass beads always, and put the cross up over my
+dressing-table. I thank you <i>ever</i> so much!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Are those John's children?&quot; asked Mr. De Witt, winking a tear out of his
+eye&mdash;he was at bottom a soft-hearted old gentleman.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes, papa,&quot; said Florence, caressing Elsie's curly hair,&mdash;&quot;see how sweet
+they are!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well&mdash;you may tell John I'll try him again.&quot; And so passed Florence's
+Christmas, with a new, warm sense of joy in her heart, a feeling of
+something in the world to be done, worth doing.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;How much joy one can give with a little money!&quot; she said to herself as
+she counted over what she had spent on her Christmas. Ah yes! and how
+true that &quot;It <i>is</i> more blessed to give than to receive.&quot; A shining,
+invisible hand was laid on her head in blessing as she lay down that
+night, and a sweet sense of a loving presence stole like music into her
+soul. Unknown to herself, she had that day taken the first step out of
+self-life into that life of love and care for others which brought the
+King of Glory down to share earth's toils and sorrows. And that precious
+experience was Christ's Christmas gift to her.</p>
+
+<p><img src="images/holly_dec.gif" alt="Decoration" /></p>
+<a name="deacon"></a>
+ <hr style="width: 45%;" />
+ <h1 align="center">DEACON PITKIN'S FARM. <br /></h1>
+ <hr style="width: 45%;" />
+ <div align="center"><br />
+ <img src="images/illp32.jpg" alt="The Pitkin Homestead" /> <br />
+ </div>
+
+<br /><hr style="width: 45%;" /><br />
+<h2 align="center">CHAPTER I.</h2>
+
+
+ <p><strong>MISS DIANA.</strong></p>
+
+<p>Thanksgiving was impending in the village of Mapleton on the 20th of
+November, 1825.</p>
+
+<p>The Governor's proclamation had been duly and truly read from the pulpit
+the Sunday before, to the great consternation of Miss Briskett, the
+ambulatory dressmaker, who declared confidentially to Deacon Pitkin's
+wife that &quot;she didn't see nothin' how she was goin' to get through
+things&mdash;and there was Saphiry's gown, and Miss Deacon Trowbridge's cloak,
+and Lizy Jane's new merino, not a stroke done on't. The Governor ought to
+be ashamed of himself for hurrying matters so.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>It was a very rash step for Miss Briskett to go to the length of such a
+remark about the Governor, but the deacon's wife was one of the few women
+who are nonconductors of indiscretion, and so the Governor never heard of
+it.</p>
+
+<p>This particular Thanksgiving tide was marked in Mapleton by exceptionally
+charming weather. Once in a great while the inclement New England skies
+are taken with a remorseful twinge and forget to give their usual snap of
+September frost which generally bites off all the pretty flowers in so
+heart-breaking a way, and then you can have lovely times quite down
+through November.</p>
+
+<p>It was so this year at Mapleton. Though the Thanksgiving proclamation had
+been read, and it was past the middle of November, yet marigolds and
+four-o'clocks were all ablaze in the gardens, and the golden rod and
+purple aster were blooming over the fields as if they were expecting to
+keep it up all winter.</p>
+
+<p>It really is affecting, the jolly good heart with which these bright
+children of the rainbow flaunt and wave and dance and go on budding and
+blossoming in the very teeth and snarl of oncoming winter. An autumn
+golden rod or aster ought to be the symbol for pluck and courage, and
+might serve a New England crest as the broom flower did the old
+Plantagenets.</p>
+
+<p>The trees round Mapleton were looking like gigantic tulip beds, and
+breaking every hour into new phantasmagoria of color; and the great elm
+that overshadowed the red Pitkin farm-house seemed like a dome of gold,
+and sent a yellow radiance through all the doors and windows as the
+dreamy autumn sunshine streamed through it.</p>
+
+<p>The Pitkin elm was noted among the great trees of New England. Now and
+then Nature asserts herself and does something so astonishing and
+overpowering as actually to strike through the crust of human stupidity,
+and convince mankind that a tree is something greater than they are. As a
+general thing the human race has a stupid hatred of trees. They embrace
+every chance to cut them down. They have no idea of their fitness for
+anything but firewood or fruit bearing. But a great cathedral elm, with
+shadowy aisles of boughs, its choir of whispering winds and chanting
+birds, its hush and solemnity and majestic grandeur, actually conquers
+the dull human race and asserts its leave to be in a manner to which all
+hearts respond; and so the great elms of New England have got to be
+regarded with a sort of pride as among her very few crown jewels, and the
+Pitkin elm was one of these.</p>
+
+<p>But wasn't it a busy time in Mapleton! Busy is no word for it. Oh, the
+choppings, the poundings, the stoning of raisins, the projections of pies
+and puddings, the killing of turkeys&mdash;who can utter it? The very chip
+squirrels in the stone-walls, who have a family custom of making a
+market-basket of their mouths, were rushing about with chops incredibly
+distended, and their tails had an extra whisk of thanksgiving alertness.
+A squirrel's Thanksgiving dinner is an affair of moment, mind you.</p>
+
+<p>In the great roomy, clean kitchen of the deacon's house might be seen the
+lithe, comely form of Diana Pitkin presiding over the roaring great oven
+which was to engulf the armies of pies and cakes which were in due course
+of preparation on the ample tables.</p>
+
+<p>Of course you want to know who Diana Pitkin was. It was a general fact
+about this young lady that anybody who gave one look at her, whether at
+church or at home, always inquired at once with effusion, &quot;Who is she?&quot;&mdash;particularly if the inquirer was one of the masculine gender.</p>
+
+<p>This was to be accounted for by the fact that Miss Diana presented to the
+first view of the gazer a dazzling combination of pink and white, a
+flashing pair of black eyes, a ripple of dimples about the prettiest
+little rosy mouth in the world, and a frequent somewhat saucy laugh,
+which showed a set of teeth like pearls. Add to this a quick wit, a
+generous though spicy temper, and a nimble tongue, and you will not
+wonder that Miss Diana was a marked character at Mapleton, and that the
+inquiry who she was was one of the most interesting facts of statistical
+information.</p>
+
+<p>Well, she was Deacon Pitkin's second cousin, and of course just in that
+convenient relationship to the Pitkin boys which has all the advantages
+of cousinship and none of the disadvantages as may be plain to an
+ordinary observer. For if Miss Diana wished to ride or row or dance with
+any of the Pitkin boys, why shouldn't she? Were they not her cousins? But
+if any of these aforenamed young fellows advanced on the strength of
+these intimacies a presumptive claim to nearer relationship, why, then
+Diana was astonished&mdash;of course she had regarded them as her cousins! and
+she was sure she couldn't think what they could be dreaming of&mdash;&quot;A cousin
+is just like a brother, you know.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>This was just what James Pitkin did not believe in, and now as he is
+walking over hill and dale from Cambridge College to his father's house
+he is gathering up a decided resolution to tell Diana that he is not and
+will not be to her as a brother&mdash;that she must be to him all or nothing.
+James is the brightest, the tallest, and, the Mapleton girls said, the
+handsomest of the Pitkin boys. He is a strong-hearted, generous, resolute
+fellow as ever undertook to walk thirty-five miles home to eat his
+Thanksgiving dinner.</p>
+
+<img src="images/illp37.jpg" alt="Diana" align="right" />
+ <p>We are not sure that Miss Diana is not thinking of him quite as much as
+he of her, as she stands there with the long kitchen shovel in one hand,
+and one plump white arm thrust into the oven, and her little head cocked
+on one side, her brows bent, and her rosy mouth pursed up with a solemn
+sense of the importance of her judgment as she is testing the heat of her
+oven.</p>
+
+<p>Oh, Di, Di! for all you seem to have nothing on your mind but the
+responsibility for all those pumpkin pies and cranberry tarts, we
+wouldn't venture a very large wager that you are not thinking about
+cousin James under it all at this very minute, and that all this pretty
+bustling housewifeliness owes its spice and flavor to the thought that
+James is coming to the Thanksgiving dinner.</p>
+
+<p>To be sure if any one had told Di so, she would have flouted the very
+idea. Besides, she had privately informed Almira Sisson, her special
+particular confidante, that she knew Jim would come home from college
+full of conceit, and thinking that everybody must bow down to him, and
+for her part she meant to make him know his place. Of course Jim and she
+were good friends, etc., etc.</p>
+
+<p>Oh, Di, Di! you silly, naughty girl, was it for this that you stood so
+long at your looking-glass last night, arranging how you would do your
+hair for the Thanksgiving night dance? Those killing bows which you
+deliberately fabricated and lodged like bright butterflies among the dark
+waves of your hair&mdash;who were you thinking of as you made and posed them?
+Lay your hand on your heart and say who to you has ever seemed the best,
+the truest, the bravest and kindest of your friends. But Di doesn't
+trouble herself with such thoughts&mdash;she only cuts out saucy mottoes from
+the flaky white paste to lay on the red cranberry tarts, of which she
+makes a special one for each cousin. For there is Bill, the second
+eldest, who stays at home and helps work the farm. She knows that Bill
+worships her very shoe-tie, and obeys all her mandates with the faithful
+docility of a good Newfoundland dog, and Di says &quot;she thinks everything
+of Bill&mdash;she likes Bill.&quot; So she does Ed, who comes a year or two behind
+Bill, and is trembling out of bashful boyhood. So she does Rob and Ike
+and Pete and the whole healthy, ramping train who fill the Pitkin farm-house
+with a racket of boots and boys. So she has made every one a tart
+with his initial on it and a saucy motto or two, &quot;just to keep them from
+being conceited, you know.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>All day she keeps busy by the side of the deacon's wife&mdash;a delicate,
+thin, quiet little woman, with great thoughtful eyes and a step like a
+snow-flake. New England had of old times, and has still, perhaps, in her
+farm-houses, these women who seem from year to year to develop in the
+spiritual sphere as the bodily form shrinks and fades. While the cheek
+grows thin and the form spare, the will-power grows daily stronger;
+though the outer man perish, the inner man is renewed day by day. The
+worn hand that seems so weak yet holds every thread and controls every
+movement of the most complex family life, and wonders are daily
+accomplished by the presence of a woman who seems little more than a
+spirit. The New England wife-mother was the one little jeweled pivot on
+which all the wheel work of the family moved.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, haven't we done a good day's work, cousin?&quot; says Diana, when
+ninety pies of every ilk&mdash;quince, apple, cranberry, pumpkin, and mince&mdash;have
+been all safely delivered from the oven and carried up into the
+great vacant chamber, where, ranged in rows and frozen solid, they are to
+last over New Year's day! She adds, demonstratively clasping the little
+woman round the neck and leaning her bright cheek against her whitening
+hair, &quot;Haven't we been smart?&quot; And the calm, thoughtful eyes turn
+lovingly upon her as Mary Pitkin puts her arm round her and answers:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes, my daughter, you have done wonderfully. We couldn't do without
+you!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And Diana lifts her head and laughs. She likes petting and praising as a
+cat likes being stroked; but, for all that, the little puss has her claws
+and a sly notion of using them.</p>
+
+
+<br /><hr style="width: 45%;" /><br />
+<h2 align="center">CHAPTER II.</h2>
+
+
+ <p><strong>BIAH CARTER.</strong></p>
+
+<p>It was in the flush and glow of a gorgeous sunset that you might have
+seen the dark form of the Pitkin farm-house rising on a green hill
+against the orange sky.</p>
+
+<p>The red house, with its overhanging canopy of elm, stood out like an old
+missal picture done on a gold ground.</p>
+
+<p>Through the glimmer of the yellow twilight might be seen the stacks of
+dry corn-stalks and heaps of golden pumpkins in the neighboring fields,
+from which the slow oxen were bringing home a cart well laden with farm
+produce.</p>
+
+<p>It was the hour before supper time, and Biah Carter, the deacon's hired
+man, was leaning against a fence, waiting for his evening meal; indulging
+the while in a stream of conversational wisdom which seemed to flow all
+the more freely from having been dammed up through the labors of the day.</p>
+
+<img src="images/illp43.jpg" alt="Biah" align="left" />
+ <p>Biah was, in those far distant times of simplicity a &quot;mute inglorious&quot;
+newspaper man. Newspapers in those days were as rare and unheard of as
+steam cars or the telegraph, but Biah had within him all the making of a
+thriving modern reporter, and no paper to use it on. He was a walking
+biographical and statistical dictionary of all the affairs of the good
+folks of Mapleton. He knew every piece of furniture in their houses, and
+what they gave for it; every foot of land, and what it was worth; every
+ox, ass and sheep; every man, woman and child in town. And Biah could
+give pretty shrewd character pictures also, and whoever wanted to inform
+himself of the status of any person or thing in Mapleton would have done
+well to have turned the faucet of Biah's stream of talk, and watched it
+respectfully as it came, for it was commonly conceded that what Biah
+Carter didn't know about Mapleton was hardly worth knowing.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Putty piece o' property, this 'ere farm,&quot; he said, surveying the scene
+around him with the air of a connoisseur. &quot;None o' yer stun pastur land
+where the sheep can't get their noses down through the rocks without a
+file to sharpen 'em! Deacon Pitkin did a putty fair stroke o' business
+when he swapped off his old place for this 'ere. That are old place was
+all swamp land and stun pastur; wa'n't good for raisin' nothin' but
+juniper bushes and bull frogs. But I tell <i>yeu</i>&quot; preceded Biah, with a
+shrewd wink, &quot;that are mortgage pinches the deacon; works him like a dose
+of aloes and picry, it does. Deacon fairly gets lean on't.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Why,&quot; said Abner Jenks, a stolid plow boy to whom this stream of remark
+was addressed; &quot;this 'ere place ain't mortgaged, is it? Du tell, naow!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Why, yis; don't ye know that are? Why there's risin' two thousand
+dollars due on this 'ere farm, and if the deacon don't scratch for it and
+pay up squar to the minit, old Squire Norcross'll foreclose on him. Old
+squire hain't no bowels, I tell yeu, and the deacon knows he hain't: and
+I tell you it keeps the deacon dancin' lively as corn on a hot shovel.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The deacon's a master hand to work,&quot; said Abner; &quot;so's the boys.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Wai, yis, the deacon is,&quot; said Biah, turning contemplatively to the
+farmhouse; &quot;there ain't a crittur in that are house that there ain't the
+most work got out of 'em that ken be, down to Jed and Sam, the little
+uns. They work like tigers, every soul of 'em, from four o'clock in she
+morning' as long as they can see, and Mis' Pitkin she works all the
+evening&mdash;woman's work ain't never done, they say.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;She's a good woman, Mis' Pitkin is,&quot; said Abner, &quot;and she's a smart
+worker.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>In this phrase Abner solemnly expressed his highest ideal of a human
+being.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Smart ain't no word for 't,&quot; said Biah, with alertness. &quot;Declar for 't,
+the grit o' that are woman beats me. Had eight children right along in a
+string 'thout stoppin', done all her own work, never kep' no gal nor
+nothin'; allers up and dressed; allers to meetin' Sunday, and to the
+prayer-meetin' weekly, and never stops workin': when 'tan't one thing
+it's another&mdash;cookin', washin', ironin', making butter and cheese, and
+'tween spells cuttin' and sewin', and if she ain't doin' that, why, she's
+braidin' straw to sell to the store or knitting&mdash;she's the perpetual
+motion ready found, Mis' Pitkin is.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Want ter know,&quot; said the auditor, as a sort of musical rest in this
+monotone of talk. &quot;Ain't she smart, though!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Smart! Well, I should think she was. She's over and into everything
+that's goin' on in that house. The deacon wouldn't know himself without
+her; nor wouldn't none of them boys, they just live out of her; she kind
+o' keeps 'em all up.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Wal, she ain't a hefty woman, naow,&quot; said the interlocutor, who seemed
+to be possessed by a dim idea that worth must be weighed by the pound.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Law bless you, no! She's a little crittur; nothin' to look to, but every
+bit in her is <i>live</i>. She looks pale, kind o' slips round still like
+moonshine, but where anything's to be done, there Mis' Pitkin is; and her
+hand allers goes to the right spot, and things is done afore ye know it.
+That are woman's kind o' still; she'll slip off and be gone to heaven
+some day afore folks know it. There comes the deacon and Jim over the
+hill. Jim walked home from college day 'fore yesterday, and turned right
+in to-day to help get in the taters, workin' right along. Deacon was
+awful grouty.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What was the matter o' the deacon?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, the mortgage kind o' works him. The time to pay comes round putty
+soon, and the deacon's face allers goes down long as yer arm. 'Tis a
+putty tight pull havin' Jim in college, losin' his work and havin' term
+bills and things to pay. Them are college folks charges <i>up</i>, I tell you.
+I seen it works the deacon, I heard him a-jawin' Jim 'bout it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What made Jim go to college?&quot; said Abner with slow wonder in his heavy
+face.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, he allers was sot on eddication, and Mis' Pitkin she's sot on't,
+too, in her softly way, and softly women is them that giner'lly carries
+their p'ints, fust or last.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But <i>there's</i> one that <i>ain't</i> softly!&quot; Biah suddenly continued, as the
+vision of a black-haired, bright-eyed girl suddenly stepped forth from
+the doorway, and stood shading her face with her hands, looking towards
+the sunset. The evening light lit up a jaunty spray of golden rod that
+she had wreathed in her wavy hair, and gave a glow to the rounded
+outlines of her handsome form. &quot;There's a sparkler for you! And no saint,
+neither!&quot; was Biah's comment. &quot;That crittur has got more prances and
+capers in her than any three-year-old filly I knows on. He'll be cunning
+that ever gets a bridle on her.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Some says she's going to hev Jim Pitkin, and some says it's Bill,&quot; said
+Abner, delighted to be able to add his mite of gossip to the stream while
+it was flowing.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;She's sweet on Jim while he's round, and she's sweet on Bill when Jim's
+up to college, and between um she gets took round to everything that
+going. She gives one a word over one shoulder, and one over t'other, and
+if the Lord above knows what's in that gal's mind or what she's up to, he
+knows more than I do, or she either, else I lose my bet.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Biah made this admission with a firmness that might have been a model to
+theologians or philosophers in general. There was a point, it appeared,
+where he was not omniscient. His universal statistical knowledge had a
+limit.</p>
+
+
+<br /><hr style="width: 45%;" /><br />
+<h2 align="center">CHAPTER III.</h2>
+
+
+ <p><strong>THE SHADOW.</strong></p>
+
+<p>There is no moment of life, however festive, that does not involve the
+near presence of a possible tragedy. When the concert of life is playing
+the gayest and airiest music, it requires only the change of a little
+flat or sharp to modulate into the minor key.</p>
+
+<p>There seemed at first glance only the elements of joyousness and gayety
+in the surroundings at the Pitkin farm. Thanksgiving was come&mdash;the
+family, healthy, rosy, and noisy, were all under the one roof-tree. There
+was energy, youth, intelligence, beauty, a pair of lovers on the eve of
+betrothal&mdash;just in that misty, golden twilight that precedes the full
+sunrise of avowed and accepted love&mdash;and yet behind it all was walking
+with stealthy step the shadow of a coming sorrow.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What in the world ails James?&quot; said Diana as she retreated from the door
+and surveyed him at a distance from her chamber window. His face was like
+a landscape over which a thunder-cloud has drifted, and he walked beside
+his father with a peculiar air of proud displeasure and repression.</p>
+
+<p>At that moment the young man was struggling with the bitterest sorrow
+that can befall youth&mdash;the breaking up of his life-purpose. He had just
+come to a decision to sacrifice his hopes of education, his man's
+ambition, his love, his home and family, and become a wanderer on the
+face of the earth. How this befell requires a sketch of character.</p>
+
+<p>Deacon Silas Pitkin was a fair specimen of a class of men not uncommon in
+New England&mdash;men too sensitive for the severe physical conditions of New
+England life, and therefore both suffering and inflicting suffering. He
+was a man of the finest moral traits, of incorruptible probity, of
+scrupulous honor, of an exacting conscientiousness, and of a sincere
+piety. But he had begun life with nothing; his whole standing in the
+world had been gained inch by inch by the most unremitting economy and
+self-denial, and he was a man of little capacity for hope, of whom it was
+said, in popular phraseology, that he &quot;took things hard.&quot; He was never
+sanguine of good, always expectant of evil, and seemed to view life like
+a sentinel forbidden to sleep and constantly under arms.</p>
+
+<p>For such a man to be harassed by a mortgage upon his homestead was a
+steady wear and drain upon his vitality. There were times when a positive
+horror of darkness came down upon him&mdash;when his wife's untroubled,
+patient hopefulness seemed to him like recklessness, when the smallest
+item of expense was an intolerable burden, and the very daily bread of
+life was full of bitterness; and when these paroxysms were upon him, one
+of the heaviest of his burdens was the support of his son in college. It
+was true that he was proud of his son's talents and sympathized with his
+love for learning&mdash;he had to the full that sense of the value of
+education which is the very vital force of the New England mind&mdash;and in
+an hour when things looked brighter to him he had given his consent to
+the scheme of a college education freely.</p>
+
+<p>James was industrious, frugal, energetic, and had engaged to pay the most
+of his own expenses by teaching in the long winter vacations. But
+unfortunately this year the Mapleton Academy, which had been promised to
+him for the winter term, had been taken away by a little maneuver of
+local politics and given to another, thus leaving him without resource.
+This disappointment, coming just at the time when the yearly interest
+upon the mortgage was due, had brought upon his father one of those
+paroxysms of helpless gloom and discouragement in which the very world
+itself seemed clothed in sack-cloth.</p>
+
+<p>From the time that he heard the Academy was gone, Deacon Silas lay awake
+nights in the blackness of darkness. &quot;We shall all go to the poorhouse
+together&mdash;that's where it will end,&quot; he said, as he tossed restlessly in
+the dark.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh no, no, my dear,&quot; said his wife, with those serene eyes that had
+looked through so many gloomy hours; &quot;we must cast our care on God.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It's easy for women to talk. You don't have the interest money to pay,
+you are perfectly reckless of expense. Nothing would do but James must go
+to college, and now see what it's bringing us to!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Why, father, I thought you yourself were in favor of it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, I did wrong then. You persuaded me into it. I'd no business to
+have listened to you and Jim and got all this load on my shoulders.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Yet Mary Pitkin knew in her own calm, clear head that she had not been
+reckless of expense. The yearly interest money was ever before her, and
+her own incessant toils had wrought no small portion of what was needed
+to pay it. Her butter at the store commanded the very highest price, her
+straw braiding sold for a little more than that of any other hand, and
+she had calculated all the returns so exactly that she felt sure that the
+interest money for that year was safe. She had seen her husband pass
+through this nervous crisis many times before, and she had learned to be
+blamed in silence, for she was a woman out of whom all selfness had long
+since died, leaving only the tender pity of the nurse and the consoler.
+Her soul rested on her Saviour, the one ever-present, inseparable friend;
+and when it did no good to speak to her husband, she spoke to her God for
+him, and so was peaceful and peace-giving.</p>
+
+<p>Even her husband himself felt her strengthening, rest-giving power, and
+for this reason he bore down on her with the burden of all his tremors and
+his cares; for while he disputed, he yet believed her, and rested upon
+her with an utter helpless trust, as the good angel of his house. Had
+<i>she</i> for a moment given way to apprehension, had <i>her</i> step been a
+thought less firm, her eye less peaceful, then indeed the world itself
+would have seemed to be sinking under his feet. Meanwhile she was to him
+that kind of relief which we derive from a person to whom we may say
+everything without a fear of its harming them. He felt quite sure that,
+say what he would, Mary would always be hopeful and courageous; and he
+felt some secret idea that his own gloomy forebodings were of service in
+restricting and sobering what seemed to him her too sanguine nature. He
+blindly reverenced, without ability fully to comprehend, her exalted
+religious fervor and the quietude of soul that it brought. But he did not
+know through how many silent conflicts, how many prayers, how many tears,
+how many hopes resigned and sorrows welcomed, she had come into that last
+refuge of sorrowful souls, that immovable peace when all life's anguish
+ceases and the will of God becomes the final rest.</p>
+
+<p>But, unhappily for this present crisis, there was, as there often is in
+family life, just enough of the father's nature in the son to bring them
+into collision with each other. James had the same nervously anxious
+nature, the same intense feeling of responsibility, the same tendency
+towards morbid earnestness; and on that day there had come collision.</p>
+
+<p>His father had poured forth upon him his fears and apprehensions in a
+manner which implied a censure on his son, as being willing to accept a
+life of scholarly ease while his father and mother were, as he expressed
+it, &quot;working their lives away.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But I tell you, father, as God is my witness, I <i>mean</i> to pay all; you
+shall not suffer; interest and principal&mdash;all that my work would bring&mdash;I
+engage to pay back.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You!&mdash;you'll never have anything! You'll be a poor man as long as you
+live. Lost the Academy this<br />
+ Fall&mdash;that tells the story!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But, father, it wasn't my fault that I lost the Academy.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It's no matter whose fault it was&mdash;that's neither here nor there&mdash;you
+lost it, and here you are with the vacation before you and nothing to do!
+There's your mother, she's working herself to death; she never gets any
+rest. I expect she'll go off in a consumption one of these days.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;There, there, father! that's enough! Please don't say any more. You'll
+see I <i>will</i> find something to do!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>There are words spoken at times in life that do not sound bitter though
+they come from a pitiable depth of anguish, and as James turned from his
+father he had taken a resolution that convulsed him with pain; his strong
+arms quivered with the repressed agony, and he hastily sought a distant
+part of the field, and began cutting and stacking corn-stalks with a
+nervous energy.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Why, ye work like thunder!&quot; was Biah's comment. &quot;Book l'arnin' hain't
+spiled ye yet; your arms are good for suthin'.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes, my arms are good for something, and I'll use them for something,&quot;
+said Jim.</p>
+
+<p>There was raging a tempest in his soul. For a young fellow of a Puritan
+education in those days to be angry with his father was somewhat that
+seemed to him as awful a sacrilege as to be angry with his God, and yet
+he felt that his father had been bitterly, cruelly unjust towards him. He
+had driven economy to the most stringent extremes; he had avoided the
+intimacy of his class fellows, lest he should be drawn into needless
+expenses; he had borne with shabby clothing and mean fare among better
+dressed and richer associates, and been willing to bear it. He had
+studied faithfully, unremittingly, for two years, but at the moment he
+turned from his father the throb that wrung his heart was the giving up
+of all. He had in his pocket a letter from his townsman and schoolmate,
+Sam Allen, mate of an East Indiaman just fitting out at Salem, and it
+said:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;We are going to sail with a picked crew, and we want one just such a
+fellow as you for third mate. Come along, and you can go right up, and
+your college mathematics will be all the better for us. Come right off,
+and your berth will be ready, and away for round the world!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Here, to be sure, was immediate position&mdash;wages&mdash;employment&mdash;freedom from
+the intolerable burden of dependence; but it was accepted at the
+sacrifice of all his life's hopes. True, that in those days the
+experiment of a sea-faring life had often, even in instances which he
+recalled, brought forth fortune and an ability to settle down in peaceful
+competence in after life. But there was Diana. Would she wait for him?
+Encircled on all sides with lovers, would she keep faith with an
+adventurer gone for an indefinite quest? The desponding, self-distrusting
+side of his nature said, &quot;No. Why should she?&quot; Then, to go was to give
+up Diana&mdash;to make up his mind to have her belong to some other. Then
+there was his mother. An unutterable reverential pathos always to him
+encircled the idea of his mother. Her life to him seemed a hard one. From
+the outside, as he viewed it, it was all self-sacrifice and renunciation.
+Yet he knew that she had set her heart on an education for him, as much
+as it could be set on anything earthly. He was her pride, her hope; and
+just now that very thought was full of bitterness. There was no help for
+it; he must not let her work herself to death for him; he would make the
+household vessel lighter by the throwing himself into the sea, to sink or
+swim as might happen; and then, perhaps, he might come back with money to
+help them all.</p>
+
+<p>All this was what was surging and boiling in his mind when he came in
+from his work to the supper that night.</p>
+
+
+<br /><hr style="width: 45%;" /><br />
+<h2 align="center">CHAPTER IV.</h2>
+
+
+ <p><strong>THE GOOD-BY.</strong></p>
+
+<p>Diana Pitkin was like some of the fruits of her native hills, full of
+juices which tend to sweetness in maturity, but which when not quite ripe
+have a pretty decided dash of sharpness. There are grapes that require a
+frost to ripen them, and Diana was somewhat akin to these.</p>
+
+<p>She was a mettlesome, warm-blooded creature, full of the energy and
+audacity of youth, to whom as yet life was only a frolic and a play
+spell. Work never tired her. She ate heartily, slept peacefully, went to
+bed laughing, and got up in a merry humor in the morning. Diana's laugh
+was as early a note as the song of birds. Such a nature is not at first
+sympathetic. It has in it some of the unconscious cruelty which belongs
+to nature itself, whose sunshine never pales at human trouble. Eyes that
+have never wept cannot comprehend sorrow. Moreover, a lively girl of
+eighteen, looking at life out of eyes which bewilder others with their
+brightness, does not always see the world truly, and is sometimes judged
+to be heartless when she is only immature.</p>
+
+<p>Nothing was further from Diana's thoughts than that any grave trouble was
+overhanging her lover's mind&mdash;for her lover she very well knew that James
+was, and she had arranged beforehand to herself very pretty little
+comedies of life, to be duly enacted in the long vacation, in which James
+was to appear as the suitor, and she, not too soon nor with too much
+eagerness, was at last to acknowledge to him how much he was to her. But
+meanwhile he was not to be too presumptuous. It was not set down in the
+cards that she should be too gracious or make his way too easy. When,
+therefore, he brushed by her hastily, on entering the house, with a
+flushed cheek and frowning brow, and gave no glance of admiration at the
+pretty toilet she had found time to make, she was slightly indignant. She
+was as ignorant of the pang which went like an arrow through his heart at
+the sight of her as the bobolink which whirrs and chitters and tweedles
+over a grave.</p>
+
+<p>She turned away and commenced a kitten-like frolic with Bill, who was
+always only too happy to second any of her motions, and readily promised
+that after supper she would go with him a walk of half a mile over to a
+neighbor's, where was a corn-husking. A great golden lamp of a harvest
+moon was already coming up in the fading flush of the evening sky, and
+she promised herself much amusement in watching the result of her
+maneuver on James.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;He'll see at any rate that I am not waiting his beck and call. Next
+time, if he wants my company he can ask for it in season. I'm not going
+to indulge him in sulks, not I. These college fellows worry over books
+till they hurt their digestion, and then have the blues and look as if
+the world was coming to an end.&quot; And Diana went to the looking-glass and
+rearranged the spray of golden-rod in her hair and nodded at herself
+defiantly, and then turned to help get on the supper.</p>
+
+<p>The Pitkin folk that night sat down to an ample feast, over which the
+impending Thanksgiving shed its hilarity. There was not only the
+inevitable great pewter platter, scoured to silver brightness, in the
+center of the table, and piled with solid masses of boiled beef, pork,
+cabbage and all sorts of vegetables, and the equally inevitable smoking
+loaf of rye and Indian bread, to accompany the pot of baked pork and
+beans, but there were specimens of all the newly-made Thanksgiving pies
+filling every available space on the table. Diana set special value on
+herself as a pie artist, and she had taxed her ingenuity this year to
+invent new varieties, which were received with bursts of applause by the
+boys. These sat down to the table in democratic equality,&mdash;Biah Carter
+and Abner with all the sons of the family, old and young, each eager,
+hungry and noisy; and over all, with moonlight calmness and steadiness,
+Mary Pitkin ruled and presided, dispensing to each his portion in due
+season, while Diana, restless and mischievous as a sprite, seemed to be
+possessed with an elfin spirit of drollery, venting itself in sundry
+little tricks and antics which drew ready laughs from the boys and
+reproving glances from the deacon. For the deacon was that night in one
+of his severest humors. As Biah Carter afterwards remarked of that night,
+&quot;You could feel there was thunder in the air somewhere round. The deacon
+had got on about his longest face, and when the deacon's face is about
+down to its wust, why, it would stop a robin singin'&mdash;there couldn't
+nothin' stan' it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>To-night the severely cut lines of his face had even more than usual of
+haggard sternness, and the handsome features of James beside him, in
+their fixed gravity, presented that singular likeness which often comes
+out between father and son in seasons of mental emotion. Diana in vain
+sought to draw a laugh from her cousin. In pouring his home-brewed beer
+she contrived to spatter him, but he wiped it off without a smile, and
+let pass in silence some arrows of raillery that she had directed at his
+somber face.</p>
+
+<p>When they rose from table, however, he followed her into the pantry.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Diana, will you take a walk with me to-night?&quot; he said, in a voice husky
+with repressed feeling.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;To-night! Why, I have just promised Bill to go with him over to the
+husking at the Jenks's. Why don't you go with us? We're going to have
+lots of fun,&quot; she added with an innocent air of not perceiving his
+gravity.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I can't,&quot; he said. &quot;Besides I wanted to walk with you alone. I had
+something special I wanted to say.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Bless me, how you frighten one! You look solemn as a hearse; but I
+promised to go with Bill to-night, and I suspect another time will do
+just as well. What you have to say will <i>keep</i>, I suppose,&quot; she said
+mischievously.</p>
+
+<p>He turned away quickly.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I should really like to know what's the matter with you to-night,&quot; she
+added, but as she spoke he went up-stairs and shut the door.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;He's cross to-night,&quot; was Diana's comment. &quot;Well, he'll have to get over
+his pet. I sha'n't mind it!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Up-stairs in his room James began the work of putting up the bundle with
+which he was to go forth to seek his fortune. There stood his books,
+silent and dear witnesses of the world of hope and culture and refined
+enjoyment he had been meaning to enter. He was to know them no more.
+Their mute faces seemed to look at him mournfully as parting friends. He
+rapidly made his selection, for that night he was to be off in time to
+reach the vessel before she sailed, and he felt even glad to avoid the
+Thanksgiving festivities for which he had so little relish. Diana's
+frolicsome gaiety seemed heart-breaking to him, on the same principle
+that the poet sings:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;How can ye chant, ye little birds,
+And I sae weary, fu' o' care?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>To the heart struck through with its first experiences of real suffering
+all nature is full of cruelty, and the young and light-hearted are a
+large part of nature.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;She has no feeling,&quot; he said to himself. &quot;Well, there is one reason the
+more for my going. <i>She</i> won't break her heart for me; nobody loves me
+but mother, and it's for her sake I must go. She mustn't work herself to
+death for me.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And then he sat down in the window to write a note to be given to his
+mother after he had sailed, for he could not trust himself to tell her
+what he was about to do. He knew that she would try to persuade him to
+stay, and he felt faint-hearted when he thought of her. &quot;She would sit
+up early and late, and work for me to the last gasp,&quot; he thought, &quot;but
+father was right. It is selfish of me to take it,&quot; and so he sat trying
+to fashion his parting note into a tone of cheerfulness.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;My dear mother,&quot; he wrote, &quot;this will come to you when I have set off on
+a four years' voyage round the world. Father has convinced me that it's
+time for me to be doing something for myself; and I couldn't get a school
+to keep&mdash;and, after all, education is got other ways than at college.
+It's hard to go, because I love home, and hard because you will miss me&mdash;though
+no one else will. But father may rely upon it, I will not be a
+burden on him another day. Sink or swim, I shall <i>never</i> come back till I
+have enough to do for myself, and you too. So good bye, dear mother. I
+know you will always pray for me, and wherever I am I shall try to do
+just as I think you would want me to do. I know your prayers will follow
+me, and I shall always be your affectionate son.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;P.S.&mdash;The boys may have those chestnuts and walnuts in my room&mdash;and in
+my drawer there is a bit of ribbon with a locket on it I was going to
+give cousin Diana. Perhaps she won't care for it, though; but if she
+does, she is welcome to it&mdash;it may put her in mind of old times.&quot;'</p>
+
+<p>And this is all he said, with bitterness in his heart, as he leaned on
+the window and looked out at the great yellow moon that was shining so
+bright as to show the golden hues of the overhanging elm boughs and the
+scarlet of an adjoining maple.</p>
+
+<p>A light ripple of laughter came up from below, and a chestnut thrown up
+struck him on the hand, and he saw Diana and Bill step from out the
+shadowy porch.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;There's a chestnut for you, Mr. Owl,&quot; she called, gaily, &quot;if you <i>will</i>
+stay moping up there! Come, now, it's a splendid evening; <i>won't</i> you
+come?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No, thank you. I sha'n't be missed,&quot; was the reply.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;That's true enough; the loss is your own. Good bye, Mr. Philosopher.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Good bye, Diana.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Something in the tone struck strangely through her heart. It was the
+voice of what Diana never had felt yet&mdash;deep suffering&mdash;and she gave a
+little shiver.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What an <i>awfully</i> solemn voice James has sometimes,&quot; she said; and then
+added, with a laugh, &quot;it would make his fortune as a Methodist minister.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The sound of the light laugh and little snatches and echoes of gay talk
+came back like heartless elves to mock Jim's sorrow.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;So much for <i>her</i>,&quot; he said, and turned to go and look for his mother.</p>
+
+
+<br /><hr style="width: 45%;" /><br />
+<h2 align="center">CHAPTER V.</h2>
+
+
+ <p><strong>MOTHER AND SON.</strong></p>
+
+<p>He knew where he should find her. There was a little, low work-room
+adjoining the kitchen that was his mother's sanctum. There stood her
+work-basket&mdash;there were always piles and piles of work, begun or
+finished; and there also her few books at hand, to be glanced into in
+rare snatches of leisure in her busy life.</p>
+
+<p>The old times New England house mother was not a mere unreflective drudge
+of domestic toil. She was a reader and a thinker, keenly appreciative in
+intellectual regions. The literature of that day in New England was
+sparse; but whatever there was, whether in this country or in England,
+that was noteworthy, was matter of keen interest, and Mrs. Pitkin's small
+library was very dear to her. No nun in a convent under vows of
+abstinence ever practiced more rigorous self-denial than she did in the
+restraints and government of intellectual tastes and desires. Her son was
+dear to her as the fulfillment and expression of her unsatisfied craving
+for knowledge, the possessor of those fair fields of thought which duty
+forbade her to explore.</p>
+
+<p>James stood and looked in at the window, and saw her sorting and
+arranging the family mending, busy over piles of stockings and shirts,
+while on the table beside her lay her open Bible, and she was singing to
+herself, in a low, sweet undertone, one of the favorite minor-keyed
+melodies of those days:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;O God, our help in ages past,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;Our hope for years to come,<br />
+Our shelter from the stormy blast<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;And our eternal home!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>An indescribable feeling, blended of pity and reverence, swelled in his
+heart as he looked at her and marked the whitening hair, the thin worn
+little hands so busy with their love work, and thought of all the bearing
+and forbearing, the waiting, the watching, the long-suffering that had
+made up her life for so many years. The very look of exquisite calm and
+resolved strength in her patient eyes and in the gentle lines of her face
+had something that seemed to him sad and awful&mdash;as the purely spiritual
+always looks to the more animal nature. With his blood bounding and
+tingling in his veins, his strong arms pulsating with life, and his heart
+full of a man's vigor and resolve, his mother's life seemed to him to be
+one of weariness and drudgery, of constant, unceasing self-abnegation.
+Calm he knew she was, always sustained, never faltering; but her victory
+was one which, like the spiritual sweetness in the face of the dying, had
+something of sadness for the living heart.</p>
+
+<p>He opened the door and came in, sat down by her on the floor, and laid
+his head in her lap.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Mother, you never rest; you never stop working.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, no!&quot; she said gaily, &quot;I'm just going to stop now. I had only a few
+last things I wanted to get done.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Mother, I can't bear to think of you; your life is too hard. We all have
+our amusements, our rests, our changes; your work is never done; you are
+worn out, and get no time to read, no time for anything but drudgery.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Don't say drudgery, my boy&mdash;work done for those we love <i>never</i> is
+drudgery. I'm so happy to have you all around me I never feel it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But, mother, you are not strong, and I don't see how you can hold out to
+do all you do.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well,&quot; she said simply, &quot;when my strength is all gone I ask God for
+more, and he always gives it. 'They that wait on the Lord shall renew
+their strength.'&quot; And her hand involuntarily fell on the open Bible.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes, I know it,&quot; he said, following her hand with his eyes&mdash;while
+&quot;Mother,&quot; he said, &quot;I want you to give me your Bible and take mine. I
+think yours would do me more good.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>There was a little bright flush and a pleased smile on his mother's face&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Certainly, my boy, I will.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I see you have marked your favorite places,&quot; he added. &quot;It will seem
+like hearing you speak to read them.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;With all my heart,&quot; she added, taking up the Bible and kissing his
+forehead as she put it into his hands.</p>
+
+<p>There was a struggle in his heart how to say farewell without saying it&mdash;without
+ letting her know that he was going to leave her. He clasped her
+in his arms and kissed her again and again.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Mother,&quot; he said, &quot;if I ever get into heaven it will be through you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Don't say that, my son&mdash;it must be through a better Friend than I am&mdash;who loves you more than I do. I have not died for you&mdash;He did.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, that I knew where I might find him, then. You I can see&mdash;Him I
+cannot.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>His mother looked at him with a face full of radiance, pity, and hope.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I feel sure you <i>will</i>&quot; she said. &quot;You are consecrated,&quot; she added, in a
+low voice, laying her hand on his head.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Amen,&quot; said James, in a reverential tone. He felt that she was at that
+moment&mdash;as she often<br />
+ was&mdash;silently speaking to One invisible of and for
+him, and the sense of it stole over him like a benediction. There was a
+pause of tender silence for many minutes.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, I must not keep you up any longer, mother dear&mdash;it's time you were
+resting. Good-night.&quot; And with a long embrace and kiss they separated. He
+had yet fifteen miles to walk to reach the midnight stage that was to
+convey him to Salem.</p>
+
+<p>As he was starting from the house with his bundle in his hand, the sound
+of a gay laugh came through the distant shrubbery. It was Diana and Bill
+returning from the husking. Hastily he concealed himself behind a clump
+of old lilac bushes till they emerged into the moonlight and passed into
+the house. Diana was in one of those paroxysms of young girl frolic which
+are the effervescence of young, healthy blood, as natural as the
+gyrations of a bobolink on a clover head. James was thinking of dark
+nights and stormy seas, years of exile, mother's sorrows, home perhaps
+never to be seen more, and the laugh jarred on him like a terrible
+discord. He watched her into the house, turned, and was gone.</p>
+
+
+<br /><hr style="width: 45%;" /><br />
+<h2 align="center">CHAPTER VI.</h2>
+
+
+ <p><strong>GONE TO SEA.</strong></p>
+
+<p>A little way on in his moonlight walk James's ears were saluted by the
+sound of some one whistling and crackling through the bushes, and soon
+Biah Carter, emerged into the moonlight, having been out to the same
+husking where Diana and Bill had been enjoying themselves. The sight of
+him resolved a doubt which had been agitating James's mind. The note to
+his mother which was to explain his absence and the reasons for it was
+still in his coat-pocket, and he had designed sending it back by some
+messenger at the tavern where he took the midnight stage; but here was a
+more trusty party. It involved, to be sure, the necessity of taking Biah
+into his confidence. James was well aware that to tell that acute
+individual the least particle of a story was like starting a gimlet in a
+pine board&mdash;there was no stop till it had gone through. So he told him in
+brief that a good berth had been offered to him on the <i>Eastern Star</i>,
+and he meant to take it to relieve his father of the pressure of his
+education.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Wal naow&mdash;you don't say so,&quot; was Biah's commentary. &quot;Wal, yis, 'tis hard
+sleddin' for the deacon&mdash;drefful hard sleddin.' Wal, naow, s'pose you're
+disapp'inted&mdash;shouldn't wonder&mdash;jes' so. Eddication's a good thing, but
+'taint the only thing naow; folks larns a sight rubbin' round the world&mdash;and
+then they make money. Jes' see, there's Cap'n Stebbins and Cap'n
+Andrews and Cap'n Merryweather&mdash;all livin' on good farms, with good, nice
+houses, all got goin' to sea. Expect Mis' Pitkin'll take it sort o' hard,
+she's so sot on you; but she's allers sayin' things is for the best, and
+maybe she'll come to think so 'bout this&mdash;folks gen'ally does when they
+can't help themselves. Wal, yis, naow&mdash;goin' to walk to the cross-road
+tavern? better not. Jest wait a minit and I'll hitch up and take ye over.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Thank you, Biah, but I can't stop, and I'd rather walk, so I won't
+trouble you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Wal, look here&mdash;don't ye want a sort o' nest-egg? I've got fifty silver
+dollars laid up: you take it on venture and give me half what it brings.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Thank you, Biah. If you'll trust me with it I'll hope to do something
+for us both.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Biah went into the house, and after some fumbling brought out a canvas
+bag, which he put into James's hand.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Wanted to go to sea confoundedly myself, but there's Mariar Jane&mdash;she
+won't hear on't, and turns on the water-works if I peep a single word.
+Farmin's drefful slow, but when a feller's got a gal he's got a cap'n; he
+has to mind orders. So you jest trade and we'll go sheers. I think
+consid'able of you, and I expect you'll make it go as fur as anybody.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I'll try my best, you may believe, Biah,&quot; said James, shaking the hard
+hand heartily, as he turned on his way towards the cross-roads tavern.</p>
+
+<p>The whole village of Maplewood on Thanksgiving Day morning was possessed
+of the fact that James Pitkin had gone off to sea in the <i>Eastern Star</i>,
+for Biah had felt all the sense of importance which the possession of a
+startling piece of intelligence gives to one, and took occasion to call
+at the tavern and store on his way up and make the most of his
+information, so that by the time the bell rang for service the news might
+be said to be everywhere. The minister's general custom on Thanksgiving
+Day was to get off a political sermon reviewing the State of New England,
+the United States of America, and Europe, Asia, and Africa; but it may be
+doubted if all the affairs of all these continents produced as much
+sensation among the girls in the singers' seat that day as did the news
+that James Pitkin had gone to sea on a four years' voyage. Curious eyes
+were cast on Diana Pitkin, and many were the whispers and speculations as
+to the part she might have had in the move; and certainly she looked
+paler and graver than usual, and some thought they could detect traces of
+tears on her cheeks. Some noticed in the tones of her voice that day, as
+they rose in the soprano, a tremor and pathos never remarked <br />
+before&mdash;the
+unconscious utterance of a new sense of sorrow, awakened in a soul that
+up to this time had never known a grief.</p>
+
+<p>For the letter had fallen on the heads of the Pitkin household like a
+thunderbolt. Biah came in to breakfast and gave it to Mrs. Pitkin, saying
+that James had handed him that last night, on his way over to take the
+midnight stage to Salem, where he was going to sail on the <i>Eastern Star</i>
+to-day&mdash;no doubt he's off to sea by this time. A confused sound of
+exclamations went up around the table, while Mrs. Pitkin, pale and calm,
+read the letter and then passed it to her husband without a word. The
+bright, fixed color in Diana's face had meanwhile been slowly ebbing
+away, till, with cheeks and lips pale as ashes, she hastily rose and left
+the table and went to her room. A strange, new, terrible pain&mdash;a
+sensation like being choked or smothered&mdash;a rush of mixed emotions&mdash;a
+fearful sense of some inexorable, unalterable crisis having come of her
+girlish folly&mdash;overwhelmed her. Again she remembered the deep tones of
+his good-by, and how she had only mocked at his emotion. She sat down and
+leaned her head on her hands in a tearless, confused sorrow.</p>
+
+<p>Deacon' Pitkin was at first more shocked and overwhelmed than his wife.
+His yesterday's talk with James had no such serious purpose. It had been
+only the escape-valve for his hypochondriac forebodings of the future,
+and nothing was farther from his thoughts than having it bear fruit in
+any such decisive movement on the part of his son. In fact, he secretly
+was proud of his talents and his scholarship, and had set his heart on
+his going through college, and had no more serious purpose in what he
+said the day before than the general one of making his son feel the
+difficulties and straits he was put to for him. Young men were tempted at
+college to be too expensive, he thought, and to forget what it cost their
+parents at home. In short, the whole thing had been merely the passing
+off of a paroxysm of hypochondria, and he had already begun to be
+satisfied that he should raise his interest money that year without
+material difficulty. The letter showed him too keenly the depth of the
+suffering he had inflicted on his son, and when he had read it he cast a
+sort of helpless, questioning look on his wife, and said, after an
+interval of silence:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, mother!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>There was something quite pathetic in the appealing look and voice.'</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, father,&quot; she answered in subdued tones; &quot;all we can do now is to
+<i>leave</i> it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>LEAVE IT!</p>
+
+<p>Those were words often in that woman's mouth, and they expressed that
+habit of her life which made her victorious over all troubles, that habit
+of trust in the Infinite Will that actually could and did <i>leave</i> every
+accomplished event in His hand, without murmur and without conflict.</p>
+
+<p>If there was any one thing in her uniformly self-denied life that had
+been a personal ambition and a personal desire, it had been that her son
+should have a college education. It was the center of her earthly wishes,
+hopes and efforts. That wish had been cut off in a moment, that hope had
+sunk under her feet, and now only remained to her the task of comforting
+the undisciplined soul whose unguided utterances had wrought the
+mischief. It was not the first time that, wounded by a loving hand in
+this dark struggle of life, she had suppressed the pain of her own hurt
+that he that had wounded her might the better forgive himself.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Dear father,&quot; she said to him, when over and over he blamed himself for
+his yesterday's harsh words to his son, &quot;don't worry about it now; you
+didn't mean it. James is a good boy, and he'll see it right at last; and
+he is in God's hands, and we must leave him there. He overrules all.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>When Mrs. Pitkin turned from her husband she sought Diana in her room.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, cousin! cousin!&quot; said the girl, throwing herself into her arms.
+&quot;<i>Is</i> this true? Is James <i>gone</i>? Can't we do <i>any</i> thing? Can't we get
+him back? I've been thinking it over. Oh, if the ship wouldn't sail! and
+I'd go to Salem and beg him to come back, on my knees. Oh, if I had only
+known yesterday! Oh, cousin, cousin! he wanted to talk with me, and I
+wouldn't hear him!&mdash;oh, if I only had, I could have persuaded him out of
+it! Oh, why didn't I know?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;There, there, dear child! We must accept it just as it is, now that it
+is done. Don't feel so. We must try to look at the good.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, show me that letter,&quot; said Diana; and Mrs. Pitkin, hoping to
+tranquilize her, gave her James's note. &quot;He thinks I don't care for him,&quot;
+she said, reading it hastily. &quot;Well, I don't wonder! But I <i>do</i> care! I
+love him better than anybody or anything under the sun, and I never will
+forget him; he's a brave, noble, good man, and I shall love him as long
+as I live&mdash;I don't care who knows it! Give me that locket, cousin, and
+write to him that I shall wear it to my grave.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Dear child, there is no writing to him.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, dear! that's the worst. Oh, that horrid, horrid sea! It's like
+death&mdash;you don't know where they are, and you can't hear from them&mdash;and a
+four years' voyage! Oh, dear! oh, dear!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Don't, dear child, don't; you distress me,&quot; said Mrs. Pitkin.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes, that's just like me,&quot; said Diana, wiping her eyes. &quot;Here I am
+thinking only of myself, and you that have had your heart broken are
+trying to comfort me, and trying to comfort Cousin Silas. We have both of
+us scolded and flouted him away, and now you, who suffer the most of
+either of us, spend your breath to comfort us. It's just like you. But,
+cousin, I'll try to be good and comfort you. I'll try to be a daughter to
+you. You need somebody to think of you, for you never think of yourself.
+Let's go in his room,&quot; she said, and taking the mother by the hand they
+crossed to the empty room. There was his writing-table, there his
+forsaken books, his papers, some of his clothes hanging in his closet.
+Mrs. Pitkin, opening a drawer, took out a locket hung upon a bit of blue
+ribbon, where there were two locks of hair, one of which Diana recognized
+as her own, and one of James's. She hastily hung it about her neck and
+concealed it in her bosom, laying her hand hard upon it, as if she would
+still the beatings of her heart.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It seems like a death,&quot; she said. &quot;Don't you think the ocean is like
+death&mdash;wide, dark, stormy, unknown? We cannot speak to or hear from them
+that are on it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But people can and do come back from the sea,&quot; said the mother,
+soothingly. &quot;I trust, in God's own time, we shall see James back.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But what if we never should? Oh, cousin! I can't help thinking of that.
+There was Michael Davis,&mdash;you know&mdash;the ship was never heard from.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well,&quot; said the mother, after a moment's pause and a choking down of
+some rising emotion, and turning to a table on which lay a Bible, she
+opened and read: &quot;If I take the wings of the morning and dwell in the
+uttermost parts of the sea, even there shall Thy hand lead me, and Thy
+right hand shall hold me.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The THEE in this psalm was not to her a name, a shadow, a cipher, to
+designate the unknowable&mdash;it stood for the inseparable Heart-friend&mdash;the
+Father seeing in secret, on whose bosom all her tears of sorrow had been
+shed, the Comforter and Guide forever dwelling in her soul, and giving
+peace where the world gave only trouble.</p>
+
+<p>Diana beheld her face as it had been the face of an angel. She kissed
+her, and turned away in silence.</p>
+
+
+<br /><hr style="width: 45%;" /><br />
+<h2 align="center">CHAPTER VII.</h2>
+
+
+ <p><strong>THANKSGIVING AGAIN.</strong></p>
+
+<p>Seven years had passed and once more the Thanksgiving tide was in
+Mapleton. This year it had come cold and frosty. Chill driving autumn
+storms had stripped the painted glories from the trees, and remorseless
+frosts had chased the hardy ranks of the asters and golden-rods back and
+back till scarce a blossom could be found in the deepest and most
+sequestered spots. The great elm over the Pitkin <br />
+farm-house had been
+stripped of its golden glory, and now rose against the yellow evening
+sky, with its infinite delicacies of net work and tracery, in their way
+quite as beautiful as the full pomp of summer foliage. The air without
+was keen and frosty, and the knotted twigs of the branches knocked
+against the roof and rattled and ticked against the upper window panes as
+the chill evening wind swept through them.</p>
+
+<p>Seven long years had passed since James sailed. Years of watching, of
+waiting, of cheerful patience, at first, and at last of resigned sorrow.
+Once they heard from James, at the first port where the ship stopped. It
+was a letter dear to his mother's heart, manly, resigned and Christian;
+expressing full purpose to work with God in whatever calling he should
+labor, and cheerful hopes of the future. Then came a long, long silence,
+and then tidings that the <i>Eastern Star</i> had been wrecked on a reef in
+the Indian ocean! The mother had given back her treasure into the same
+beloved hands whence she first received him. &quot;I gave him to God, and God
+took him,&quot; she said. &quot;I shall have him again in God's time.&quot; This was how
+she settled the whole matter with herself. Diana had mourned with all the
+vehement intensity of her being, but out of the deep baptism of sorrow
+she had emerged with a new and nobler nature. The vain, trifling,
+laughing Undine had received a soul and was a true woman. She devoted
+herself to James's mother with an utter self-sacrificing devotion,
+resolved as far as in her lay to be both son and daughter to her. She
+read, and studied, and fitted herself as a teacher in a neighboring
+academy, and persisted in claiming the right of a daughter to place all
+the amount of her earnings in the family purse.</p>
+
+<p>And this year there was special need. With all his care, with all his
+hard work and that of his family, Deacon Silas never had been able to
+raise money to annihilate the debt upon the farm.</p>
+
+<p>There seemed to be a perfect fatality about it. Let them all make what
+exertions they might, just as they were hoping for a sum that should
+exceed the interest and begin the work of settling the principal would
+come some loss that would throw them all back. One year their barn was
+burned just as they had housed their hay. On another a valuable horse
+died, and then there were fits of sickness among the children, and poor
+crops in the field, and low prices in the market; in short, as Biah
+remarked, &quot;The deacon's luck did seem to be a sort o' streaky, for do
+what you might there's always suthin' to put him back.&quot; As the younger
+boys grew up the deacon had ceased to hire help, and Biah had transferred
+his services to Squire Jones, a rich landholder in the neighborhood, who
+wanted some one to overlook his place. The increased wages had enabled
+him to give a home to Maria Jane and a start in life to two or three
+sturdy little American citizens who played around his house door.
+Nevertheless, Biah never lost sight of the &quot;deacon's folks&quot; in his
+multifarious cares, and never missed an opportunity either of doing them
+a good turn or of picking up any stray item of domestic news as to how
+matters were going on in that interior. He had privately broached the
+theory to Miss Briskett, &quot;that arter all it was James that Diany (he
+always pronounced all names as if they ended in y) was sot on, and that
+she took it so hard, his goin' off, that it did beat all! Seemed to make
+another gal of her; he shouldn't wonder if she'd come out and jine the
+church.&quot; And Diana not long after unconsciously fulfilled Biah's
+predictions.</p>
+
+<p>Of late Biah's good offices had been in special requisition, as the
+deacon had been for nearly a month on a sick bed with one of those
+interminable attacks of typhus fever which used to prevail in old times,
+when the doctor did everything he could to make it certain that a man
+once brought down with sickness never should rise again.</p>
+
+<p>But Silas Pitkin had a constitution derived through an indefinite
+distance from a temperate, hard-working, godly ancestry, and so withstood
+both death and the doctor, and was alive and in a convalescent state,
+which gave hope of his being able to carve the turkey at his Thanksgiving
+dinner.</p>
+
+<p>The evening sunlight was just fading out of the little &quot;keeping-room,&quot;
+adjoining the bed-room, where the convalescent now was able to sit up
+most of the day. A cot bed had been placed there, designed for him to lie
+down upon in intervals of fatigue. At present, however, he was sitting in
+his arm-chair, complacently watching the blaze of the hickory fire, or
+following placidly the motions of his wife's knitting-needles.</p>
+
+<p>There was an air of calmness and repose on his thin, worn features that
+never was there in days of old: the haggard, anxious lines had been
+smoothed away, and that spiritual expression which sickness and sorrow
+sometimes develops on the human face reigned in its place. It was the
+&quot;clear shining after rain.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Wife,&quot; he said, &quot;read me something I can't quite remember out of the
+Bible. It's in the eighth of Deuteronomy, the second verse.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Pitkin opened the big family Bible on the stand, and read, &quot;And thou
+shalt remember all the way in which the Lord thy God hath led thee these
+forty years in the wilderness, to humble thee and to prove thee and to
+know what is in thy heart, and whether thou wouldst keep his commandments
+or no. And he humbled thee, and suffered thee to hunger, and fed thee
+with manna, which thou knewest not, neither did thy fathers know, that he
+might make thee know that man doth not live by bread alone, but by every
+word that proceedeth out of the mouth of the Lord doth man live.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;There, that's it,&quot; interrupted the deacon. &quot;That's what I've been
+thinking of as I've lain here sick and helpless. I've fought hard to keep
+things straight and clear the farm, but it's pleased the Lord to bring me
+low. I've had to lie still and leave all in his hands.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And where better could you leave all?&quot; said his wife, with a radiant
+smile.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, just so. I've been saying, 'Here I am, Lord; do with me as seemeth
+to thee good,' and I feel a great quiet now. I think it's doubtful if we
+make up the interest this year. I don't know what Bill may get for the
+hay: but I don't see much prospect of raisin' on't; and yet I don't
+worry. Even if it's the Lord's will to have the place sold up and we be
+turned out in our old age, I don't seem to worry about it. His will be
+done.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>There was a sound of rattling wheels at this moment, and anon there came
+a brush and flutter of garments, and Diana rushed in, all breezy with the
+freshness of out-door air, and caught Mrs. Pitkin in her arms and kissed
+her first and then the deacon with effusion.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Here I come for Thanksgiving,&quot; she said, in a rich, clear tone, &quot;and
+here,&quot; she added, drawing a roll of bills from her bosom, and putting it
+into the deacon's hand, &quot;here's the interest money for this year. I got
+it all myself, because I wanted to show you I could be good for
+something.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Thank you, dear daughter,&quot; said Mrs. Pitkin. &quot;I felt sure some way would
+be found and now I see <i>what</i>.&quot; She added, kissing Diana and patting her
+rosy cheek, &quot;a very pleasant, pretty way it is, too.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I was afraid that Uncle Silas would worry and put himself back again
+about the interest money,&quot; said Diana.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, daughter,&quot; said the Deacon, &quot;it's a pity we should go through all
+we do in this world and not learn anything by it. I hope the Lord has
+taught me not to worry, but just do my best and leave myself and
+everything else in his hands. We can't help ourselves&mdash;we can't make one
+hair white or black. Why should we wear our lives out fretting? If I'd a
+known <i>that</i> years ago it would a been better for us all.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Never mind, father, you know it now,&quot; said his wife, with a face serene
+as a star. In this last gift of quietude of soul to her husband she
+recognized the answer to her prayers of years.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well now,&quot; said Diana, running to the window, &quot;I should like to know
+what Biah Carter is coming here about.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, Biah's been very kind to us in this sickness,&quot; said Mrs. Pitkin, as
+Biah's feet resounded on the scraper.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Good evenin', Deacon,&quot; said Biah, entering, &quot;Good evenin', Mrs. Pitkin.
+Sarvant, ma'am,&quot; to Diana&mdash;&quot;how ye all gettin' on?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Nicely, Biah&mdash;well as can be,&quot; said Mrs. Pitkin.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Wal, you see I was up to the store with some o' Squire Jones's bell
+flowers. Sim Coan he said he wanted some to sell, and so I took up a
+couple o' barrels, and I see the darndest big letter there for the
+Deacon. Miss Briskett she was in, lookin' at it, and so was Deacon
+Simson's wife; she come in arter some cinnamon sticks. Wal, and they all
+looked at it and talked it over, and couldn't none o' 'em for their lives
+think what it's all about, it was sich an almighty thick letter,&quot; said
+Biah, drawing out a long, legal-looking envelope and putting it in the
+Deacon's hands.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I hope there isn't bad news in it,&quot; said Silas Pitkin, the color
+flushing apprehensively in his pale cheeks as he felt for his spectacles.</p>
+
+<p>There was an agitated, silent pause while he broke the seals and took out
+two documents. One was the mortgage on his farm and the other a receipt
+in full for the money owed on it! The Deacon turned the papers to and
+fro, gazed on them with a dazed, uncertain air and then said:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Why, mother, do look! <i>Is</i> this so? Do I read it right?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Certainly, you do,&quot; said Diana, reading over his shoulder. &quot;Somebody's
+paid that debt, uncle!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Thank God!&quot; said Mrs. Pitkin, softly; &quot;He has done it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Wal, I swow!&quot; said Biah, after having turned the paper in his hands, &quot;if
+this 'ere don't beat all! There's old Squire Norcross's name on't. It's
+the receipt, full and square. What's come over the old crittur? He must
+a' got religion in his old' age; but if grace made him do <i>that</i>, grace
+has done a tough job, that's all; but it's done anyhow! and that's all
+you need to care about. Wal, wal, I must git along hum&mdash;Mariar Jane'll be
+wonderin' where I be. Good night, all on ye!&quot; and Biah's retreating wagon
+wheels were off in the distance, rattling furiously, for, notwithstanding
+Maria Jane's wondering, Biah was resolved not to let an hour slip by
+without declaring the wonderful tidings at the store.</p>
+
+<p>The Pitkin family were seated at supper in the big kitchen, all jubilant
+over the recent news. The father, radiant with the pleasantest
+excitement, had for the first time come out to take his place at the
+family board. In the seven years since the beginning of our story the
+Pitkin boys had been growing apace, and now surrounded the table quite an
+army of rosy-cheeked, jolly young fellows, who to-night were in a perfect
+tumult of animal gaiety. Diana twinkled and dimpled and flung her
+sparkles round among them, and there was unbounded jollity.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Who's that looking in at the window?&quot; called out Sam, aged ten, who sat
+opposite the house door. At that moment the door opened, and a dark
+stranger, bronzed with travel and dressed in foreign-looking garments,
+entered.</p>
+
+<p>He stood one moment, all looking curiously at him, then crossing the
+floor, he kneeled down by Mrs. Pitkin's chair, and throwing off his cap,
+looked her close in the eyes.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Mother, don't you know me?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>She looked at him one moment with that still earnestness peculiar to
+herself, and then fell into his arms. &quot;O my son, my son!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>There were a few moments of indescribable confusion, during which Diana
+retreated, pale and breathless, to a neighboring window, and stood with
+her hand over the locket which she had always worn upon her heart.</p>
+
+<p>After a few moments he came, and she felt him by her.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What, cousin!&quot; he said; &quot;no welcome from you?&quot; She gave one look, and he
+took her in his arms. She felt the beating of his heart, and he felt
+hers. Neither spoke, yet each felt at that moment sure of the other.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I say, boys,&quot; said James, &quot;who'll help bring in my sea chest?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Never was sea chest more triumphantly ushered; it was a contest who
+should get near enough to take some part in it's introduction, and soon
+it was open, and James began distributing its contents.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;There, mother,&quot; said he, undoing a heavy black India satin and shaking
+out its folds, &quot;I'm determined you shall have a dress fit for you; and
+here's a real India shawl to go with it. Get those on and you'll look as
+much like a queen among women as you ought to.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Then followed something for every member of the family, received with
+frantic demonstrations of applause and appreciation by the more juvenile.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, what's that?&quot; said Sam, as a package done up in silk paper and tied
+with silver cord was disclosed.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;That's&mdash;oh&mdash;that's my wife's wedding-dress,&quot; said James, unfolding and
+shaking out a rich satin; &quot;and here's her shawl,&quot; drawing out an
+embroidered box, scented with sandal-wood.</p>
+
+<p>The boys all looked at Diana, and Diana laughed and grew pale and red all
+in the same breath, as James, folding back the silk and shawl in their
+boxes, handed them to her.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Pitkin laughed and kissed her, and said, gaily, &quot;All right, my
+daughter&mdash;just right.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>What an evening that was, to be sure! What a confusion of joy and
+gladness! What a half-telling of a hundred things that it would take
+weeks to tell.</p>
+
+<p>James had paid the mortgage and had money to spare; and how he got it
+all, and how he was saved at sea, and where he went, and what befell him
+here and there, he promised to be telling them for six months to come.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, your father mustn't be kept up too late,&quot; said Mrs. Pitkin. &quot;Let's
+have prayers now, and then<br />
+to-morrow we'll be fresh to talk more.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>So they gathered around the wide kitchen fire and the family Bible was
+brought out.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Father,&quot; said James, drawing out of his pocket the Bible his mother had
+given him at parting, &quot;let me read my Psalm; it has been my Psalm ever
+since I left you.&quot; There was a solemn thrill in the little circle as
+James read the verses:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;They that go down to the sea in ships, that do business in great waters;
+these see the works of the Lord and his wonders in the deep. For he
+commandeth and raiseth the stormy wind which lifteth up the waves
+thereof. They mount up to the heaven; they go down again to the depths:
+their soul is melted because of trouble. Then they cry unto the Lord in
+their trouble, and he bringeth them out of their distresses. He maketh
+the storm a calm, so that the waves thereof are still. Then are they glad
+because they be quiet, so he bringeth them unto their desired haven. Oh
+that men would praise the Lord for his goodness, and for his wonderful
+works to the children of men!&quot;</p>
+
+<br /><hr style="width: 45%;" /><br />
+
+<p>When all had left the old kitchen, James and Diana sat by the yet glowing
+hearth and listened to the crickets, and talked over all the past and the
+future.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And now,&quot; said James, &quot;it's seven years since I left you, and to-morrow
+is the seventh Thanksgiving, and I've always set my heart on getting home
+to be married Thanksgiving evening.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But, dear me, Jim, we can't. There isn't time.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Why not?&mdash;we've got all the time there is!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But the wedding-dress can't be made, possibly.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, that can wait till the week after. You are pretty enough without
+it!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But what will they all say?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Who cares what they say? I don't,&quot; said James. &quot;The fact is, I've set my
+heart on it, and you owe me something for the way you treated me the last
+Thanksgiving I was here, seven years ago. Now don't you?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, yes, I do, so have it just as you will.&quot; And so it was accomplished
+the next evening.</p>
+
+<p>And among the wonders of Mapleton Miss Briskett announced it as chief,
+that it was the first time she ever heard of a bride that was married
+first and had her wedding-dress made the week after! She never had heard
+of such a thing.</p>
+
+<p>Yet, strange to say, for years after neither of the parties concerned
+found themselves a bit the worse for it.</p>
+
+
+<br /><a name="xmas"></a><hr style="width: 45%;" />
+
+<h1 align="center"> THE FIRST CHRISTMAS OF NEW ENGLAND. </h1>
+ <hr style="width: 45%;" /><br />
+<p>
+The shores of the Atlantic coast of America may well be a terror to
+navigators. They present an inexorable wall, against which forbidding and
+angry waves incessantly dash, and around which shifting winds continually
+rave. The approaches to safe harbors are few in number, intricate and
+difficult, requiring the skill of practiced pilots.</p>
+
+<p>But, as if with a pitying spirit of hospitality, old Cape Cod, breaking
+from the iron line of the coast, like a generous-hearted sailor intent on
+helpfulness, stretches an hundred miles outward, and, curving his
+sheltering arms in a protective circle, gives a noble harborage. Of this
+harbor of Cape Cod the report of our governmental Coast Survey thus
+speaks: &quot;It is one of the finest harbors for ships of war on the whole of
+our Atlantic coast. The width and freedom from obstruction of every kind
+at its entrance and the extent of sea room upon the bay side make it
+accessible to vessels of the largest class in almost all winds. This
+advantage, its capacity, depth of water, excellent anchorage, and the
+complete shelter it affords from all winds, render it one of the most
+valuable ship harbors upon our coast.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>We have been thus particular in our mention of this place, because here,
+in this harbor, opened the first scene in the most wonderful drama of
+modern history.</p>
+
+<p>Let us look into the magic mirror of the past and see this harbor of Cape
+Cod on the morning of the 11th of November, in the year of our Lord 1620,
+as described to us in the simple words of the pilgrims: &quot;A pleasant bay,
+circled round, except the entrance, which is about four miles over from
+land to land, <i>compassed about to the very sea</i> with oaks, pines,
+junipers, sassafras, and other sweet weeds. It is a harbor wherein a
+thousand sail of ship may safely ride.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Such are the woody shores of Cape Cod as we look back upon them in that
+distant November day, and the harbor lies like a great crystal gem on the
+bosom of a virgin wilderness. The &quot;fir trees, the pine trees, and the
+bay,&quot; rejoice together in freedom, for as yet the axe has spared them; in
+the noble bay no shipping has found shelter; no voice or sound of
+civilized man has broken the sweet calm of the forest. The oak leaves,
+now turned to crimson and maroon by the autumn frosts, reflect themselves
+in flushes of color on the still waters. The golden leaves of the
+sassafras yet cling to the branches, though their life has passed, and
+every brushing wind bears showers of them down to the water. Here and
+there the dark spires of the cedar and the green leaves and red berries
+of the holly contrast with these lighter tints. The forest foliage grows
+down to the water's edge, so that the dash of the rising and falling tide
+washes into the shaggy cedar boughs which here and there lean over and
+dip in the waves.</p>
+
+<p>No voice or sound from earth or sky proclaims that anything unwonted is
+coming or doing on these shores to-day. The wandering Indians, moving
+their hunting-camps along the woodland paths, saw no sign in the stars
+that morning, and no different color in the sunrise from what had been in
+the days of their fathers. Panther and wild-cat under their furry coats
+felt no thrill of coming dispossession, and saw nothing through their
+great golden eyes but the dawning of a day just like all other days&mdash;when
+&quot;the sun ariseth and they gather themselves into their dens and lay them
+down.&quot; And yet alike to Indian, panther, and wild-cat, to every oak of
+the forest, to every foot of land in America, from the stormy Atlantic to
+the broad Pacific, that day was a day of days.</p>
+
+<p>There had been stormy and windy weather, but now dawned on the earth one
+of those still, golden times of November, full of dreamy rest and tender
+calm. The skies above were blue and fair, and the waters of the curving
+bay were a downward sky&mdash;a magical under-world, wherein the crimson oaks,
+and the dusk plumage of the pine, and the red holly-berries, and yellow
+sassafras leaves, all flickered and glinted in wavering bands of color as
+soft winds swayed the glassy floor of waters.</p>
+
+<p>In a moment, there is heard in the silent bay a sound of a rush and
+ripple, different from the lap of the many-tongued waves on the shore;
+and, silently as a cloud, with white wings spread, a little vessel glides
+into the harbor.</p>
+
+<p>A little craft is she&mdash;not larger than the fishing-smacks that ply their
+course along our coasts in summer; but her decks are crowded with men,
+women, and children, looking out with joyous curiosity on the beautiful
+bay, where, after many dangers and storms, they first have found safe
+shelter and hopeful harbor.</p>
+
+<p>That small, unknown ship was the <i>Mayflower;</i> those men and women who
+crowded her decks were that little handful of God's own wheat which had
+been flailed by adversity, tossed and winnowed till every husk of earthly
+selfishness and self-will had been beaten away from them and left only
+pure seed, fit for the planting of a new world. It was old Master Cotton
+Mather who said of them, &quot;The Lord sifted three countries to find seed
+wherewith to plant America.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Hark now to the hearty cry of the sailors, as with a plash and a cheer
+the anchor goes down, just in the deep water inside of Long Point; and
+then, says their journal, &quot;being now passed the vast ocean and sea of
+troubles, before their preparation unto further proceedings as to seek
+out a place for habitation, they fell down on their knees and blessed the
+Lord, the God of heaven, who had brought them over the vast and furious
+ocean, and delivered them from all perils and miseries thereof.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Let us draw nigh and mingle with this singular act of worship. Elder
+Brewster, with his well-worn Geneva Bible in hand, leads the thanksgiving
+in words which, though thousands of years old, seem as if written for the
+occasion of that hour:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Praise the Lord because he is good, for his mercy endureth forever. Let
+them which have been redeemed of the Lord show how he delivereth them
+from the hand of the oppressor, And gathered them out of the lands: from
+the east, and from the west, from the north, and from the south, when
+they wandered in deserts and wildernesses out of the way and found no
+city to dwell in. Both hungry and thirsty, their soul failed in them.
+Then they cried unto the Lord in their troubles, and he delivered them in
+their distresses. And led them forth by the right way, that they might go
+unto a city of habitation. They that go down to the sea and occupy by the
+great waters: they see the works of the Lord and his wonders in the deep.
+For he commandeth and raiseth the stormy wind, and it lifteth up the
+waves thereof. They mount up to heaven, and descend to the deep: so that
+their soul melteth for trouble. They are tossed to and fro, and stagger
+like a drunken man, and all their cunning is gone. Then they cry unto the
+Lord in their trouble, and he bringeth them out of their distresses. He
+turneth the storm to a calm, so that the waves thereof are still. When
+they are quieted they are glad, and he bringeth them unto the haven where
+they would be.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>As yet, the treasures of sacred song which are the liturgy of modern
+Christians had not arisen in the church. There was no Watts, and no
+Wesley, in the days of the Pilgrims; they brought with them in each
+family, as the most precious of household possessions, a thick volume
+containing, first, the Book of Common Prayer, with the Psalter appointed
+to be read in churches; second, the whole Bible in the Geneva
+translation, which was the basis on which our present English translation
+was made; and, third, the Psalms of David, in meter, by Sternhold and
+Hopkins, with the music notes of the tunes, adapted to singing. Therefore
+it was that our little band were able to lift up their voices together in
+song and that the noble tones of Old Hundred for the first time floated
+over the silent bay and mingled with the sound of winds and waters,
+consecrating our American shores.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;All people that on earth do dwell,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;Sing to the Lord with cheerful voice:<br />
+Him serve with fear, His praise forthtell;<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;Come ye before Him and rejoice.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The Lord, ye know, is God indeed;<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;Without our aid He did us make;<br />
+We are His flock, He doth us feed,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;And for his sheep He doth us take.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;O enter then His gates with praise,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;Approach with joy His courts unto:<br />
+Praise, laud, and bless His name always,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;For it is seemly so to do.
+</p>
+<p>&quot;For why? The Lord our God is good,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;His mercy is forever sure;<br />
+His truth at all times firmly stood,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;And shall from age to age endure.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>This grand hymn rose and swelled and vibrated in the still November air;
+hile in between the pauses came the warble of birds, the scream of the
+jay, the hoarse call of hawk and eagle, going on with their forest ways
+all unmindful of the new era which had been ushered in with those solemn
+sounds.</p>
+
+
+<br /><hr style="width: 45%;" /><br />
+<h2 align="center">CHAPTER II.</h2>
+
+ <p><strong>THE FIRST DAY ON SHORE.</strong></p>
+
+<p>The sound of prayer and psalm-singing died away on the shore, and the
+little band, rising from their knees, saluted each other in that genial
+humor which always possesses a ship's company when they have weathered
+the ocean and come to land together.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, Master Jones, here we' are,&quot; said Elder Brewster cheerily to the
+ship-master.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Aye, aye, sir, here we be sure enough; but I've had many a shrewd doubt
+of this upshot. I tell you, sirs, when that beam amidships sprung and
+cracked Master Coppin here said we must give over&mdash;hands couldn't bring
+her through. Thou rememberest, Master Coppin?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;That I do,&quot; replied Master Coppin, the first mate, a stocky, cheery
+sailor, with a face red and shining as a glazed bun. &quot;I said then that
+praying might save her, perhaps, but nothing else would.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Praying wouldn't have saved her,&quot; said Master Brown, the carpenter, &quot;if
+I had not put in that screw and worked the beam to her place again.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Aye, aye, Master Carpenter,&quot; said Elder Brewster, &quot;the Lord hath
+abundance of the needful ever to his hand. When He wills to answer
+prayer, there will be found both carpenter and screws in their season, I
+trow.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, Deb,&quot; said Master Coppin, pinching the ear of a great mastiff
+bitch who sat by him, &quot;what sayest thou? Give us thy mind on it, old
+girl; say, wilt thou go deer-hunting with us yonder?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The dog, who was full of the excitement of all around, wagged her tail
+and gave three tremendous barks, whereat a little spaniel with curly
+ears, that stood by Rose Standish, barked aloud.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well done!&quot; said Captain Miles Standish. &quot;Why, here is a salute of
+ordnance! Old Deb is in the spirit of the thing and opens out like a
+cannon. The old girl is spoiling for a chase in those woods.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Father, may I go ashore? I want to see the country,&quot; said Wrestling
+Brewster, a bright, sturdy boy, creeping up to Elder Brewster and
+touching his father's elbow.</p>
+
+<p>Thereat there was a crying to the different mothers of girls and boys
+tired of being cooped up,&mdash;&quot;Oh, mother, mother, ask that we may all go
+ashore.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;For my part,&quot; said old Margery the serving-maid to Elder Brewster, &quot;I
+want to go ashore to wash and be decent, for there isn't a soul of us
+hath anything fit for Christians. There be springs of water, I trow.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Never doubt it, my woman,&quot; said Elder Brewster; &quot;but all things in their
+order. How say you, Mr. Carver? You are our governor. What order shall we
+take?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;We must have up the shallop,&quot; said Carver, &quot;and send a picked company to
+see what entertainment there may be for us on shore.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And I counsel that all go well armed,&quot; quoth Captain Miles Standish,
+&quot;for these men of the forest are sharper than a thorn-hedge. What! what!&quot;
+he said, looking over to the eager group of girls and boys, &quot;ye would go
+ashore, would ye? Why, the lions and bears will make one mouthful of ye.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I'm not afraid of lions,&quot; said young Wrestling Brewster in an aside to
+little Love Winslow, a golden-haired, pale-cheeked child, of a tender and
+spiritual beauty of face. &quot;I'd like to meet a lion,&quot; he added, &quot;and serve
+him as Samson did. I'd get honey out of him, I promise.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, there you are, young Master Boastful!&quot; said old Margery. &quot;Mind the
+old saying, 'Brag is a good dog, but holdfast is better.'&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Dear husband,&quot; said Rose Standish, &quot;wilt thou go ashore in this
+company?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Why, aye, sweetheart, what else am I come for&mdash;and who should go if not
+I?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Thou art so very venturesome, Miles.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Even so, my Rose of the wilderness. Why else am I come on this quest?
+Not being good enough to be in your church nor one of the saints, I come
+for an arm of flesh to them, and so, here goes on my armor.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And as he spoke, he buried his frank, good-natured countenance in an iron
+headpiece, and Rose hastened to help him adjust his corselet.</p>
+
+<p>The clang of armor, the bustle and motion of men and children, the
+barking of dogs, and the cheery Heave-o! of the sailors marked the
+setting off of the party which comprised some of the gravest, and wisest,
+as well as the youngest and most able-bodied of the ship's' company. The
+impatient children ran in a group and clustered on the side of the ship
+to see them go. Old Deb, with her two half-grown pups, barked and yelped
+after her master in the boat, running up and down the vessel's deck with
+piteous cries of impatience.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Come hither, dear old Deb,&quot; said little Love Winslow, running up and
+throwing her arms round the dog's rough neck; &quot;thou must not take on so;
+thy master will be back again; so be a good dog now, and lie down.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And the great rough mastiff quieted down under her caresses, and sitting
+down by her she patted and played with her, with her little thin hands.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;See the darling,&quot; said Rose Standish, &quot;what away that baby hath! In all
+the roughness and the terrors of the sea she hath been like a little
+sunbeam to us&mdash;yet she is so frail!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;She hath been marked in the womb by the troubles her mother bore,&quot; said
+old Margery, shaking her head. &quot;She never had the ways of other babies,
+but hath ever that wistful look&mdash;and her eyes are brighter than they
+should be. Mistress Winslow will never raise that child&mdash;now mark me!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Take care!&quot; said Rose, &quot;let not her mother hear you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Why, look at her beside of Wrestling Brewster, or Faith Carver. They are
+flesh and blood, and she looks as if she had been made out of sunshine.
+'Tis a sweet babe as ever was; but fitter for the kingdom of heaven than
+our rough life&mdash;deary me! a hard time we have had of it. I suppose it's
+all best, but I don't know.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, never talk that way, Margery,&quot; said Rose Standish; &quot;we must all keep
+up heart, our own and one another's.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Ah, well a day&mdash;I suppose so, but then I look at my good Master Brewster
+and remember how, when I was a girl, he was at our good Queen Elizabeth's
+court, ruffling it with the best, and everybody said that there wasn't a
+young man that had good fortune to equal his. Why, Master Davidson, the
+Queen's Secretary of State, thought all the world of him; and when he
+went to Holland on the Queen's business, he must take him along; and when
+he took the keys of the cities there, it was my master that he trusted
+them to, who used to sleep with them under his pillow. I remember when he
+came home to the Queen's court, wearing the great gold chain that the
+States had given him. Ah me! I little thought he would ever come to a
+poor man's coat, then!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, good Margery,&quot; said Rose, &quot;it isn't the coat, but the heart under
+it&mdash;that's the thing. Thou hast more cause of pride in thy master's
+poverty than in his riches.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Maybe so&mdash;I don't know,&quot; said Margery, &quot;but he hath had many a sore
+trouble in worldly things&mdash;driven and hunted from place to place in
+England, clapt into prison, and all he had eaten up with fines and
+charges and costs.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;All that is because he chose rather to suffer affliction with the people
+of God than to enjoy the pleasures of sin for a season,&quot; said Rose; &quot;he
+shall have his reward by and by.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, there be good men and godly in Old England that get to heaven in
+better coats and with easy carriages and fine houses and servants, and I
+would my master had been of such. But if he must come to the wilderness I
+will come with him. Gracious me! what noise is that?&quot; she exclaimed, as a
+sudden report of firearms from below struck her ear. &quot;I do believe there
+is that Frank Billington at the gunpowder; that boy will never leave, I
+do believe, till he hath blown up the ship's company.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>In fact, it appeared that young master Frank, impatient of the absence of
+his father, had toled Wrestling Brewster and two other of the boys down
+into the cabin to show them his skill in managing his father's fowling-piece,
+had burst the gun, scattering the pieces about the cabin.</p>
+
+<p>Margery soon appeared, dragging the culprit after her. &quot;Look here now,
+Master Malapert, see what you'll get when your father comes home! Lord a
+mercy! here was half a keg of powder standing open! Enough to have blown
+us all up! Here, Master Clarke, Master Clarke, come and keep this boy
+with you till his father come back, or we be all sent sky high before we
+know.&quot;</p>
+
+<br /><hr style="width: 45%;" /><br />
+
+<p>At even tide the boat came back laden to the water's edge with the first
+gettings and givings from the new soil of America. There is a richness
+and sweetness gleaming through the brief records of these men in their
+journals, which shows how the new land was seen through a fond and tender
+medium, half poetic; and its new products lend a savor to them of
+somewhat foreign and rare.</p>
+
+<p>Of this day's expedition the record is thus:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;That day, so soon as we could, we set ashore some fifteen or sixteen men
+well armed, with some to fetch wood, for we had none left; as also to see
+what the land was and what inhabitants they could meet with. They found
+it to be a small neck of land on this side where we lay in the bay, and
+on the further side the sea, the ground or earth, sand-hills, much like
+the downs in Holland, but much better; the crust of the earth a spit's
+depth of excellent black earth; all wooded with oaks, pines, sassafras,
+juniper, birch, holly, vines, some ash and walnut; the wood for the most
+part open and without underwood, fit either to walk or to ride in. At
+night our people returned and found not any people or inhabitants, and
+laded their boat with juniper, which smelled very sweet and strong, and
+of which we burned for the most part while we were there.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;See there,&quot; said little Love Winslow, &quot;what fine red berries Captain
+Miles Standish hath brought.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yea, my little maid, there is a brave lot of holly berries for thee to
+dress the cabin withal. We shall not want for Christmas greens here,
+though the houses and churches are yet to come.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yea, Brother Miles,&quot; said Elder Brewster, &quot;the trees of the Lord are
+full of sap in this land, even the cedars of Lebanon, which he hath
+planted. It hath the look to me of a land which the Lord our God hath
+blessed.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;There is a most excellent depth of black, rich earth,&quot; said Carver, &quot;and
+a great tangle of grapevines, whereon the leaves in many places yet hung,
+and we picked up stores of walnuts under a tree&mdash;not so big as our
+English ones&mdash;but sweet and well-flavored.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Know ye, brethren, what in this land smelleth sweetest to me?&quot; said
+Elder Brewster. &quot;It is the smell of liberty. The soil is free&mdash;no man
+hath claim thereon. In Old England a poor man may starve right on his
+mother's bosom; there may be stores of fish in the river, and bird and
+fowl flying, and deer running by, and yet though a man's children be
+crying for bread, an' he catch a fish or snare a bird, he shall be
+snatched up and hanged. This is a sore evil in Old England; but we will
+make a country here for the poor to dwell in, where the wild fruits and
+fish and fowl shall be the inheritance of whosoever will have them; and
+every man shall have his portion of our good mother earth, with no lords
+and no bishops to harry and distrain, and worry with taxes and tythes.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Amen, brother!&quot; said Miles Standish, &quot;and thereto I give my best
+endeavors with sword and buckler.&quot;</p>
+
+
+<br /><hr style="width: 45%;" /><br />
+<h2 align="center">CHAPTER III.</h2>
+
+ <p><strong>CHRISTMAS TIDE IN PLYMOUTH HARBOR.</strong></p>
+
+<p>For the rest of that month of November the <i>Mayflower</i> lay at anchor in
+Cape Cod harbor, and formed a floating home for the women and children,
+while the men were out exploring the country, with a careful and steady
+shrewdness and good sense, to determine where should be the site of the
+future colony. The record of their adventures is given in their journals
+with that sweet homeliness of phrase which hangs about the Old English of
+that period like the smell of rosemary in an ancient cabinet.</p>
+
+<p>We are told of a sort of picnic day, when &quot;our women went on shore to
+wash and all to refresh themselves;&quot; and fancy the times there must have
+been among the little company, while the mothers sorted and washed and
+dried the linen, and the children, under the keeping of the old mastiffs
+and with many cautions against the wolves and wild cubs, once more had
+liberty to play in the green wood. For it appears in these journals how,
+in one case, the little spaniel of John Goodman was chased by two wolves,
+and was fain to take refuge between his master's legs for shelter.
+Goodman &quot;had nothing in hand,&quot; says the journal, &quot;but took up a stick and
+threw at one of them and hit him, and they presently ran away, but came
+again. He got a pale-board in his hand, but they both sat on their tails
+a good while, grinning at him, and then went their way and left him.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Such little touches show what the care of families must have been in the
+woodland picnics, and why the ship was, on the whole, the safest refuge
+for the women and children.</p>
+
+<p>We are told, moreover, how the party who had struck off into the
+wilderness, &quot;having marched through boughs and bushes and under hills and
+valleys which tore our very armor in pieces, yet could meet with no
+inhabitants nor find any fresh water which we greatly stood in need of,
+for we brought neither beer nor water with us, and our victual was only
+biscuit and Holland cheese, and a little bottle of aqua vitae. So we were
+sore athirst. About ten o'clock we came into a deep valley full of brush,
+sweet gaile and long grass, through which we found little paths or
+tracks; and we saw there a deer and found springs of water, of which we
+were heartily glad, and sat us down and drunk our first New England water
+with as much delight as we ever drunk drink in all our lives.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Three such expeditions through the country, with all sorts of haps and
+mishaps and adventures, took up the time until near the 15th of December,
+when, having selected a spot for their colony, they weighed anchor to go
+to their future home.</p>
+
+<p>Plymouth Harbor, as they found it, is thus described:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;This harbor is a bay greater than Cape Cod, compassed with a goodly
+land, and in the bay two fine islands uninhabited, wherein are nothing
+but woods, oaks, pines, walnuts, beeches, sassafras, vines, and other
+trees which we know not. The bay is a most hopeful place, innumerable
+stores of fowl, and excellent good; and it cannot but be of fish in their
+season. Skate, cod, and turbot, and herring we have tasted of&mdash;abundance
+of mussels (clams) the best we ever saw; and crabs and lobsters in their
+time, infinite.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>On the main land they write:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The land is, for a spit's depth, excellent black mould and fat in some
+places. Two or three great oaks, pines, walnut, beech, ash, birch, hazel,
+holly, and sassafras in abundance, and vines everywhere, with cherry-trees,
+plum-trees, and others which we know not. Many kind of herbs we
+found here in winter, as strawberry leaves innumerable, sorrel, yarrow,
+carvel, brook-lime, liver-wort, water-cresses, with great store of leeks
+and onions, and an excellent strong kind of flax and hemp.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>It is evident from this description that the season was a mild one even
+thus late into December, that there was still sufficient foliage hanging
+upon the trees to determine the species, and that the pilgrims viewed
+their new mother-land through eyes of cheerful hope.</p>
+
+<p>And now let us look in the glass at them once more, on Saturday morning
+of the 23d of December.</p>
+
+<p>The little <i>Mayflower</i> lies swinging at her moorings in the harbor, while
+every man and boy who could use a tool has gone on shore to cut down and
+prepare timber for future houses.</p>
+
+<p>Mary Winslow and Rose Standish are sitting together on deck, fashioning
+garments, while little Love Winslow is playing at their feet with such
+toys as the new world afforded her&mdash;strings of acorns and scarlet holly-berries and some bird-claws and arrowheads and bright-colored ears of
+Indian corn, which Captain Miles Standish has brought home to her from
+one of their explorations.</p>
+
+<p>Through the still autumnal air may now and then be heard the voices of
+men calling to one another on shore, the quick, sharp ring of axes, and
+anon the crash of falling trees, with shouts from juveniles as the great
+forest monarch is laid low. Some of the women are busy below, sorting
+over and arranging their little household stores and stuff with a view to
+moving on shore, and holding domestic consultations with each other.</p>
+
+<p>A sadness hangs over the little company, for since their arrival the
+stroke of death has more than once fallen; we find in Bradford's brief
+record that by the 24th of December six had died.</p>
+
+<p>What came nearest to the hearts of all was the loss of Dorothea Bradford,
+who, when all the men of the party were absent on an exploring tour,
+accidentally fell over the side of the vessel and sunk in the deep
+waters. What this loss was to the husband and the little company of
+brothers and sisters appears by no note or word of wailing, merely by a
+simple entry which says no more than the record on a gravestone, that,
+&quot;on the 7th of December, Dorothy, wife of William Bradford, fell over and
+was drowned.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>That much-enduring company could afford themselves few tears. Earthly
+having and enjoying was a thing long since dismissed from their
+calculations. They were living on the primitive Christian platform; they
+&quot;rejoiced as though they rejoiced not,&quot; and they &quot;wept as though they
+wept not,&quot; and they &quot;had wives and children as though they had them not,&quot;
+or, as one of themselves expressed it, &quot;We are in all places strangers,
+pilgrims, travelers and sojourners; our dwelling is but a wandering, our
+abiding but as a fleeting, our home is nowhere but in the heavens, in
+that house not made with hands, whose builder and maker is God.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>When one of their number fell they were forced to do as soldiers in the
+stress of battle&mdash;close up the ranks and press on.</p>
+
+<p>But Mary Winslow, as she sat over her sewing, dropped now and then a tear
+down on her work for the loss of her sister and counselor and long-tried
+friend. From the lower part of the ship floated up, at intervals,
+snatches of an old English ditty that Margery was singing while she moved
+to and fro about her work, one of those genuine English melodies, full of
+a rich, strange mournfulness blent with a soothing pathos:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Fear no more the heat o' the sun<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;Nor the furious winter rages,<br />
+Thou thy worldly task hast done,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;Home art gone and ta'en thy wages.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The air was familiar, and Mary Winslow, dropping her work in her lap,
+involuntarily joined in it:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Fear no more the frown of the great,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;Thou art past the tyrant's stroke;<br />
+Care no more to clothe and eat,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;To thee the reed is as the oak.&quot;<br /></p>
+
+<p>&quot;There goes a great tree on shore!&quot; quoth little Love Winslow, clapping
+her hands. &quot;Dost hear, mother? I've been counting the strokes&mdash;fifteen&mdash;
+and then crackle! crackle! crackle! and down it comes!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Peace, darling,&quot; said Mary Winslow; &quot;hear what old Margery is singing
+below:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Fear no more the lightning's flash,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;Nor the all-dreaded thunder stone;<br />
+Fear not slander, censure rash&mdash;<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;Thou hast finished joy and moan.<br />
+All lovers young&mdash;all lovers must<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;Consign to thee, and come to dust.&quot;<br /></p>
+
+<p>&quot;Why do you cry, mother?&quot; said the little one, climbing on her lap and
+wiping her tears.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I was thinking of dear Auntie, who is gone from us.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;She is not gone from us, mother.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;My darling, she is with Jesus.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, mother, Jesus is ever with us&mdash;you tell me that&mdash;and if she is
+with him she is with us too&mdash;I know she is&mdash;for sometimes I see her. She
+sat by me last night and stroked my head when that ugly, stormy wind
+waked me&mdash;she looked so sweet, oh, ever so beautiful!&mdash;and she made me go
+to sleep so quiet&mdash;it is sweet to be as she is, mother&mdash;not away from us
+but with Jesus.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;These little ones see further in the kingdom than we,&quot; said Rose
+Standish. &quot;If we would be like them, we should take things easier. When
+the Lord would show who was greatest in his kingdom, he took a little
+child on his lap.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Ah me, Rose!&quot; said Mary Winslow, &quot;I am aweary in spirit with this
+tossing sea-life. I long to have a home on dry land once more, be it ever
+so poor. The sea wearies me. Only think, it is almost Christmas time,
+only two days now to Christmas. How shall we keep it in these woods?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Aye, aye,&quot; said old Margery, coming up at the moment, &quot;a brave muster
+and to do is there now in old England; and men and boys going forth
+singing and bearing home branches of holly, and pine, and mistletoe for
+Christmas greens. Oh! I remember I used to go forth with them and help
+dress the churches. God help the poor children, they will grow up in the
+wilderness and never see such brave sights as I have. They will never
+know what a church is, such as they are in old England, with fine old
+windows like the clouds, and rainbows, and great wonderful arches like
+the very skies above us, and the brave music with the old organs rolling
+and the boys marching in white garments and singing so as should draw the
+very heart out of one. All this we have left behind in old England&mdash;ah!
+well a day! well a day!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, but, Margery,&quot; said Mary Winslow, &quot;we have a 'better country' than
+old England, where the saints and angels are keeping Christmas; we
+confess that we are strangers and pilgrims on earth.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And Rose Standish immediately added the familiar quotation from the
+Geneva Bible:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;For they that say such things declare plainly that they seek a country.
+For if they had been mindful of that country from whence they came out
+they had leisure to have returned. But now they desire a better&mdash;that is,
+an heavenly; wherefore God is not ashamed of them to be called their
+God.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The fair young face glowed as she repeated the heroic words, for already,
+though she knew it not, Rose Standish was feeling the approaching sphere
+of the angel life. Strong in spirit, as delicate in frame, she had given
+herself and drawn her martial husband to the support of a great and noble
+cause; but while the spirit was ready, the flesh was weak, and even at
+that moment her name was written in the Lamb's Book to enter the higher
+life, in one short month's time from that Christmas.</p>
+
+<p>Only one month of sweetness and perfume was that sweet rose to shed over
+the hard and troubled life of the pilgrims, for the saints and angels
+loved her, and were from day to day gently untying mortal bands to draw
+her to themselves. Yet was there nothing about her of mournfulness; on
+the contrary, she was ever alert and bright, with a ready tongue to cheer
+and a helpful hand to do; and, seeing the sadness that seemed stealing
+over Mary Winslow, she struck another key, and, catching little Love up
+in her arms, said cheerily,</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Come hither, pretty one, and Rose will sing thee a brave carol for
+Christmas. We won't be<br />
+ down-hearted, will we? Hark now to what the
+minstrels used to sing under my window when I was a little girl:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I saw three ships come sailing in<br />
+On Christmas day, on Christmas day,<br />
+I saw three ships come sailing in<br />
+On Christmas day in the morning.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And what was in those ships all three<br />
+On Christmas day, on Christmas day,<br />
+And what was in those ships all three<br />
+On Christmas day in the morning?</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Our Saviour Christ and his laydie,<br />
+On Christmas day, on Christmas day,<br />
+Our Saviour Christ and his laydie<br />
+On Christmas day in the morning.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Pray, whither sailed those ships all three,<br />
+On Christmas day, on Christmas day?<br />
+Oh, they sailed into Bethlehem,<br />
+On Christmas day in the morning.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And all the bells on earth shall ring<br />
+On Christmas day, on Christmas day;<br />
+And all the angels in heaven shall sing<br />
+On Christmas day in the morning.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Then let us all rejoice amain,<br />
+On Christmas day, on Christmas day;<br />
+Then let us all rejoice amain<br />
+On Christmas day in the morning.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Now, isn't that a brave ballad?&quot; said Rose. &quot;Yea, and thou singest like
+a real English robin,&quot; said Margery, &quot;to do the heart good to hear thee.&quot;</p>
+
+
+<br /><hr style="width: 45%;" /><br />
+<h2 align="center">CHAPTER IV.</h2>
+
+ <p><strong>ELDER BREWSTER'S CHRISTMAS SERMON.</strong></p>
+
+<p>Sunday morning found the little company gathered once more on the ship,
+with nothing to do but rest and remember their homes, temporal and
+spiritual&mdash;homes backward, in old England, and forward, in Heaven. They
+were, every man and woman of them, English to the back-bone. From Captain
+Jones who commanded the ship to Elder Brewster who ruled and guided in
+spiritual affairs, all alike were of that stock and breeding which made
+the Englishman of the days of Bacon and Shakespeare, and in those days
+Christmas was knit into the heart of every one of them by a thousand
+threads, which no after years could untie.</p>
+
+<p>Christmas carols had been sung to them by nurses and mothers and
+grandmothers; the Christmas holly spoke to them from every berry and
+prickly leaf, full of dearest household memories. Some of them had been
+men of substance among the English gentry, and in their prosperous days
+had held high festival in ancestral halls in the season of good cheer.
+Elder Brewster himself had been a rising young diplomat in the court of
+Elizabeth, in the days when the Lord Keeper of the Seals led the revels
+of Christmas as Lord of Misrule.</p>
+
+<p>So that, though this Sunday morning arose gray and lowering, with snowflakes
+hovering through the air, there was Christmas in the thoughts of
+every man and woman among them&mdash;albeit it was the Christmas of wanderers
+and exiles in a wilderness looking back to bright home-fires across
+stormy waters.</p>
+
+<p>The men had come back from their work on shore with branches of green
+pine and holly, and the women had, stuck them about the ship, not without
+tearful thoughts of old home-places, where their childhood fathers and
+mothers did the same.</p>
+
+<p>Bits and snatches of Christmas carols were floating all around the ship,
+like land-birds blown far out to sea. In the forecastle Master Coppin was
+singing:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Come, bring with a noise,<br />
+My merry boys,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;The Christmas log to the firing;<br />
+While my good dame, she<br />
+Bids ye all be free,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;And drink to your hearts' desiring.<br />
+Drink now the strong beer,<br />
+Cut the white loaf here.<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;The while the meat is shredding<br />
+For the rare minced pie,<br />
+And the plums stand by<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;To fill the paste that's a-kneading.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Ah, well-a-day, Master Jones, it is dull cheer to sing Christmas songs
+here in the woods, with only the owls and the bears for choristers. I
+wish I could hear the bells of merry England once more.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And down in the cabin Rose Standish was hushing little Peregrine, the
+first American-born baby, with a Christmas lullaby:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;This winter's night<br />
+I saw a sight&mdash;<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;A star as bright as day;<br />
+And ever among<br />
+A maiden sung,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;Lullay, by-by, lullay!</p>
+
+<p>&quot;This lovely laydie sat and sung,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;And to her child she said,<br />
+My son, my brother, and my father dear,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;Why lyest thou thus in hayd?<br />
+My sweet bird,<br />
+Tho' it betide<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;Thou be not king veray;<br />
+But nevertheless<br />
+I will not cease<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;To sing, by-by, lullay!</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The child then spake in his talking,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;And to his mother he said,<br />
+It happeneth, mother, I am a king,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;In crib though I be laid,<br />
+For angels bright<br />
+Did down alight,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;Thou knowest it is no nay;<br />
+And of that sight<br />
+Thou may'st be light<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;To sing, by-by, lullay!</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Now, sweet son, since thou art a king,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;Why art thou laid in stall?<br />
+Why not ordain thy bedding<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;In some great king his hall?<br />
+We thinketh 'tis right<br />
+That king or knight<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;Should be in good array;<br />
+And them among,<br />
+It were no wrong<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;To sing, by-by, lullay!</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Mary, mother, I am thy child,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;Tho' I be laid in stall;<br />
+Lords and dukes shall worship me,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;And so shall kinges all.<br />
+And ye shall see<br />
+That kinges three<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;Shall come on the twelfth day;<br />
+For this behest<br />
+Give me thy breast,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;And sing, by-by, lullay!&quot;<br /></p>
+
+<p>&quot;See here,&quot; quoth Miles Standish, &quot;when my Rose singeth, the children
+gather round her like bees round a flower. Come, let us all strike up a
+goodly carol together. Sing one, sing all, girls and boys, and get a bit
+of Old England's Christmas before to-morrow, when we must to our work on
+shore.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Thereat Rose struck up a familiar ballad-meter of a catching rhythm, and
+every voice of young and old was soon joining in it:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Behold a silly,<a name="FNanchor1"></a><a href="#Footnote_1"><sup>[1]</sup></a> tender Babe,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;In freezing winter night,<br />
+In homely manger trembling lies;<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;Alas! a piteous sight,<br />
+The inns are full, no man will yield<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;This little Pilgrim bed;<br />
+But forced He is, with silly beasts<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;In crib to shroud His head.<br />
+Despise Him not for lying there,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;First what He is inquire:<br />
+An orient pearl is often found<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;In depth of dirty mire.<br /></p>
+
+<p>&quot;Weigh not His crib, His wooden dish,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;Nor beasts that by Him feed;<br />
+Weigh not His mother's poor attire,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;Nor Joseph's simple weed.<br />
+This stable is a Prince's court,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;The crib His chair of state,<br />
+The beasts are parcel of His pomp,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;The wooden dish His plate.<br />
+The persons in that poor attire<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;His royal liveries wear;<br />
+The Prince Himself is come from Heaven,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;This pomp is prized there.<br />
+With joy approach, O Christian wight,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;Do homage to thy King;<br />
+And highly praise His humble pomp,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;Which He from Heaven doth bring.&quot;<br />
+</p>
+<blockquote>
+<p><a name="Footnote_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor1">[1]</a> Old English&mdash;simple.</p></blockquote>
+
+<p>The cheerful sounds spread themselves through the ship like the flavor of
+some rare perfume, bringing softness of heart through a thousand tender
+memories.</p>
+
+<p>Anon, the hour of Sabbath morning worship drew on, and Elder Brewster
+read from the New Testament the whole story of the Nativity, and then
+gave a sort of Christmas homily from the words of St. Paul, in the eighth
+chapter of Romans, the sixth and seventh verses, which the Geneva version
+thus renders:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;For the wisdom of the flesh is death, but the wisdom of the spirit is
+life and peace.<br /></p>
+<p>&quot;For the wisdom of the flesh is enmity against God, for it is not subject
+to the law of God, neither indeed can be.&quot;<br /></p>
+<p>&quot;Ye know full well, dear brethren, what the wisdom of the flesh sayeth.
+The wisdom of the flesh sayeth to each one, 'Take care of thyself; look
+after thyself, to get and to have and to hold and to enjoy.' The wisdom
+of the flesh sayeth, 'So thou art warm, full, and in good liking, take
+thine ease, eat, drink, and be merry, and care not how many go empty and
+be lacking.' But ye have seen in the Gospel this morning that this was
+not the wisdom of our Lord Jesus Christ, who, though he was Lord of all,
+became poorer than any, that we, through His poverty, might become rich.
+When our Lord Jesus Christ came, the wisdom of the flesh despised Him;
+the wisdom of the flesh had no room for Him at the inn.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;There was room enough always for Herod and his concubines, for the
+wisdom of the flesh set great store by them; but a poor man and woman
+were thrust out to a stable; and <i>there</i> was a poor baby born whom the
+wisdom of the flesh knew not, because the wisdom of the flesh is enmity
+against God.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The wisdom of the flesh, brethren, ever despiseth the wisdom of God,
+because it knoweth it not. The wisdom of the flesh looketh at the thing
+that is great and strong and high; it looketh at riches, at kings'
+courts, at fine clothes and fine jewels and fine feastings, and it
+despiseth the little and the poor and the weak.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But the wisdom of the Spirit goeth to worship the poor babe in the
+manger, and layeth gold and myrrh and frankincense at his feet while he
+lieth in weakness and poverty, as did the wise men who were taught of
+God.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Now, forasmuch as our Saviour Christ left His riches and throne in glory
+and came in weakness and poverty to this world, that he might work out a
+mighty salvation that shall be to all people, how can we better keep
+Christmas than to follow in his steps? We be a little company who have
+forsaken houses and lands and possessions, and come here unto the
+wilderness that we may prepare a resting-place whereto others shall come
+to reap what we shall sow. And to-morrow we shall keep our first
+Christmas, not in flesh-pleasing, and in reveling and in fullness of
+bread, but in small beginning and great weakness, as our Lord Christ kept
+it when He was born in a stable and lay in a manger.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;To-morrow, God willing, we will all go forth to do good, honest
+Christian work, and begin the first house-building in this our New
+England&mdash;it may be roughly fashioned, but as good a house, I'll warrant
+me, as our Lord Christ had on the Christmas Day we wot of. And let us not
+faint in heart because the wisdom of the world despiseth what we do.
+Though Sanballat the Horonite, and Tobias the Ammonite, and Geshem the
+Arabian make scorn of us, and say, 'What do these weak Jews? If a fox go
+up, he shall break down their stone wall;' yet the Lord our God is with
+us, and He can cause our work to prosper.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The wisdom of the Spirit seeth the grain of mustard-seed, that is the
+least of all seeds, how it shall become a great tree, and the fowls of
+heaven shall lodge in its branches. Let us, then, lift up the hands that
+hang down and the feeble knees, and let us hope that, like as great
+salvation to all people came out of small beginnings of Bethlehem, so the
+work which we shall begin to-morrow shall be for the good of many
+nations.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It is a custom on this Christmas Day to give love-presents. What love-gift
+giveth our Lord Jesus on this day? Brethren, it is a great one and a
+precious; as St. Paul said to the Philippians: 'For unto you it is given
+for Christ, not only that ye should believe on Him, but also that ye
+should suffer for His sake;' and St. Peter also saith, 'Behold, we count
+them blessed which endure.' And the holy Apostles rejoiced that they were
+counted worthy to suffer rebuke for the name of Jesus.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Our Lord Christ giveth us of His cup and His baptism; He giveth of the
+manger and the straw; He giveth of persecutions and afflictions; He
+giveth of the crown of thorns, and right dear unto us be these gifts.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And now will I tell these children a story, which a cunning playwright,
+whom I once knew in our Queen's court, hath made concerning gifts:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;A great king would marry his daughter worthily, and so he caused three
+caskets to be made, in one of which he hid her picture. The one casket
+was of gold set with diamonds, the second of silver set with pearls, and
+the third a poor casket of lead.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Now it was given out that each comer should have but one choice, and if
+he chose the one with the picture he should have the lady to wife.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Divers kings, knights, and gentlemen came from far, but they never won,
+because they always snatched at the gold and the silver caskets, with the
+pearls and diamonds. So, when they opened these, they found only a
+grinning death's-head or a fool's cap.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But anon cometh a true, brave knight and gentleman, who chooseth for
+love alone the old leaden casket; and, behold, within is the picture of
+her he loveth! and they were married with great feasting and content.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;So our Lord Jesus doth not offer himself to us in silver and gold and
+jewels, but in poverty and hardness and want; but whoso chooseth them for
+His love's sake shall find Him therein whom his soul loveth, and shall
+enter with joy to the marriage supper of the Lamb.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And when the Lord shall come again in his glory, then he shall bring
+worthy gifts with him, for he saith: 'Be thou faithful unto death, and I
+will give thee a crown of life; to him that overcometh I will give to eat
+of the hidden manna, and I will give him a white stone with a new name
+that no man knoweth save he that receiveth it. He that overcometh and
+keepeth my words, I will give power over the nations and I will give him
+the morning star.'</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Let us then take joyfully Christ's Christmas gifts of labors and
+adversities and crosses to-day, that when he shall appear we may have
+these great and wonderful gifts at his coming; for if we suffer with him
+we shall also reign; but if we deny him, he also will deny us.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And so it happens that the only record of Christmas Day in the pilgrims'
+journal is this:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Monday, the 25th, being Christmas Day, we went ashore, some to fell
+timber, some to saw, some to rive, and some to carry; and so no man
+rested all that day. But towards night some, as they were at work, heard
+a noise of Indians, which caused us all to go to our muskets; but we
+heard no further, so we came aboard again, leaving some to keep guard.
+That night we had a sore storm of wind and rain. But at night the shipmaster
+caused us to have some beer aboard.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>So worthily kept they the first Christmas, from which comes all the
+Christmas cheer of New England <br />
+to-day. There is no record how Mary
+Winslow and Rose Standish and others, with women and children, came
+ashore and walked about encouraging the builders; and how little Love
+gathered stores of bright checker-berries and partridge plums, and was
+made merry in seeing squirrels and wild rabbits; nor how old Margery
+roasted certain wild geese to a turn at a woodland fire, and conserved
+wild cranberries with honey for sauce. In their journals the good
+pilgrims say they found bushels of strawberries in the meadows in
+December. But we, knowing the nature of things, know that these must have
+been cranberries, which grow still abundantly around Plymouth harbor.</p>
+
+<p>And at the very time that all this was doing in the wilderness, and the
+men were working yeomanly to build a new nation, in King James's court
+the ambassadors of the French King were being entertained with maskings
+and mummerings, wherein the staple subject of merriment was the Puritans!</p>
+
+<p>So goes the wisdom of the world and its ways&mdash;and so goes the wisdom of
+God!</p>
+</td>
+ </tr>
+</table>
+<hr />
+<pre>
+
+***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BETTY'S BRIGHT IDEA; DEACON PITKIN'S FARM; AND THE FIRST CHRISTMAS OF NEW ENGLAND***
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+The Project Gutenberg eBook, Betty's Bright Idea; Deacon Pitkin's Farm;
+and The First Christmas of New England, by Harriet Beecher Stowe
+
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+Title: Betty's Bright Idea; Deacon Pitkin's Farm; and The First Christmas
+of New England
+
+Author: Harriet Beecher Stowe
+
+Release Date: January 15, 2004 [eBook #10723]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: US-ASCII
+
+
+***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BETTY'S BRIGHT IDEA; DEACON
+PITKIN'S FARM; AND THE FIRST CHRISTMAS OF NEW ENGLAND***
+
+
+E-text prepared by Suzanne Shell, Richard Prairie, Sjaani, and Project
+Gutenberg Distributed Proofreaders
+
+
+
+BETTY'S BRIGHT IDEA
+
+also
+
+DEACON PITKIN'S FARM,
+
+and
+
+THE FIRST CHRISTMAS OF NEW ENGLAND.
+
+BY HARRIET BEECHER STOWE.
+
+With Illustrations.
+
+1875.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: The Children in the Churchyard.]
+
+
+
+
+
+
+BETTY'S BRIGHT IDEA.
+
+
+
+"When He ascended up on high, He led captivity captive, and gave gifts
+unto men."--Eph. iv. 8.
+
+Some say that ever, 'gainst that season comes
+Wherein our Saviour's birth is celebrate,
+The bird of dawning singeth all night long.
+And then, they say, no evil spirit walks;
+The nights are wholesome; then no planets strike,
+No fairy takes, no witch hath power to charm,--
+So hallowed and so gracious is the time.
+
+And this holy time, so hallowed and so gracious, was settling down over
+the great roaring, rattling, seething life-world of New York in the good
+year 1875. Who does not feel its on-coming in the shops and streets, in
+the festive air of trade and business, in the thousand garnitures by
+which every store hangs out triumphal banners and solicits you to buy
+something for a Christmas gift? For it is the peculiarity of all this
+array of prints, confectionery, dry goods, and manufactures of all kinds,
+that their bravery and splendor at Christmas tide is all to seduce you
+into generosity, and importune you to give something to others. It says
+to you, "The dear God gave you an unspeakable gift; give you a lesser
+gift to your brother!"
+
+Do we ever think, when we walk those busy, bustling streets, all alive
+with Christmas shoppers, and mingle with the rushing tides that throng
+and jostle through the stores, that unseen spirits may be hastening to
+and fro along those same ways bearing Christ's Christmas gifts to men--
+gifts whose value no earthly gold or gems can represent?
+
+Yet, on this morning of the day before Christmas, were these Shining
+Ones, moving to and fro with the crowd, whose faces were loving and
+serene as the invisible stars, whose robes took no defilement from the
+spatter and the rush of earth, whose coming and going was still as the
+falling snow-flakes. They entered houses without ringing door-bells, they
+passed through apartments without opening doors, and everywhere they were
+bearing Christ's Christmas presents, and silently offering them to
+whoever would open their souls to receive. Like themselves, their gifts
+were invisible--incapable of weight and measurement in gross earthly
+scales. To mourners they carried joy; to weary and perplexed hearts,
+peace; to souls stifling in luxury and self-indulgence they carried that
+noble discontent that rises to aspiration for higher things. Sometimes
+they took away an earthly treasure to make room for a heavenly one. They
+took health, but left resignation and cheerful faith. They took the babe
+from the dear cradle, but left in its place a heart full of pity for the
+suffering on earth and a fellowship with the blessed in heaven. Let us
+follow their footsteps awhile.
+
+
+
+SCENE I.
+
+
+A young girl's boudoir in one of our American palaces of luxury, built
+after the choicest fancy of the architect, and furnished in all the
+latest devices of household decoration. Pictures, statuettes, and every
+form of _bijouterie_ make the room a miracle of beauty, and the little
+princess of all sits in an easy chair before the fire, and thus revolves
+with herself:
+
+"O, dear me! Christmas is a bore! Such a rush and crush in the streets,
+such a jam in the shops, and then _such_ a fuss thinking up presents for
+everybody! All for nothing, too; for nobody Wants anything. I'm sure _I_
+don't. I'm surfeited now with pictures and jewelry, and bon-bon boxes,
+and little china dogs and cats--and all these things that get so thick
+you can't move without upsetting some of them. There's papa, he don't
+want anything. He never uses any of my Christmas presents when I get
+them; and mamma, she has every earthly thing I can think of, and said the
+other day she did hope nobody'd give her any more worsted work! Then Aunt
+Maria and Uncle John, they don't want the things I give them; they have
+more than they know what to do with, now. All the boys say they don't
+want any more cigar cases or slippers, or smoking caps. Oh, dear!"
+
+Here the Shining Ones came and stood over the little lady, and looked
+down on her with faces of pity, which seemed blent with a serene and
+half-amused indulgence. It was a heavenly amusement, such as that with
+which mothers listen to the foolish-wise prattle of children just
+learning to talk.
+
+As the grave, sweet eyes rested tenderly on her, the girl somehow grew
+graver, leaned back in her chair, and sighed a little.
+
+"I wish I knew how to be better!" she said to herself. "I remember last
+Sunday's text, 'It is more blessed to give than to receive.' That must
+mean something! Well, isn't there something, too, in the Bible about not
+giving to your rich neighbors that can give again, but giving to the poor
+that cannot recompense you? I don't know any poor people. Papa says there
+are very few deserving poor people. Well, for the matter of that, there
+aren't many _deserving rich_ people. I, for example, how much do I
+_deserve_ to have all these nice things? I'm no better than the poor
+shop-girls that go trudging by in the cold at six o'clock in the morning--
+ugh! it makes me shiver to think of it. I know if I had to do that _I_
+shouldn't be good at all. Well, I'd like to give to poor people, if I
+knew any."
+
+At this moment the door opened and the maid entered.
+
+"Betty, do you know any poor people I ought to get things for, this
+Christmas?"
+
+"Poor folks is always plenty, miss," said Betty.
+
+"O yes, of course, beggars; but I mean people that I could do something
+for besides just give cold victuals or money. I don't know where to hunt
+them up, and should be afraid to go if I did. O dear! it's no use. I'll
+give it up."
+
+"Why, Miss Florence, that 'ud be too bad, afther bein' that good in yer
+heart, to let the poor folks alone for fear of goin' to them. But ye
+needn't do that, for, now I think of it, there's John Morley's wife."
+
+"What, the gardener father turned off for drinking?"
+
+"The same, miss. Poor boy, he's not so bad, and he's got a wife and two
+as pretty children as ever you see."
+
+"I always liked John," said the young lady. "But papa is so strict about
+some things! He says he never will keep a man a day if he finds out that
+he drinks."
+
+She was quite silent for a minute, and then broke out:
+
+"I don't care; it's a good idea! I say, Betty, do you know where John's
+wife lives?"
+
+"Yes, miss, I've been there often."
+
+"Well, then, this afternoon I'll go with you and see if I can do anything
+for them."
+
+[Decoration]
+
+
+
+SCENE II.
+
+
+An attic room, neat and clean, but poorly furnished; a bed and a trundle-
+bed, a small cooking-stove, a shelf with a few dishes, one or two chairs
+and stools, a pale, thin woman working on a vest.
+
+Her face is anxious; her thin hands tremble with weakness, and now and
+then, as she works, quiet tears drop, which she wipes quickly. Poor
+people cannot afford to shed tears; it takes time and injures eyesight.
+
+This is John Morley's wife. This morning he has risen and gone out in a
+desperate mood. "No use to try," he says. "Didn't I go a whole year and
+never touch a drop? And now just because I fell once I'm kicked out! No
+use to try. When a fellow once trips, everybody gives him a kick. Talk
+about love of Christ! Who believes it? Don't see much love of Christ
+where I go. Your Christians hit a fellow that's down as hard as anybody.
+It's everybody for himself and devil take the hindmost. Well, I'll trudge
+up to the Brooklyn Navy Yard and see if they'll take me on there--if they
+won't I might as well go to sea, or to the devil," and out he flings.
+
+"Mamma!" says a little voice, "what are we going to have for our
+Christmas?"
+
+It is a little girl, with soft curly hair and bright, earnest eyes, that
+speaks.
+
+A sturdy little fellow of four presses up to the mother's knee and
+repeats the question, "Sha'n't we have a Christmas, mother?"
+
+It overcomes the poor woman; she leans forward and breaks into sobbing,--
+a tempest of sorrow, long suppressed, that shakes her weak frame as she
+thinks that her husband is out of work, desperate, discouraged, and
+tempted of the devil, that the rent is falling due, and only the poor pay
+of her needle to meet it with. In one of those quick flashes which
+concentrate through the imagination the sorrows of years, she seems to
+see her little home broken up, her husband in the gutter, her children
+turned into the street. At this moment there goes up from her heart a
+despairing cry, such as a poor, hunted, tired-out creature gives when
+brought to the last gasp of endurance. It was like the shriek of the hare
+when the hounds are upon it. She clasps her hands and cries out, "O my
+God, help me."
+
+There was no voice of any that answered; there was no sound of foot-fall
+on the staircase; no one entered the door; and yet that agonized cry had
+reached the heart it was meant for. The Shining Ones were with her; they
+stood, with faces full of tenderness, beaming down upon her; they brought
+her a Christmas gift from Christ--the gift of trust. She knew not from
+whence came the courage and rest that entered her soul; but while her
+little ones stood wondering and silent, she turned and drew to herself
+her well-worn Bible. Hands that she did not see guided her as she turned
+the pages, and pointed the words: _He shall deliver the needy when he
+crieth; the poor also and him that hath no helper. He shall spare the
+poor and needy, and shall save the souls of the needy. He shall redeem
+their soul from deceit and violence, and precious shall their blood be in
+his sight._
+
+She laid down her poor wan cheek on the merciful old book, as on her
+mother's breast, and gave up all the tangled skein of life into the hands
+of Infinite Pity. There seemed a consoling presence in the room, and her
+tired heart found rest.
+
+She wiped away her tears, kissed her children, and smiled upon them. Then
+she rose, gathered up her finished work, and attired herself to go forth
+and carry it back to the shop.
+
+"Mother," said the children softly, "they are dressing the church, and
+the gates are open, and people are going in and out; mayn't we play there
+by the church?"
+
+The mother looked out on the ivy-grown walls of the church, with its
+flocks of twittering sparrows, and said:
+
+"Yes, my little birds; you may play there if you'll be very good and
+quiet."
+
+The mother had only her small, close attic room for her darlings, and to
+satisfy all their childish desire for variety and motion, she had only
+the refuge of the streets. She was a decent, godly woman, and the bold
+manners and evil words of street vagrants were terrible to her; and so,
+when the church gates were open for daily morning and evening prayers,
+she had often begged the sexton to let her little ones come in and hear
+the singing, and wander hand in hand around the old church walls. He was
+a kindly old man, and the children, stealing round like two still,
+bright-eyed little mice, had gained upon his heart, and he made them
+welcome there. It gave the mother a feeling of protection to have them
+play near the church, as if it were a father's house.
+
+So she put on their little hoods and tippets, and led them forth, and saw
+them into the yard; and as she looked to the old gray church, with its
+rustling ivy bowers and flocks of birds, her heart swelled within her.
+"Yea, the sparrow hath found a house and the swallow a nest where she may
+lay her young, even thine altars, O Lord of hosts, my king and my God!"
+And the Shining Ones walking with her said, "Fear not; ye are of more
+value than many sparrows."
+
+[Decoration]
+
+
+
+SCENE III.
+
+
+The little ones went gayly into the yard. They had been scared by their
+mother's tears; but she had smiled again, and that had made all right
+with them. The sun was shining brightly, and they were on the sunny side
+of the old church, and they laughed and chirped and chittered to each
+other as merrily as the little birds in the ivy boughs.
+
+The old sexton came to the side door and threw out an armful of refuse
+greens, and then stopped a moment and nodded kindly at them.
+
+"May we play with them, please, sir?" said the little Elsie, looking up
+with great reverence.
+
+"Oh, yes, to be sure; these are done with--they are no good now."
+
+"Oh, Tottie!" cried Elsie, rapturously, "just think, he says we may play
+with all these. Why, here's ever and ever so much green, enough to play
+house. Let's play build a house for father and mother."
+
+"I'm going to build a big house for 'em when I grow up," said Tottie,
+"and I mean to have glass bead windows in it."
+
+Tottie had once had presented to him a box of colored glass beads to
+string, and he could think of nothing finer in the future than unlimited
+glass beads.
+
+Meanwhile, his sister began planting pine branches upright in the snow,
+to make her house.
+
+"You see we can make believe there are windows and doors and a roof," she
+said, "and it's just as good. Now, let's make believe there is a bed in
+this corner, and we will lie down to sleep."
+
+And Tottie obediently couched himself in the allotted corner and shut his
+eyes very hard, though after a moment he remarked that the snow got into
+his neck.
+
+"You must play it isn't snow--play it's feathers," said Elsie.
+
+"But I don't like it," persisted Tottie, "it don't feel a bit like
+feathers."
+
+"Oh, well, then," said Elsie, accommodating herself to circumstances,
+"let's play get up now and I'll get breakfast."
+
+Just now the door opened again, and the sexton began sweeping the refuse
+out of the church. There were bits of ivy and holly, and ruffles of
+ground-pine, and lots of bright red berries that came flying forth into
+the yard, and the children screamed for joy. "O Tottie!" "O Elsie!" "Only
+see how many pretty things--lots and lots!"
+
+The sexton stood and looked and laughed as he saw the little ones so
+eager for the scraps and remnants.
+
+"Don't you want to come in and see the church?" he said. "It's all done
+now, and a brave sight it is. You may come in."
+
+They tipped in softly, with large bright, wondering eyes. The light
+through the stained glass windows fell blue and crimson and yellow on the
+pillars all ruffled with ground-pine and brightened with scarlet bitter-
+sweet berries, and there were stars and crosses and mottoes in green all
+through the bowery aisles, while the organist, hid in a thicket of
+verdure, was practicing softly, and sweet voices sung:
+
+"Hark! the herald angels sing
+Glory to the new-born King."
+
+The little ones wandered up and down the long aisles in a dream of awe
+and wonder. "Hush, Tottie!" said Elsie when he broke into an eager
+exclamation, "don't make a noise. I do believe it's something like
+heaven," she said, under her breath.
+
+They made the course of the church and came round by the door again,
+where the sexton stood smiling on them.
+
+"You can find lots of pretty Christmas greens out there," he said,
+pointing to the door; "perhaps your folks would like to have some."
+
+"Oh, thank you, sir," exclaimed. Elsie, rapturously. "Oh, Tottie, only
+think! Let's gather a good lot and go home and dress our room for
+Christmas. Oh, _won't_ mother be astonished when she comes home, we'll
+make it so pretty!"
+
+And forthwith the children began gathering into their little aprons
+wreaths of ground-pine, sprigs of holly, and twigs of crimson bitter-
+sweet. The sexton, seeing their zeal, brought out to them a little cross,
+fancifully made of red alder-berries and pine.
+
+Then he said, "A lady took that down to put up a bigger one, and she gave
+it to me; you may have it if you want it."
+
+"Oh, how beautiful," said Elsie. "How glad I am to have this for mother!
+When she comes back she won't know our room; it will be as fine as the
+church."
+
+Soon the little gleaners were toddling off out of the yard--moving masses
+of green with all that their aprons and their little hands could carry.
+
+The sexton looked after them. "Take heed that ye despise not these little
+ones," he said to himself, "for in heaven their angels--"
+
+A ray of tenderness fell on the old man's head; it was from the Shining
+One who watched the children. He thought it was an afternoon sunbeam. His
+heart grew gentle and peaceful, and his thoughts went far back to a
+distant green grove where his own little one was sleeping. "Seems to me
+I've loved all little ones ever since," he said, thinking far back to the
+Christmas week when his lamb was laid to rest. "Well, she shall not
+return to me, but I shall go to her." The smile of the Shining One made a
+warm glow in his heart, which followed him all the way home.
+
+The children had a merry time dressing the room. They stuck good big
+bushes of pine in each window; they put a little ruffle of ground-pine
+round mother's Bible, and they fastened the beautiful red cross up over
+the table, and they stuck sprigs of pine or holly into every crack that
+could be made, by fair means or foul, to accept it, and they were
+immensely satisfied and delighted. Tottie insisted on hanging up his
+string of many-colored beads in the window to imitate the effect of the
+stained glass of the great church window.
+
+"It looks pretty when the light comes through," he remarked; and Elsie
+admitted that they might play they were painted windows, with some show
+of propriety. When everything had been stuck somewhere, Elsie swept the
+floor, and made up a fire, and put on the tea-kettle, to have everything
+ready to strike mother favorably on her return.
+
+[Decoration]
+
+
+
+SCENE IV.
+
+
+A freezing, bright, cold afternoon. "Cold as Christmas!" say cheery
+voices, as the crowds rush to and fro into shops and stores, and come out
+with hands full of presents.
+
+"Yes, cold as Christmas," says John Morley. "I should think so! Cold
+enough for a fellow that can't get in anywhere--that nobody wants and
+nobody helps! I should think so."
+
+John had been trudging all day from point to point, only to hear the old
+story: times were hard, work was dull, nobody wanted him, and he felt
+morose and surly--out of humor with himself and with everybody else.
+
+It is true that his misfortunes were from his own fault; but that
+consideration never makes a man a particle more patient or good-natured--
+indeed, it is an additional bitterness in his cup. John was an
+Englishman. When he first landed in New York from the old country, he had
+been wild and dissipated and given to drinking. But by his wife's earnest
+entreaties he had been persuaded to sign the temperance pledge, and had
+gone on prosperously keeping it for a year. He had a good place and good
+wages, and all went well with him till in an evil hour he met some of his
+former boon-companions, and was induced to have a social evening with
+them.
+
+In the first half hour of that evening were lost the fruits of the whole
+year's self-denial and self-control. He was not only drunk that night,
+but he went off for a fortnight, and was drunk night after night, and
+came back to find that his master had discharged him in indignation. John
+thinks this over bitterly, as he thuds about in the cold and calls
+himself a fool.
+
+Yet, if the truth must be confessed, John had not much "sense of sin," so
+called. He looked on himself as an unfortunate and rather ill-used man,
+for had he not tried very hard to be good, and gone a great while against
+the stream of evil inclination? and now, just for one yielding, he was
+pitched out of place, and everybody was turned against him! He thought
+this was hard measure. Didn't everybody hit wrong sometimes? Didn't rich
+fellows have their wine, and drink a little too much now and then? Yet
+nobody was down on _them_.
+
+"It's only because I'm poor," said John. "Poor folks' sins are never
+pardoned. There's my good wife--poor girl!" and John's heart felt as if
+it were breaking, for he was an affectionate creature, and loved his wife
+and babies, and in his deepest consciousness he knew that he was the one
+at fault. We have heard much about the sufferings of the wives and
+children of men who are overtaken with drink; but what is not so well
+understood is the sufferings of the men themselves in their sober
+moments, when they feel that they are becoming a curse to all that are
+dearest to them. John's very soul was wrung within him to think of the
+misery he had brought on his wife and children--the greater miseries that
+might be in store for them. He was faint of heart; he was tired; he had
+eaten nothing for hours, and on ahead he saw a drinking saloon. Why
+shouldn't he go and take one good drink, and then pitch off a ferry-boat
+into the East River, and so end the whole miserable muddle of life
+altogether?
+
+John's steps were turning that way, when one of the Shining Ones, who had
+watched him all day, came nearer and took his hand. He felt no touch; but
+at that moment there darted into his soul a thought of his mother, long
+dead, and he stopped irresolute, then turned to walk another way. The
+hand that was guiding him led him to turn a corner, and his curiosity was
+excited by a stream of people who seemed to be pressing into a building.
+A distant sound of singing was heard as he drew nearer, and soon he found
+himself passing with the multitude into a great prayer-meeting. The music
+grew more distinct as he went in. A man was singing in clear, penetrating
+tones:
+
+"What means this eager, anxious throng,
+Which moves with busy haste along;
+These wondrous gatherings day by day;
+What means this strange commotion, say?
+In accents hushed the throng reply,
+'Jesus of Nazareth passeth by!'"
+
+John had but a vague idea of religion, yet something in the singing
+affected him; and, weary and footsore and heartsore as he was, he sank
+into a seat and listened with absorbed attention:
+
+"Jesus! 'tis he who once below
+Man's pathway trod in toil and woe;
+And burdened ones where'er he came
+Brought out their sick and deaf and lame.
+The blind rejoiced to hear the cry,
+'Jesus of Nazareth passeth by!'
+
+"Ho, all ye heavy-laden, come!
+Here's pardon, comfort, rest, and home.
+Ye wanderers from a Father's face,
+Return, accept his proffered grace.
+Ye tempted ones, there's refuge nigh--
+'Jesus of Nazareth passeth by!'"
+
+A plain man, who spoke the language of plain working-men, now arose and
+read from his Bible the words which the angel of old spoke to the
+shepherds of Bethlehem:
+
+"_Fear not, for behold, I bring you tidings of great joy, which shall be
+to all people, for unto you is born this day a Saviour, which is Christ
+the Lord._"
+
+The man went on to speak of this with an intense practical earnestness
+that soon made John feel as if _he_, individually, were being talked to;
+and the purport of the speech was this: that God had sent to him, John
+Morley, a Saviour to save him from his sins, to lift him above his
+weakness, to help him overcome his bad habits; that His name was called
+Jesus, because he shall save his people _from their sins_. John listened
+with a strange new thrill. This was what he needed--a Friend, all-
+powerful, all-pitiful, who would undertake for him and help him to
+overcome himself--for he sorely felt how weak he was. Here was a Friend
+that could have compassion on the ignorant and them that were out of the
+way. The thought brought tears to his eyes and a glow of hope to his
+heart. What if He _would_ help him? for deep down in John's heart, worse
+than cold or hunger or weariness, was the dreadful conviction that he was
+a doomed man, that he should drink again as he had drunk, and never come
+to good, but fall lower and lower, and drag all who loved him down with
+him.
+
+And was this mighty Saviour given to him?
+
+"Yes," cried the man who was speaking; "to _you;_ to you, who have lost
+name and place; to you, that nobody cares for; to you, who have been down
+in the gutter. God has sent you a Saviour to take you up out of the mud
+and mire, to wash you clean, to give you strength to overcome your sins,
+and lead you home to his blessed kingdom. This is the glad tidings of
+great joy that the angels brought on the first Christmas day. Christ was
+_God's Christmas gift_ to a poor, lost world, and you may have him now,
+to-day. He may be your own Saviour--yours as much as if there were no
+other one on earth to be saved. He is looking for you to-day, coming
+after you, seeking you; he calls you by me. Oh, accept him now!"
+
+There was a deep breathing of suppressed emotion as the speaker sat down,
+a pause of solemn stillness.
+
+A faint strain of music was heard, and the singer began singing a
+pathetic ballad of a lost sheep and of the Shepherd going forth to seek
+it:
+
+"There were ninety and nine that safely lay
+ In the shelter of the fold,
+But one was out on the hills away,
+ Far off from the gates of gold--
+Away on the mountains wild and bare,
+Away from the tender Shepherd's care.
+
+"'Lord, Thou hast here Thy ninety and nine;
+ Are they not enough for Thee?'
+But the Shepherd made answer: ''Tis of mine
+ Has wandered away from me;
+And although the road be rough and steep
+I go to the desert to find my sheep.'"
+
+John heard with an absorbed interest. All around him were eager
+listeners, breathless, leaning forward with intense attention. The song
+went on:
+
+"But none of the ransomed ever knew
+ How deep were the waters crossed;
+Nor how dark was the night that the Lord went through
+ Ere He found His sheep that was lost.
+Out in the desert He heard its cry--
+Sick and helpless, and ready to die."
+
+There was a throbbing pathos in the intonation, and the verse floated
+over the weeping throng; when, after a pause, the strain was taken up
+triumphantly:
+
+"But all through the mountains thunder-riven,
+ And up from the rocky steep,
+There rose a cry to the gates of heaven,
+ 'Rejoice! I have found my sheep!'
+And the angels echoed around the throne,
+'Rejoice, for the Lord brings back His own!'"
+
+All day long, poor John had felt so lonesome! Nobody cared for him;
+nobody wanted him; everything was against him; and, worst of all, he had
+no faith in himself. But here was this Friend, _seeking_ him, following
+him through the cold alleys and crowded streets. In heaven they would be
+glad to hear that he had become a good man. The thought broke down all
+his pride, all his bitterness; he wept like a little child; and the
+Christmas gift of Christ--the sense of a real, present, loving, pitying
+Saviour--came into his very _soul_.
+
+He went homeward as one in a dream. He passed the drinking-saloon without
+a thought or wish of drinking. The expulsive force of a new emotion had
+for the time driven out all temptation. Raised above weakness, he thought
+only of this Jesus, this Saviour from sin, who he now believed had
+followed him and found him, and he longed to go home and tell his wife
+what great things the Lord had done for him.
+
+[Decoration]
+
+
+
+SCENE V.
+
+
+Meanwhile a little drama had been acting in John's humble home. His wife
+had been to the shop that day and come home with the pittance for her
+work in her hands.
+
+"I'll pay you full price to-day, but we can't pay such prices any
+longer," the man had said over the counter as he paid her. "Hard times--
+work dull--we are cutting down all our work-folks; you'll have to take a
+third less next time."
+
+"I'll do my best," she said meekly, as she took her bundle of work and
+turned wearily away, but the invisible arm of the Shining One was round
+her, and the words again thrilled through her that she had read that
+morning: "He shall redeem their soul from deceit and violence, and
+precious shall their blood be in his sight." She saw no earthly helper;
+she heard none and felt none, and yet her soul was sustained, and she
+came home in peace.
+
+When she opened the door of her little room she drew back astonished at
+the sight that presented itself. A brisk fire was roaring in the stove,
+and the tea-kettle was sputtering and sending out clouds of steam. A
+table with a white cloth on it was drawn out before the fire, and a new
+tea set of pure white cups and saucers, with teapot, sugar-bowl, and
+creamer, complete, gave a festive air to the whole. There were bread, and
+butter, and ham-sandwiches, and a Christmas cake all frosted, with little
+blue and red and green candles round it ready to be lighted, and a bunch
+of hot-house flowers in a pretty little vase in the centre.
+
+A new stuffed rocking-chair stood on one side of the stove, and there sat
+Miss Florence De Witt, our young princess of Scene First, holding little
+Elsie in her lap, while the broad, honest countenance of Betty was
+beaming with kindness down on the delighted face of Tottie. Both children
+were dressed from head to foot in complete new suits of clothes, and
+Elsie was holding with tender devotion a fine doll, while Tottie rejoiced
+in a horse and cart which he was maneuvering under Betty's
+superintendence.
+
+The little princess had pleased herself in getting up all this tableau.
+Doing good was a novelty to her, and she plunged into it with the zest of
+a new amusement. The amazed look of the poor woman, her dazed expressions
+of rapture and incredulous joy, the shrieks and cries of confused delight
+with which the little ones met their mother, delighted her more than any
+scene she had ever witnessed at the opera--with this added grace, unknown
+to her, that at this scene the invisible Shining Ones were pleased
+witnesses.
+
+She had been out with Betty, buying here and there whatever was wanted,--
+and what was _not_ wanted for those who had been living so long without
+work or money?
+
+She had their little coal-bin filled, and a nice pile of wood and
+kindlings put behind the stove. She had bought a nice rocking-chair for
+the mother to rest in. She had dressed the children from head to foot at
+a ready-made clothing store, and bought them toys to their hearts'
+desire, while Betty had set the table for a Christmas feast.
+
+And now she said to the poor woman at last:
+
+"I'm so sorry John lost his place at father's. He was so kind and
+obliging, and I always liked him; and I've been thinking, if you'd get
+him to sign the pledge over again from Christmas Eve, never to touch
+another drop, I'll get papa to take him back. I always do get papa to do
+what I want, and the fact is, he hasn't got anybody that suited him so
+well since John left. So you tell John that I mean to go surety for him;
+he certainly won't fail _me_. Tell him _I trust him_." And Miss Florence
+pulled out a paper wherein, in her best round hand, she had written out
+again the temperance pledge, and dated it "_Christmas Eve, 1875_."
+
+"Now, you come with John to-morrow morning, and bring this with his name
+to it, and you'll see what I'll do!" and, with a kiss to the children,
+the little good fairy departed, leaving the family to their Christmas
+Eve.
+
+What that Christmas Eve was, when the husband and father came home with
+the new and softened heart that had been given him, who can say? There
+were joyful tears and solemn prayers, and earnest vows and purposes of a
+new life heard by the Shining Ones in the room that night.
+
+"And the angels echoed around the throne,
+Rejoice! for the Lord brings back his own."
+
+
+
+SCENE VI.
+
+
+"Now, papa, I want you to give me something special to-day, because it's
+Christmas," said the little princess to her father, as she kissed and
+wished him "Merry Christmas" next morning.
+
+"What is it, Pussy--half of my kingdom?"
+
+"No, no, papa; not so much as that. It's a little bit of my own way that
+I want."
+
+"Of course; well, what is it?"
+
+"Well, I want you to take John back again."
+
+Her father's face grew hard.
+
+"Now, please, papa, don't say a word till you have heard me. John was a
+capital gardener; he kept the green-house looking beautiful; and this
+Mike that we've got now, he's nothing but an apprentice, and stupid as an
+owl at that! He'll never do in the world."
+
+"All that is very true," said Mr. De Witt, "but _John drinks_, and I
+_won't_ have a drinking man."
+
+"But, papa, _I_ mean to take care of that. I've written out the
+temperance pledge, and dated it, and got John to sign it, and _here it
+is_," and she handed the paper to her father, who read it carefully, and
+sat turning it in his hands while his daughter went on:
+
+"You ought to have seen how poor, how very poor they were. His wife is
+such a nice, quiet, hardworking woman, and has two such pretty children.
+I went to see them and carry them Christmas things yesterday, but it's no
+good doing anything if John can't get work. She told me how the poor
+fellow had been walking the streets in the cold, day after day, trying
+everywhere, and nobody would take him. It's a dreadful time now for a man
+to be out of work, and it isn't fair his poor wife and children should
+suffer. Do try him again, papa!"
+
+"John always did better with the pineapples than anybody we have tried,"
+said Mrs. De Witt at this point. "He is the only one who really
+understands pineapples."
+
+At this moment the door opened, and there was a sound of chirping voices
+in the hall. "Please, Miss Florence," said Betty, "the little folks says
+they wants to give you a Christmas." She added in a whisper: "They thinks
+much of giving you something, poor little things--plaze take it of 'em."
+And little Tottie at the word marched in and offered the young princess
+his dear, beautiful, beloved string of glass beads, and Elsie presented
+the cross of red berries--most dear to her heart and fair to her eyes.
+"We wanted to give _you something_" she said bashfully.
+
+"Oh, you lovely dears!" cried Florence; "how sweet of you! I shall keep
+these beautiful glass beads always, and put the cross up over my
+dressing-table. I thank you _ever_ so much!"
+
+"Are those John's children?" asked Mr. De Witt, winking a tear out of his
+eye--he was at bottom a soft-hearted old gentleman.
+
+"Yes, papa," said Florence, caressing Elsie's curly hair,--"see how sweet
+they are!"
+
+"Well--you may tell John I'll try him again." And so passed Florence's
+Christmas, with a new, warm sense of joy in her heart, a feeling of
+something in the world to be done, worth doing.
+
+"How much joy one can give with a little money!" she said to herself as
+she counted over what she had spent on her Christmas. Ah yes! and how
+true that "It _is_ more blessed to give than to receive." A shining,
+invisible hand was laid on her head in blessing as she lay down that
+night, and a sweet sense of a loving presence stole like music into her
+soul. Unknown to herself, she had that day taken the first step out of
+self-life into that life of love and care for others which brought the
+King of Glory down to share earth's toils and sorrows. And that precious
+experience was Christ's Christmas gift to her.
+
+[Decoration]
+
+
+
+
+
+DEACON PITKIN'S FARM.
+
+
+
+[Illustration: The Pitkin Homestead. ]
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I.
+
+
+MISS DIANA.
+
+Thanksgiving was impending in the village of Mapleton on the 20th of
+November, 1825.
+
+The Governor's proclamation had been duly and truly read from the pulpit
+the Sunday before, to the great consternation of Miss Briskett, the
+ambulatory dressmaker, who declared confidentially to Deacon Pitkin's
+wife that "she didn't see nothin' how she was goin' to get through
+things--and there was Saphiry's gown, and Miss Deacon Trowbridge's cloak,
+and Lizy Jane's new merino, not a stroke done on't. The Governor ought to
+be ashamed of himself for hurrying matters so."
+
+It was a very rash step for Miss Briskett to go to the length of such a
+remark about the Governor, but the deacon's wife was one of the few women
+who are nonconductors of indiscretion, and so the Governor never heard of
+it.
+
+This particular Thanksgiving tide was marked in Mapleton by exceptionally
+charming weather. Once in a great while the inclement New England skies
+are taken with a remorseful twinge and forget to give their usual snap of
+September frost which generally bites off all the pretty flowers in so
+heart-breaking a way, and then you can have lovely times quite down
+through November.
+
+It was so this year at Mapleton. Though the Thanksgiving proclamation had
+been read, and it was past the middle of November, yet marigolds and
+four-o'clocks were all ablaze in the gardens, and the golden rod and
+purple aster were blooming over the fields as if they were expecting to
+keep it up all winter.
+
+It really is affecting, the jolly good heart with which these bright
+children of the rainbow flaunt and wave and dance and go on budding and
+blossoming in the very teeth and snarl of oncoming winter. An autumn
+golden rod or aster ought to be the symbol for pluck and courage, and
+might serve a New England crest as the broom flower did the old
+Plantagenets.
+
+The trees round Mapleton were looking like gigantic tulip beds, and
+breaking every hour into new phantasmagoria of color; and the great elm
+that overshadowed the red Pitkin farm-house seemed like a dome of gold,
+and sent a yellow radiance through all the doors and windows as the
+dreamy autumn sunshine streamed through it.
+
+The Pitkin elm was noted among the great trees of New England. Now and
+then Nature asserts herself and does something so astonishing and
+overpowering as actually to strike through the crust of human stupidity,
+and convince mankind that a tree is something greater than they are. As a
+general thing the human race has a stupid hatred of trees. They embrace
+every chance to cut them down. They have no idea of their fitness for
+anything but firewood or fruit bearing. But a great cathedral elm, with
+shadowy aisles of boughs, its choir of whispering winds and chanting
+birds, its hush and solemnity and majestic grandeur, actually conquers
+the dull human race and asserts its leave to be in a manner to which all
+hearts respond; and so the great elms of New England have got to be
+regarded with a sort of pride as among her very few crown jewels, and the
+Pitkin elm was one of these.
+
+But wasn't it a busy time in Mapleton! Busy is no word for it. Oh, the
+choppings, the poundings, the stoning of raisins, the projections of pies
+and puddings, the killing of turkeys--who can utter it? The very chip
+squirrels in the stone-walls, who have a family custom of making a
+market-basket of their mouths, were rushing about with chops incredibly
+distended, and their tails had an extra whisk of thanksgiving alertness.
+A squirrel's Thanksgiving dinner is an affair of moment, mind you.
+
+In the great roomy, clean kitchen of the deacon's house might be seen the
+lithe, comely form of Diana Pitkin presiding over the roaring great oven
+which was to engulf the armies of pies and cakes which were in due course
+of preparation on the ample tables.
+
+Of course you want to know who Diana Pitkin was. It was a general fact
+about this young lady that anybody who gave one look at her, whether at
+church or at home, always inquired at once with effusion, "Who is she?"--
+particularly if the inquirer was one of the masculine gender.
+
+This was to be accounted for by the fact that Miss Diana presented to the
+first view of the gazer a dazzling combination of pink and white, a
+flashing pair of black eyes, a ripple of dimples about the prettiest
+little rosy mouth in the world, and a frequent somewhat saucy laugh,
+which showed a set of teeth like pearls. Add to this a quick wit, a
+generous though spicy temper, and a nimble tongue, and you will not
+wonder that Miss Diana was a marked character at Mapleton, and that the
+inquiry who she was was one of the most interesting facts of statistical
+information.
+
+Well, she was Deacon Pitkin's second cousin, and of course just in that
+convenient relationship to the Pitkin boys which has all the advantages
+of cousinship and none of the disadvantages as may be plain to an
+ordinary observer. For if Miss Diana wished to ride or row or dance with
+any of the Pitkin boys, why shouldn't she? Were they not her cousins? But
+if any of these aforenamed young fellows advanced on the strength of
+these intimacies a presumptive claim to nearer relationship, why, then
+Diana was astonished--of course she had regarded them as her cousins! and
+she was sure she couldn't think what they could be dreaming of--"A cousin
+is just like a brother, you know."
+
+This was just what James Pitkin did not believe in, and now as he is
+walking over hill and dale from Cambridge College to his father's house
+he is gathering up a decided resolution to tell Diana that he is not and
+will not be to her as a brother--that she must be to him all or nothing.
+James is the brightest, the tallest, and, the Mapleton girls said, the
+handsomest of the Pitkin boys. He is a strong-hearted, generous, resolute
+fellow as ever undertook to walk thirty-five miles home to eat his
+Thanksgiving dinner.
+
+[Illustration: Diana.]
+
+We are not sure that Miss Diana is not thinking of him quite as much as
+he of her, as she stands there with the long kitchen shovel in one hand,
+and one plump white arm thrust into the oven, and her little head cocked
+on one side, her brows bent, and her rosy mouth pursed up with a solemn
+sense of the importance of her judgment as she is testing the heat of her
+oven.
+
+Oh, Di, Di! for all you seem to have nothing on your mind but the
+responsibility for all those pumpkin pies and cranberry tarts, we
+wouldn't venture a very large wager that you are not thinking about
+cousin James under it all at this very minute, and that all this pretty
+bustling housewifeliness owes its spice and flavor to the thought that
+James is coming to the Thanksgiving dinner.
+
+To be sure if any one had told Di so, she would have flouted the very
+idea. Besides, she had privately informed Almira Sisson, her special
+particular confidante, that she knew Jim would come home from college
+full of conceit, and thinking that everybody must bow down to him, and
+for her part she meant to make him know his place. Of course Jim and she
+were good friends, etc., etc.
+
+Oh, Di, Di! you silly, naughty girl, was it for this that you stood so
+long at your looking-glass last night, arranging how you would do your
+hair for the Thanksgiving night dance? Those killing bows which you
+deliberately fabricated and lodged like bright butterflies among the dark
+waves of your hair--who were you thinking of as you made and posed them?
+Lay your hand on your heart and say who to you has ever seemed the best,
+the truest, the bravest and kindest of your friends. But Di doesn't
+trouble herself with such thoughts--she only cuts out saucy mottoes from
+the flaky white paste to lay on the red cranberry tarts, of which she
+makes a special one for each cousin. For there is Bill, the second
+eldest, who stays at home and helps work the farm. She knows that Bill
+worships her very shoe-tie, and obeys all her mandates with the faithful
+docility of a good Newfoundland dog, and Di says "she thinks everything
+of Bill--she likes Bill." So she does Ed, who comes a year or two behind
+Bill, and is trembling out of bashful boyhood. So she does Rob and Ike
+and Pete and the whole healthy, ramping train who fill the Pitkin farm-
+house with a racket of boots and boys. So she has made every one a tart
+with his initial on it and a saucy motto or two, "just to keep them from
+being conceited, you know."
+
+All day she keeps busy by the side of the deacon's wife--a delicate,
+thin, quiet little woman, with great thoughtful eyes and a step like a
+snowflake. New England had of old times, and has still, perhaps, in her
+farm-houses, these women who seem from year to year to develop in the
+spiritual sphere as the bodily form shrinks and fades. While the cheek
+grows thin and the form spare, the will-power grows daily stronger;
+though the outer man perish, the inner man is renewed day by day. The
+worn hand that seems so weak yet holds every thread and controls every
+movement of the most complex family life, and wonders are daily
+accomplished by the presence of a woman who seems little more than a
+spirit. The New England wife-mother was the one little jeweled pivot on
+which all the wheel work of the family moved.
+
+"Well, haven't we done a good day's work, cousin?" says Diana, when
+ninety pies of every ilk--quince, apple, cranberry, pumpkin, and mince--
+have been all safely delivered from the oven and carried up into the
+great vacant chamber, where, ranged in rows and frozen solid, they are to
+last over New Year's day! She adds, demonstratively clasping the little
+woman round the neck and leaning her bright cheek against her whitening
+hair, "Haven't we been smart?" And the calm, thoughtful eyes turn
+lovingly upon her as Mary Pitkin puts her arm round her and answers:
+
+"Yes, my daughter, you have done wonderfully. We couldn't do without
+you!"
+
+And Diana lifts her head and laughs. She likes petting and praising as a
+cat likes being stroked; but, for all that, the little puss has her claws
+and a sly notion of using them.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II.
+
+
+BIAH CARTER.
+
+It was in the flush and glow of a gorgeous sunset that you might have
+seen the dark form of the Pitkin farm-house rising on a green hill
+against the orange sky.
+
+The red house, with its overhanging canopy of elm, stood out like an old
+missal picture done on a gold ground.
+
+Through the glimmer of the yellow twilight might be seen the stacks of
+dry corn-stalks and heaps of golden pumpkins in the neighboring fields,
+from which the slow oxen were bringing home a cart well laden with farm
+produce.
+
+It was the hour before supper time, and Biah Carter, the deacon's hired
+man, was leaning against a fence, waiting for his evening meal; indulging
+the while in a stream of conversational wisdom which seemed to flow all
+the more freely from having been dammed up through the labors of the day.
+
+[Illustration: Biah]
+
+Biah was, in those far distant times of simplicity a "mute inglorious"
+newspaper man. Newspapers in those days were as rare and unheard of as
+steam cars or the telegraph, but Biah had within him all the making of a
+thriving modern reporter, and no paper to use it on. He was a walking
+biographical and statistical dictionary of all the affairs of the good
+folks of Mapleton. He knew every piece of furniture in their houses, and
+what they gave for it; every foot of land, and what it was worth; every
+ox, ass and sheep; every man, woman and child in town. And Biah could
+give pretty shrewd character pictures also, and whoever wanted to inform
+himself of the status of any person or thing in Mapleton would have done
+well to have turned the faucet of Biah's stream of talk, and watched it
+respectfully as it came, for it was commonly conceded that what Biah
+Carter didn't know about Mapleton was hardly worth knowing.
+
+"Putty piece o' property, this 'ere farm," he said, surveying the scene
+around him with the air of a connoisseur. "None o' yer stun pastur land
+where the sheep can't get their noses down through the rocks without a
+file to sharpen 'em! Deacon Pitkin did a putty fair stroke o' business
+when he swapped off his old place for this 'ere. That are old place was
+all swamp land and stun pastur; wa'n't good for raisin' nothin' but
+juniper bushes and bull frogs. But I tell _yeu_" preceded Biah, with a
+shrewd wink, "that are mortgage pinches the deacon; works him like a dose
+of aloes and picry, it does. Deacon fairly gets lean on't."
+
+"Why," said Abner Jenks, a stolid plow boy to whom this stream of remark
+was addressed; "this 'ere place ain't mortgaged, is it? Du tell, naow!"
+
+"Why, yis; don't ye know that are? Why there's risin' two thousand
+dollars due on this 'ere farm, and if the deacon don't scratch for it and
+pay up squar to the minit, old Squire Norcross'll foreclose on him. Old
+squire hain't no bowels, I tell yeu, and the deacon knows he hain't: and
+I tell you it keeps the deacon dancin' lively as corn on a hot shovel."
+
+"The deacon's a master hand to work," said Abner; "so's the boys."
+
+"Wai, yis, the deacon is," said Biah, turning contemplatively to the
+farmhouse; "there ain't a crittur in that are house that there ain't the
+most work got out of 'em that ken be, down to Jed and Sam, the little
+uns. They work like tigers, every soul of 'em, from four o'clock in she
+morning' as long as they can see, and Mis' Pitkin she works all the
+evening--woman's work ain't never done, they say."
+
+"She's a good woman, Mis' Pitkin is," said Abner, "and she's a smart
+worker."
+
+In this phrase Abner solemnly expressed his highest ideal of a human
+being.
+
+"Smart ain't no word for 't," said Biah, with alertness. "Declar for 't,
+the grit o' that are woman beats me. Had eight children right along in a
+string 'thout stoppin', done all her own work, never kep' no gal nor
+nothin'; allers up and dressed; allers to meetin' Sunday, and to the
+prayer-meetin' weekly, and never stops workin': when 'tan't one thing
+it's another--cookin', washin', ironin', making butter and cheese, and
+'tween spells cuttin' and sewin', and if she ain't doin' that, why, she's
+braidin' straw to sell to the store or knitting--she's the perpetual
+motion ready found, Mis' Pitkin is."
+
+"Want ter know," said the auditor, as a sort of musical rest in this
+monotone of talk. "Ain't she smart, though!"
+
+"Smart! Well, I should think she was. She's over and into everything
+that's goin' on in that house. The deacon wouldn't know himself without
+her; nor wouldn't none of them boys, they just live out of her; she kind
+o' keeps 'em all up."
+
+"Wal, she ain't a hefty woman, naow," said the interlocutor, who seemed
+to be possessed by a dim idea that worth must be weighed by the pound.
+
+"Law bless you, no! She's a little crittur; nothin' to look to, but every
+bit in her is _live_. She looks pale, kind o' slips round still like
+moonshine, but where anything's to be done, there Mis' Pitkin is; and her
+hand allers goes to the right spot, and things is done afore ye know it.
+That are woman's kind o' still; she'll slip off and be gone to heaven
+some day afore folks know it. There comes the deacon and Jim over the
+hill. Jim walked home from college day 'fore yesterday, and turned right
+in to-day to help get in the taters, workin' right along. Deacon was
+awful grouty."
+
+"What was the matter o' the deacon?"
+
+"Oh, the mortgage kind o' works him. The time to pay comes round putty
+soon, and the deacon's face allers goes down long as yer arm. 'Tis a
+putty tight pull havin' Jim in college, losin' his work and havin' term
+bills and things to pay. Them are college folks charges _up_, I tell you.
+I seen it works the deacon, I heard him a-jawin' Jim 'bout it."
+
+"What made Jim go to college?" said Abner with slow wonder in his heavy
+face.
+
+"Oh, he allers was sot on eddication, and Mis' Pitkin she's sot on't,
+too, in her softly way, and softly women is them that giner'lly carries
+their p'ints, fust or last.
+
+"But _there's_ one that _ain't_ softly!" Biah suddenly continued, as the
+vision of a black-haired, bright-eyed girl suddenly stepped forth from
+the doorway, and stood shading her face with her hands, looking towards
+the sunset. The evening light lit up a jaunty spray of golden rod that
+she had wreathed in her wavy hair, and gave a glow to the rounded
+outlines of her handsome form. "There's a sparkler for you! And no saint,
+neither!" was Biah's comment. "That crittur has got more prances and
+capers in her than any three-year-old filly I knows on. He'll be cunning
+that ever gets a bridle on her."
+
+"Some says she's going to hev Jim Pitkin, and some says it's Bill," said
+Abner, delighted to be able to add his mite of gossip to the stream while
+it was flowing.
+
+"She's sweet on Jim while he's round, and she's sweet on Bill when Jim's
+up to college, and between um she gets took round to everything that
+going. She gives one a word over one shoulder, and one over t'other, and
+if the Lord above knows what's in that gal's mind or what she's up to, he
+knows more than I do, or she either, else I lose my bet."
+
+Biah made this admission with a firmness that might have been a model to
+theologians or philosophers in general. There was a point, it appeared,
+where he was not omniscient. His universal statistical knowledge had a
+limit.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III.
+
+
+THE SHADOW.
+
+There is no moment of life, however festive, that does not involve the
+near presence of a possible tragedy. When the concert of life is playing
+the gayest and airiest music, it requires only the change of a little
+flat or sharp to modulate into the minor key.
+
+There seemed at first glance only the elements of joyousness and gayety
+in the surroundings at the Pitkin farm. Thanksgiving was come--the
+family, healthy, rosy, and noisy, were all under the one roof-tree. There
+was energy, youth, intelligence, beauty, a pair of lovers on the eve of
+betrothal--just in that misty, golden twilight that precedes the full
+sunrise of avowed and accepted love--and yet behind it all was walking
+with stealthy step the shadow of a coming sorrow.
+
+"What in the world ails James?" said Diana as she retreated from the door
+and surveyed him at a distance from her chamber window. His face was like
+a landscape over which a thunder-cloud has drifted, and he walked beside
+his father with a peculiar air of proud displeasure and repression.
+
+At that moment the young man was struggling with the bitterest sorrow
+that can befall youth--the breaking up of his life-purpose. He had just
+come to a decision to sacrifice his hopes of education, his man's
+ambition, his love, his home and family, and become a wanderer on the
+face of the earth. How this befell requires a sketch of character.
+
+Deacon Silas Pitkin was a fair specimen of a class of men not uncommon in
+New England--men too sensitive for the severe physical conditions of New
+England life, and therefore both suffering and inflicting suffering. He
+was a man of the finest moral traits, of incorruptible probity, of
+scrupulous honor, of an exacting conscientiousness, and of a sincere
+piety. But he had begun life with nothing; his whole standing in the
+world had been gained inch by inch by the most unremitting economy and
+self-denial, and he was a man of little capacity for hope, of whom it was
+said, in popular phraseology, that he "took things hard." He was never
+sanguine of good, always expectant of evil, and seemed to view life like
+a sentinel forbidden to sleep and constantly under arms.
+
+For such a man to be harassed by a mortgage upon his homestead was a
+steady wear and drain upon his vitality. There were times when a positive
+horror of darkness came down upon him--when his wife's untroubled,
+patient hopefulness seemed to him like recklessness, when the smallest
+item of expense was an intolerable burden, and the very daily bread of
+life was full of bitterness; and when these paroxysms were upon him, one
+of the heaviest of his burdens was the support of his son in college. It
+was true that he was proud of his son's talents and sympathized with his
+love for learning--he had to the full that sense of the value of
+education which is the very vital force of the New England mind--and in
+an hour when things looked brighter to him he had given his consent to
+the scheme of a college education freely.
+
+James was industrious, frugal, energetic, and had engaged to pay the most
+of his own expenses by teaching in the long winter vacations. But
+unfortunately this year the Mapleton Academy, which had been promised to
+him for the winter term, had been taken away by a little maneuver of
+local politics and given to another, thus leaving him without resource.
+This disappointment, coming just at the time when the yearly interest
+upon the mortgage was due, had brought upon his father one of those
+paroxysms of helpless gloom and discouragement in which the very world
+itself seemed clothed in sack-cloth.
+
+From the time that he heard the Academy was gone, Deacon Silas lay awake
+nights in the blackness of darkness. "We shall all go to the poorhouse
+together--that's where it will end," he said, as he tossed restlessly in
+the dark.
+
+"Oh no, no, my dear," said his wife, with those serene eyes that had
+looked through so many gloomy hours; "we must cast our care on God."
+
+"It's easy for women to talk. You don't have the interest money to pay,
+you are perfectly reckless of expense. Nothing would do but James must go
+to college, and now see what it's bringing us to!"
+
+"Why, father, I thought you yourself were in favor of it."
+
+"Well, I did wrong then. You persuaded me into it. I'd no business to
+have listened to you and Jim and got all this load on my shoulders."
+
+Yet Mary Pitkin knew in her own calm, clear head that she had not been
+reckless of expense. The yearly interest money was ever before her, and
+her own incessant toils had wrought no small portion of what was needed
+to pay it. Her butter at the store commanded the very highest price, her
+straw braiding sold for a little more than that of any other hand, and
+she had calculated all the returns so exactly that she felt sure that the
+interest money for that year was safe. She had seen her husband pass
+through this nervous crisis many times before, and she had learned to be
+blamed in silence, for she was a woman out of whom all selfness had long
+since died, leaving only the tender pity of the nurse and the consoler.
+Her soul rested on her Saviour, the one ever-present, inseparable friend;
+and when it did no good to speak to her husband, she spoke to her God for
+him, and so was peaceful and peace-giving.
+
+Even her husband himself felt her strengthening, rest-giving power, and
+for this reason he bore down on her with the burden of all his tremors and
+his cares; for while he disputed, he yet believed her, and rested upon
+her with an utter helpless trust, as the good angel of his house. Had
+_she_ for a moment given way to apprehension, had _her_ step been a
+thought less firm, her eye less peaceful, then indeed the world itself
+would have seemed to be sinking under his feet. Meanwhile she was to him
+that kind of relief which we derive from a person to whom we may say
+everything without a fear of its harming them. He felt quite sure that,
+say what he would, Mary would always be hopeful and courageous; and he
+felt some secret idea that his own gloomy forebodings were of service in
+restricting and sobering what seemed to him her too sanguine nature. He
+blindly reverenced, without ability fully to comprehend, her exalted
+religious fervor and the quietude of soul that it brought. But he did not
+know through how many silent conflicts, how many prayers, how many tears,
+how many hopes resigned and sorrows welcomed, she had come into that last
+refuge of sorrowful souls, that immovable peace when all life's anguish
+ceases and the will of God becomes the final rest.
+
+But, unhappily for this present crisis, there was, as there often is in
+family life, just enough of the father's nature in the son to bring them
+into collision with each other. James had the same nervously anxious
+nature, the same intense feeling of responsibility, the same tendency
+towards morbid earnestness; and on that day there had come collision.
+
+His father had poured forth upon him his fears and apprehensions in a
+manner which implied a censure on his son, as being willing to accept a
+life of scholarly ease while his father and mother were, as he expressed
+it, "working their lives away."
+
+"But I tell you, father, as God is my witness, I _mean_ to pay all; you
+shall not suffer; interest and principal--all that my work would bring--I
+engage to pay back."
+
+"You!--you'll never have anything! You'll be a poor man as long as you
+live. Lost the Academy this Fall--that tells the story!"
+
+"But, father, it wasn't my fault that I lost the Academy."
+
+"It's no matter whose fault it was--that's neither here nor there--you
+lost it, and here you are with the vacation before you and nothing to do!
+There's your mother, she's working herself to death; she never gets any
+rest. I expect she'll go off in a consumption one of these days."
+
+"There, there, father! that's enough! Please don't say any more. You'll
+see I _will_ find something to do!"
+
+There are words spoken at times in life that do not sound bitter though
+they come from a pitiable depth of anguish, and as James turned from his
+father he had taken a resolution that convulsed him with pain; his strong
+arms quivered with the repressed agony, and he hastily sought a distant
+part of the field, and began cutting and stacking corn-stalks with a
+nervous energy.
+
+"Why, ye work like thunder!" was Biah's comment. "Book l'arnin' hain't
+spiled ye yet; your arms are good for suthin'."
+
+"Yes, my arms are good for something, and I'll use them for something,"
+said Jim.
+
+There was raging a tempest in his soul. For a young fellow of a Puritan
+education in those days to be angry with his father was somewhat that
+seemed to him as awful a sacrilege as to be angry with his God, and yet
+he felt that his father had been bitterly, cruelly unjust towards him. He
+had driven economy to the most stringent extremes; he had avoided the
+intimacy of his class fellows, lest he should be drawn into needless
+expenses; he had borne with shabby clothing and mean fare among better
+dressed and richer associates, and been willing to bear it. He had
+studied faithfully, unremittingly, for two years, but at the moment he
+turned from his father the throb that wrung his heart was the giving up
+of all. He had in his pocket a letter from his townsman and schoolmate,
+Sam Allen, mate of an East Indiaman just fitting out at Salem, and it
+said:
+
+"We are going to sail with a picked crew, and we want one just such a
+fellow as you for third mate. Come along, and you can go right up, and
+your college mathematics will be all the better for us. Come right off,
+and your berth will be ready, and away for round the world!"
+
+Here, to be sure, was immediate position--wages--employment--freedom from
+the intolerable burden of dependence; but it was accepted at the
+sacrifice of all his life's hopes. True, that in those days the
+experiment of a sea-faring life had often, even in instances which he
+recalled, brought forth fortune and an ability to settle down in peaceful
+competence in after life. But there was Diana. Would she wait for him?
+Encircled on all sides with lovers, would she keep faith with an
+adventurer gone for an indefinite quest? The desponding, self-distrusting
+side of his nature said, "No. Why should she?" Then, to go was to give
+up Diana--to make up his mind to have her belong to some other. Then
+there was his mother. An unutterable reverential pathos always to him
+encircled the idea of his mother. Her life to him seemed a hard one. From
+the outside, as he viewed it, it was all self-sacrifice and renunciation.
+Yet he knew that she had set her heart on an education for him, as much
+as it could be set on anything earthly. He was her pride, her hope; and
+just now that very thought was full of bitterness. There was no help for
+it; he must not let her work herself to death for him; he would make the
+household vessel lighter by the throwing himself into the sea, to sink or
+swim as might happen; and then, perhaps, he might come back with money to
+help them all.
+
+All this was what was surging and boiling in his mind when he came in
+from his work to the supper that night.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV.
+
+
+THE GOOD-BY.
+
+Diana Pitkin was like some of the fruits of her native hills, full of
+juices which tend to sweetness in maturity, but which when not quite ripe
+have a pretty decided dash of sharpness. There are grapes that require a
+frost to ripen them, and Diana was somewhat akin to these.
+
+She was a mettlesome, warm-blooded creature, full of the energy and
+audacity of youth, to whom as yet life was only a frolic and a play
+spell. Work never tired her. She ate heartily, slept peacefully, went to
+bed laughing, and got up in a merry humor in the morning. Diana's laugh
+was as early a note as the song of birds. Such a nature is not at first
+sympathetic. It has in it some of the unconscious cruelty which belongs
+to nature itself, whose sunshine never pales at human trouble. Eyes that
+have never wept cannot comprehend sorrow. Moreover, a lively girl of
+eighteen, looking at life out of eyes which bewilder others with their
+brightness, does not always see the world truly, and is sometimes judged
+to be heartless when she is only immature.
+
+Nothing was further from Diana's thoughts than that any grave trouble was
+overhanging her lover's mind--for her lover she very well knew that James
+was, and she had arranged beforehand to herself very pretty little
+comedies of life, to be duly enacted in the long vacation, in which James
+was to appear as the suitor, and she, not too soon nor with too much
+eagerness, was at last to acknowledge to him how much he was to her. But
+meanwhile he was not to be too presumptuous. It was not set down in the
+cards that she should be too gracious or make his way too easy. When,
+therefore, he brushed by her hastily, on entering the house, with a
+flushed cheek and frowning brow, and gave no glance of admiration at the
+pretty toilet she had found time to make, she was slightly indignant. She
+was as ignorant of the pang which went like an arrow through his heart at
+the sight of her as the bobolink which whirrs and chitters and tweedles
+over a grave.
+
+She turned away and commenced a kitten-like frolic with Bill, who was
+always only too happy to second any of her motions, and readily promised
+that after supper she would go with him a walk of half a mile over to a
+neighbor's, where was a corn-husking. A great golden lamp of a harvest
+moon was already coming up in the fading flush of the evening sky, and
+she promised herself much amusement in watching the result of her
+maneuver on James.
+
+"He'll see at any rate that I am not waiting his beck and call. Next
+time, if he wants my company he can ask for it in season. I'm not going
+to indulge him in sulks, not I. These college fellows worry over books
+till they hurt their digestion, and then have the blues and look as if
+the world was coming to an end." And Diana went to the looking-glass and
+rearranged the spray of golden-rod in her hair and nodded at herself
+defiantly, and then turned to help get on the supper.
+
+The Pitkin folk that night sat down to an ample feast, over which the
+impending Thanksgiving shed its hilarity. There was not only the
+inevitable great pewter platter, scoured to silver brightness, in the
+center of the table, and piled with solid masses of boiled beef, pork,
+cabbage and all sorts of vegetables, and the equally inevitable smoking
+loaf of rye and Indian bread, to accompany the pot of baked pork and
+beans, but there were specimens of all the newly-made Thanksgiving pies
+filling every available space on the table. Diana set special value on
+herself as a pie artist, and she had taxed her ingenuity this year to
+invent new varieties, which were received with bursts of applause by the
+boys. These sat down to the table in democratic equality,--Biah Carter
+and Abner with all the sons of the family, old and young, each eager,
+hungry and noisy; and over all, with moonlight calmness and steadiness,
+Mary Pitkin ruled and presided, dispensing to each his portion in due
+season, while Diana, restless and mischievous as a sprite, seemed to be
+possessed with an elfin spirit of drollery, venting itself in sundry
+little tricks and antics which drew ready laughs from the boys and
+reproving glances from the deacon. For the deacon was that night in one
+of his severest humors. As Biah Carter afterwards remarked of that night,
+"You could feel there was thunder in the air somewhere round. The deacon
+had got on about his longest face, and when the deacon's face is about
+down to its wust, why, it would stop a robin singin'--there couldn't
+nothin' stan' it."
+
+To-night the severely cut lines of his face had even more than usual of
+haggard sternness, and the handsome features of James beside him, in
+their fixed gravity, presented that singular likeness which often comes
+out between father and son in seasons of mental emotion. Diana in vain
+sought to draw a laugh from her cousin. In pouring his home-brewed beer
+she contrived to spatter him, but he wiped it off without a smile, and
+let pass in silence some arrows of raillery that she had directed at his
+somber face.
+
+When they rose from table, however, he followed her into the pantry.
+
+"Diana, will you take a walk with me to-night?" he said, in a voice husky
+with repressed feeling.
+
+"To-night! Why, I have just promised Bill to go with him over to the
+husking at the Jenks's. Why don't you go with us? We're going to have
+lots of fun," she added with an innocent air of not perceiving his
+gravity.
+
+"I can't," he said. "Besides I wanted to walk with you alone. I had
+something special I wanted to say."
+
+"Bless me, how you frighten one! You look solemn as a hearse; but I
+promised to go with Bill to-night, and I suspect another time will do
+just as well. What you have to say will _keep_, I suppose," she said
+mischievously.
+
+He turned away quickly.
+
+"I should really like to know what's the matter with you to-night," she
+added, but as she spoke he went up-stairs and shut the door.
+
+"He's cross to-night," was Diana's comment. "Well, he'll have to get over
+his pet. I sha'n't mind it!"
+
+Up-stairs in his room James began the work of putting up the bundle with
+which he was to go forth to seek his fortune. There stood his books,
+silent and dear witnesses of the world of hope and culture and refined
+enjoyment he had been meaning to enter. He was to know them no more.
+Their mute faces seemed to look at him mournfully as parting friends. He
+rapidly made his selection, for that night he was to be off in time to
+reach the vessel before she sailed, and he felt even glad to avoid the
+Thanksgiving festivities for which he had so little relish. Diana's
+frolicsome gaiety seemed heart-breaking to him, on the same principle
+that the poet sings:
+
+"How can ye chant, ye little birds,
+And I sae weary, fu' o' care?"
+
+To the heart struck through with its first experiences of real suffering
+all nature is full of cruelty, and the young and light-hearted are a
+large part of nature.
+
+"She has no feeling," he said to himself. "Well, there is one reason the
+more for my going. _She_ won't break her heart for me; nobody loves me
+but mother, and it's for her sake I must go. She mustn't work herself to
+death for me."
+
+And then he sat down in the window to write a note to be given to his
+mother after he had sailed, for he could not trust himself to tell her
+what he was about to do. He knew that she would try to persuade him to
+stay, and he felt faint-hearted when he thought of her. "She would sit
+up early and late, and work for me to the last gasp," he thought, "but
+father was right. It is selfish of me to take it," and so he sat trying
+to fashion his parting note into a tone of cheerfulness.
+
+"My dear mother," he wrote, "this will come to you when I have set off on
+a four years' voyage round the world. Father has convinced me that it's
+time for me to be doing something for myself; and I couldn't get a school
+to keep--and, after all, education is got other ways than at college.
+It's hard to go, because I love home, and hard because you will miss me--
+though no one else will. But father may rely upon it, I will not be a
+burden on him another day. Sink or swim, I shall _never_ come back till I
+have enough to do for myself, and you too. So good bye, dear mother. I
+know you will always pray for me, and wherever I am I shall try to do
+just as I think you would want me to do. I know your prayers will follow
+me, and I shall always be your affectionate son.
+
+"P.S.--The boys may have those chestnuts and walnuts in my room--and in
+my drawer there is a bit of ribbon with a locket on it I was going to
+give cousin Diana. Perhaps she won't care for it, though; but if she
+does, she is welcome to it--it may put her in mind of old times."'
+
+And this is all he said, with bitterness in his heart, as he leaned on
+the window and looked out at the great yellow moon that was shining so
+bright as to show the golden hues of the overhanging elm boughs and the
+scarlet of an adjoining maple.
+
+A light ripple of laughter came up from below, and a chestnut thrown up
+struck him on the hand, and he saw Diana and Bill step from out the
+shadowy porch.
+
+"There's a chestnut for you, Mr. Owl," she called, gaily, "if you _will_
+stay moping up there! Come, now, it's a splendid evening; _won't_ you
+come?"
+
+"No, thank you. I sha'n't be missed," was the reply.
+
+"That's true enough; the loss is your own. Good bye, Mr. Philosopher."
+
+"Good bye, Diana."
+
+Something in the tone struck strangely through her heart. It was the
+voice of what Diana never had felt yet--deep suffering--and she gave a
+little shiver.
+
+"What an _awfully_ solemn voice James has sometimes," she said; and then
+added, with a laugh, "it would make his fortune as a Methodist minister."
+
+The sound of the light laugh and little snatches and echoes of gay talk
+came back like heartless elves to mock Jim's sorrow.
+
+"So much for _her_," he said, and turned to go and look for his mother.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V.
+
+
+MOTHER AND SON.
+
+He knew where he should find her. There was a little, low work-room
+adjoining the kitchen that was his mother's sanctum. There stood her
+work-basket--there were always piles and piles of work, begun or
+finished; and there also her few books at hand, to be glanced into in
+rare snatches of leisure in her busy life.
+
+The old times New England house mother was not a mere unreflective drudge
+of domestic toil. She was a reader and a thinker, keenly appreciative in
+intellectual regions. The literature of that day in New England was
+sparse; but whatever there was, whether in this country or in England,
+that was noteworthy, was matter of keen interest, and Mrs. Pitkin's small
+library was very dear to her. No nun in a convent under vows of
+abstinence ever practiced more rigorous self-denial than she did in the
+restraints and government of intellectual tastes and desires. Her son was
+dear to her as the fulfillment and expression of her unsatisfied craving
+for knowledge, the possessor of those fair fields of thought which duty
+forbade her to explore.
+
+James stood and looked in at the window, and saw her sorting and
+arranging the family mending, busy over piles of stockings and shirts,
+while on the table beside her lay her open Bible, and she was singing to
+herself, in a low, sweet undertone, one of the favorite minor-keyed
+melodies of those days:
+
+"O God, our help in ages past,
+ Our hope for years to come,
+Our shelter from the stormy blast
+ And our eternal home!"
+
+An indescribable feeling, blended of pity and reverence, swelled in his
+heart as he looked at her and marked the whitening hair, the thin worn
+little hands so busy with their love work, and thought of all the bearing
+and forbearing, the waiting, the watching, the long-suffering that had
+made up her life for so many years. The very look of exquisite calm and
+resolved strength in her patient eyes and in the gentle lines of her face
+had something that seemed to him sad and awful--as the purely spiritual
+always looks to the more animal nature. With his blood bounding and
+tingling in his veins, his strong arms pulsating with life, and his heart
+full of a man's vigor and resolve, his mother's life seemed to him to be
+one of weariness and drudgery, of constant, unceasing self-abnegation.
+Calm he knew she was, always sustained, never faltering; but her victory
+was one which, like the spiritual sweetness in the face of the dying, had
+something of sadness for the living heart.
+
+He opened the door and came in, sat down by her on the floor, and laid
+his head in her lap.
+
+"Mother, you never rest; you never stop working."
+
+"Oh, no!" she said gaily, "I'm just going to stop now. I had only a few
+last things I wanted to get done."
+
+"Mother, I can't bear to think of you; your life is too hard. We all have
+our amusements, our rests, our changes; your work is never done; you are
+worn out, and get no time to read, no time for anything but drudgery."
+
+"Don't say drudgery, my boy--work done for those we love _never_ is
+drudgery. I'm so happy to have you all around me I never feel it."
+
+"But, mother, you are not strong, and I don't see how you can hold out to
+do all you do."
+
+"Well," she said simply, "when my strength is all gone I ask God for
+more, and he always gives it. 'They that wait on the Lord shall renew
+their strength.'" And her hand involuntarily fell on the open Bible.
+
+"Yes, I know it," he said, following her hand with his eyes--while
+"Mother," he said, "I want you to give me your Bible and take mine. I
+think yours would do me more good."
+
+There was a little bright flush and a pleased smile on his mother's face--
+
+"Certainly, my boy, I will."
+
+"I see you have marked your favorite places," he added. "It will seem
+like hearing you speak to read them."
+
+"With all my heart," she added, taking up the Bible and kissing his
+forehead as she put it into his hands.
+
+There was a struggle in his heart how to say farewell without saying it--
+without letting her know that he was going to leave her. He clasped her
+in his arms and kissed her again and again.
+
+"Mother," he said, "if I ever get into heaven it will be through you."
+
+"Don't say that, my son--it must be through a better Friend than I am--
+who loves you more than I do. I have not died for you--He did."
+
+"Oh, that I knew where I might find him, then. You I can see--Him I
+cannot."
+
+His mother looked at him with a face full of radiance, pity, and hope.
+
+"I feel sure you _will_" she said. "You are consecrated," she added, in a
+low voice, laying her hand on his head.
+
+"Amen," said James, in a reverential tone. He felt that she was at that
+moment--as she often was--silently speaking to One invisible of and for
+him, and the sense of it stole over him like a benediction. There was a
+pause of tender silence for many minutes.
+
+"Well, I must not keep you up any longer, mother dear--it's time you were
+resting. Good-night." And with a long embrace and kiss they separated. He
+had yet fifteen miles to walk to reach the midnight stage that was to
+convey him to Salem.
+
+As he was starting from the house with his bundle in his hand, the sound
+of a gay laugh came through the distant shrubbery. It was Diana and Bill
+returning from the husking. Hastily he concealed himself behind a clump
+of old lilac bushes till they emerged into the moonlight and passed into
+the house. Diana was in one of those paroxysms of young girl frolic which
+are the effervescence of young, healthy blood, as natural as the
+gyrations of a bobolink on a clover head. James was thinking of dark
+nights and stormy seas, years of exile, mother's sorrows, home perhaps
+never to be seen more, and the laugh jarred on him like a terrible
+discord. He watched her into the house, turned, and was gone.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI.
+
+
+GONE TO SEA.
+
+A little way on in his moonlight walk James's ears were saluted by the
+sound of some one whistling and crackling through the bushes, and soon
+Biah Carter, emerged into the moonlight, having been out to the same
+husking where Diana and Bill had been enjoying themselves. The sight of
+him resolved a doubt which had been agitating James's mind. The note to
+his mother which was to explain his absence and the reasons for it was
+still in his coat-pocket, and he had designed sending it back by some
+messenger at the tavern where he took the midnight stage; but here was a
+more trusty party. It involved, to be sure, the necessity of taking Biah
+into his confidence. James was well aware that to tell that acute
+individual the least particle of a story was like starting a gimlet in a
+pine board--there was no stop till it had gone through. So he told him in
+brief that a good berth had been offered to him on the _Eastern Star_,
+and he meant to take it to relieve his father of the pressure of his
+education.
+
+"Wal naow--you don't say so," was Biah's commentary. "Wal, yis, 'tis hard
+sleddin' for the deacon--drefful hard sleddin.' Wal, naow, s'pose you're
+disapp'inted--shouldn't wonder--jes' so. Eddication's a good thing, but
+'taint the only thing naow; folks larns a sight rubbin' round the world--
+and then they make money. Jes' see, there's Cap'n Stebbins and Cap'n
+Andrews and Cap'n Merryweather--all livin' on good farms, with good, nice
+houses, all got goin' to sea. Expect Mis' Pitkin'll take it sort o' hard,
+she's so sot on you; but she's allers sayin' things is for the best, and
+maybe she'll come to think so 'bout this--folks gen'ally does when they
+can't help themselves. Wal, yis, naow--goin' to walk to the cross-road
+tavern? better not. Jest wait a minit and I'll hitch up and take ye over.
+
+"Thank you, Biah, but I can't stop, and I'd rather walk, so I won't
+trouble you."
+
+"Wal, look here--don't ye want a sort o' nest-egg? I've got fifty silver
+dollars laid up: you take it on venture and give me half what it brings."
+
+"Thank you, Biah. If you'll trust me with it I'll hope to do something
+for us both."
+
+Biah went into the house, and after some fumbling brought out a canvas
+bag, which he put into James's hand.
+
+"Wanted to go to sea confoundedly myself, but there's Mariar Jane--she
+won't hear on't, and turns on the water-works if I peep a single word.
+Farmin's drefful slow, but when a feller's got a gal he's got a cap'n; he
+has to mind orders. So you jest trade and we'll go sheers. I think
+consid'able of you, and I expect you'll make it go as fur as anybody."
+
+"I'll try my best, you may believe, Biah," said James, shaking the hard
+hand heartily, as he turned on his way towards the cross-roads tavern.
+
+The whole village of Maplewood on Thanksgiving Day morning was possessed
+of the fact that James Pitkin had gone off to sea in the _Eastern Star_,
+for Biah had felt all the sense of importance which the possession of a
+startling piece of intelligence gives to one, and took occasion to call
+at the tavern and store on his way up and make the most of his
+information, so that by the time the bell rang for service the news might
+be said to be everywhere. The minister's general custom on Thanksgiving
+Day was to get off a political sermon reviewing the State of New England,
+the United States of America, and Europe, Asia, and Africa; but it may be
+doubted if all the affairs of all these continents produced as much
+sensation among the girls in the singers' seat that day as did the news
+that James Pitkin had gone to sea on a four years' voyage. Curious eyes
+were cast on Diana Pitkin, and many were the whispers and speculations as
+to the part she might have had in the move; and certainly she looked
+paler and graver than usual, and some thought they could detect traces of
+tears on her cheeks. Some noticed in the tones of her voice that day, as
+they rose in the soprano, a tremor and pathos never remarked before--the
+unconscious utterance of a new sense of sorrow, awakened in a soul that
+up to this time had never known a grief.
+
+For the letter had fallen on the heads of the Pitkin household like a
+thunderbolt. Biah came in to breakfast and gave it to Mrs. Pitkin, saying
+that James had handed him that last night, on his way over to take the
+midnight stage to Salem, where he was going to sail on the _Eastern Star_
+to-day--no doubt he's off to sea by this time. A confused sound of
+exclamations went up around the table, while Mrs. Pitkin, pale and calm,
+read the letter and then passed it to her husband without a word. The
+bright, fixed color in Diana's face had meanwhile been slowly ebbing
+away, till, with cheeks and lips pale as ashes, she hastily rose and left
+the table and went to her room. A strange, new, terrible pain--a
+sensation like being choked or smothered--a rush of mixed emotions--a
+fearful sense of some inexorable, unalterable crisis having come of her
+girlish folly--overwhelmed her. Again she remembered the deep tones of
+his good-by, and how she had only mocked at his emotion. She sat down and
+leaned her head on her hands in a tearless, confused sorrow.
+
+Deacon' Pitkin was at first more shocked and overwhelmed than his wife.
+His yesterday's talk with James had no such serious purpose. It had been
+only the escape-valve for his hypochondriac forebodings of the future,
+and nothing was farther from his thoughts than having it bear fruit in
+any such decisive movement on the part of his son. In fact, he secretly
+was proud of his talents and his scholarship, and had set his heart on
+his going through college, and had no more serious purpose in what he
+said the day before than the general one of making his son feel the
+difficulties and straits he was put to for him. Young men were tempted at
+college to be too expensive, he thought, and to forget what it cost their
+parents at home. In short, the whole thing had been merely the passing
+off of a paroxysm of hypochondria, and he had already begun to be
+satisfied that he should raise his interest money that year without
+material difficulty. The letter showed him too keenly the depth of the
+suffering he had inflicted on his son, and when he had read it he cast a
+sort of helpless, questioning look on his wife, and said, after an
+interval of silence:
+
+"Well, mother!"
+
+There was something quite pathetic in the appealing look and voice.'
+
+"Well, father," she answered in subdued tones; "all we can do now is to
+_leave_ it."
+
+LEAVE IT!
+
+Those were words often in that woman's mouth, and they expressed that
+habit of her life which made her victorious over all troubles, that habit
+of trust in the Infinite Will that actually could and did _leave_ every
+accomplished event in His hand, without murmur and without conflict.
+
+If there was any one thing in her uniformly self-denied life that had
+been a personal ambition and a personal desire, it had been that her son
+should have a college education. It was the center of her earthly wishes,
+hopes and efforts. That wish had been cut off in a moment, that hope had
+sunk under her feet, and now only remained to her the task of comforting
+the undisciplined soul whose unguided utterances had wrought the
+mischief. It was not the first time that, wounded by a loving hand in
+this dark struggle of life, she had suppressed the pain of her own hurt
+that he that had wounded her might the better forgive himself.
+
+"Dear father," she said to him, when over and over he blamed himself for
+his yesterday's harsh words to his son, "don't worry about it now; you
+didn't mean it. James is a good boy, and he'll see it right at last; and
+he is in God's hands, and we must leave him there. He overrules all."
+
+When Mrs. Pitkin turned from her husband she sought Diana in her room.
+
+"Oh, cousin! cousin!" said the girl, throwing herself into her arms.
+"_Is_ this true? Is James _gone_? Can't we do _any_ thing? Can't we get
+him back? I've been thinking it over. Oh, if the ship wouldn't sail! and
+I'd go to Salem and beg him to come back, on my knees. Oh, if I had only
+known yesterday! Oh, cousin, cousin! he wanted to talk with me, and I
+wouldn't hear him!--oh, if I only had, I could have persuaded him out of
+it! Oh, why didn't I know?"
+
+"There, there, dear child! We must accept it just as it is, now that it
+is done. Don't feel so. We must try to look at the good."
+
+"Oh, show me that letter," said Diana; and Mrs. Pitkin, hoping to
+tranquilize her, gave her James's note. "He thinks I don't care for him,"
+she said, reading it hastily. "Well, I don't wonder! But I _do_ care! I
+love him better than anybody or anything under the sun, and I never will
+forget him; he's a brave, noble, good man, and I shall love him as long
+as I live--I don't care who knows it! Give me that locket, cousin, and
+write to him that I shall wear it to my grave."
+
+"Dear child, there is no writing to him."
+
+"Oh, dear! that's the worst. Oh, that horrid, horrid sea! It's like
+death--you don't know where they are, and you can't hear from them--and a
+four years' voyage! Oh, dear! oh, dear!"
+
+"Don't, dear child, don't; you distress me," said Mrs. Pitkin.
+
+"Yes, that's just like me," said Diana, wiping her eyes. "Here I am
+thinking only of myself, and you that have had your heart broken are
+trying to comfort me, and trying to comfort Cousin Silas. We have both of
+us scolded and flouted him away, and now you, who suffer the most of
+either of us, spend your breath to comfort us. It's just like you. But,
+cousin, I'll try to be good and comfort you. I'll try to be a daughter to
+you. You need somebody to think of you, for you never think of yourself.
+Let's go in his room," she said, and taking the mother by the hand they
+crossed to the empty room. There was his writing-table, there his
+forsaken books, his papers, some of his clothes hanging in his closet.
+Mrs. Pitkin, opening a drawer, took out a locket hung upon a bit of blue
+ribbon, where there were two locks of hair, one of which Diana recognized
+as her own, and one of James's. She hastily hung it about her neck and
+concealed it in her bosom, laying her hand hard upon it, as if she would
+still the beatings of her heart.
+
+"It seems like a death," she said. "Don't you think the ocean is like
+death--wide, dark, stormy, unknown? We cannot speak to or hear from them
+that are on it."
+
+"But people can and do come back from the sea," said the mother,
+soothingly. "I trust, in God's own time, we shall see James back."
+
+"But what if we never should? Oh, cousin! I can't help thinking of that.
+There was Michael Davis,--you know--the ship was never heard from."
+
+"Well," said the mother, after a moment's pause and a choking down of
+some rising emotion, and turning to a table on which lay a Bible, she
+opened and read: "If I take the wings of the morning and dwell in the
+uttermost parts of the sea, even there shall Thy hand lead me, and Thy
+right hand shall hold me."
+
+The THEE in this psalm was not to her a name, a shadow, a cipher, to
+designate the unknowable--it stood for the inseparable Heart-friend--the
+Father seeing in secret, on whose bosom all her tears of sorrow had been
+shed, the Comforter and Guide forever dwelling in her soul, and giving
+peace where the world gave only trouble.
+
+Diana beheld her face as it had been the face of an angel. She kissed
+her, and turned away in silence.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII.
+
+
+THANKSGIVING AGAIN.
+
+Seven years had passed and once more the Thanksgiving tide was in
+Mapleton. This year it had come cold and frosty. Chill driving autumn
+storms had stripped the painted glories from the trees, and remorseless
+frosts had chased the hardy ranks of the asters and golden-rods back and
+back till scarce a blossom could be found in the deepest and most
+sequestered spots. The great elm over the Pitkin farm-house had been
+stripped of its golden glory, and now rose against the yellow evening
+sky, with its infinite delicacies of net work and tracery, in their way
+quite as beautiful as the full pomp of summer foliage. The air without
+was keen and frosty, and the knotted twigs of the branches knocked
+against the roof and rattled and ticked against the upper window panes as
+the chill evening wind swept through them.
+
+Seven long years had passed since James sailed. Years of watching, of
+waiting, of cheerful patience, at first, and at last of resigned sorrow.
+Once they heard from James, at the first port where the ship stopped. It
+was a letter dear to his mother's heart, manly, resigned and Christian;
+expressing full purpose to work with God in whatever calling he should
+labor, and cheerful hopes of the future. Then came a long, long silence,
+and then tidings that the _Eastern Star_ had been wrecked on a reef in
+the Indian ocean! The mother had given back her treasure into the same
+beloved hands whence she first received him. "I gave him to God, and God
+took him," she said. "I shall have him again in God's time." This was how
+she settled the whole matter with herself. Diana had mourned with all the
+vehement intensity of her being, but out of the deep baptism of sorrow
+she had emerged with a new and nobler nature. The vain, trifling,
+laughing Undine had received a soul and was a true woman. She devoted
+herself to James's mother with an utter self-sacrificing devotion,
+resolved as far as in her lay to be both son and daughter to her. She
+read, and studied, and fitted herself as a teacher in a neighboring
+academy, and persisted in claiming the right of a daughter to place all
+the amount of her earnings in the family purse.
+
+And this year there was special need. With all his care, with all his
+hard work and that of his family, Deacon Silas never had been able to
+raise money to annihilate the debt upon the farm.
+
+There seemed to be a perfect fatality about it. Let them all make what
+exertions they might, just as they were hoping for a sum that should
+exceed the interest and begin the work of settling the principal would
+come some loss that would throw them all back. One year their barn was
+burned just as they had housed their hay. On another a valuable horse
+died, and then there were fits of sickness among the children, and poor
+crops in the field, and low prices in the market; in short, as Biah
+remarked, "The deacon's luck did seem to be a sort o' streaky, for do
+what you might there's always suthin' to put him back." As the younger
+boys grew up the deacon had ceased to hire help, and Biah had transferred
+his services to Squire Jones, a rich landholder in the neighborhood, who
+wanted some one to overlook his place. The increased wages had enabled
+him to give a home to Maria Jane and a start in life to two or three
+sturdy little American citizens who played around his house door.
+Nevertheless, Biah never lost sight of the "deacon's folks" in his
+multifarious cares, and never missed an opportunity either of doing them
+a good turn or of picking up any stray item of domestic news as to how
+matters were going on in that interior. He had privately broached the
+theory to Miss Briskett, "that arter all it was James that Diany (he
+always pronounced all names as if they ended in y) was sot on, and that
+she took it so hard, his goin' off, that it did beat all! Seemed to make
+another gal of her; he shouldn't wonder if she'd come out and jine the
+church." And Diana not long after unconsciously fulfilled Biah's
+predictions.
+
+Of late Biah's good offices had been in special requisition, as the
+deacon had been for nearly a month on a sick bed with one of those
+interminable attacks of typhus fever which used to prevail in old times,
+when the doctor did everything he could to make it certain that a man
+once brought down with sickness never should rise again.
+
+But Silas Pitkin had a constitution derived through an indefinite
+distance from a temperate, hard-working, godly ancestry, and so withstood
+both death and the doctor, and was alive and in a convalescent state,
+which gave hope of his being able to carve the turkey at his Thanksgiving
+dinner.
+
+The evening sunlight was just fading out of the little "keeping-room,"
+adjoining the bed-room, where the convalescent now was able to sit up
+most of the day. A cot bed had been placed there, designed for him to lie
+down upon in intervals of fatigue. At present, however, he was sitting in
+his arm-chair, complacently watching the blaze of the hickory fire, or
+following placidly the motions of his wife's knitting-needles.
+
+There was an air of calmness and repose on his thin, worn features that
+never was there in days of old: the haggard, anxious lines had been
+smoothed away, and that spiritual expression which sickness and sorrow
+sometimes develops on the human face reigned in its place. It was the
+"clear shining after rain."
+
+"Wife," he said, "read me something I can't quite remember out of the
+Bible. It's in the eighth of Deuteronomy, the second verse."
+
+Mrs. Pitkin opened the big family Bible on the stand, and read, "And thou
+shalt remember all the way in which the Lord thy God hath led thee these
+forty years in the wilderness, to humble thee and to prove thee and to
+know what is in thy heart, and whether thou wouldst keep his commandments
+or no. And he humbled thee, and suffered thee to hunger, and fed thee
+with manna, which thou knewest not, neither did thy fathers know, that he
+might make thee know that man doth not live by bread alone, but by every
+word that proceedeth out of the mouth of the Lord doth man live."
+
+"There, that's it," interrupted the deacon. "That's what I've been
+thinking of as I've lain here sick and helpless. I've fought hard to keep
+things straight and clear the farm, but it's pleased the Lord to bring me
+low. I've had to lie still and leave all in his hands."
+
+"And where better could you leave all?" said his wife, with a radiant
+smile.
+
+"Well, just so. I've been saying, 'Here I am, Lord; do with me as seemeth
+to thee good,' and I feel a great quiet now. I think it's doubtful if we
+make up the interest this year. I don't know what Bill may get for the
+hay: but I don't see much prospect of raisin' on't; and yet I don't
+worry. Even if it's the Lord's will to have the place sold up and we be
+turned out in our old age, I don't seem to worry about it. His will be
+done."
+
+There was a sound of rattling wheels at this moment, and anon there came
+a brush and flutter of garments, and Diana rushed in, all breezy with the
+freshness of out-door air, and caught Mrs. Pitkin in her arms and kissed
+her first and then the deacon with effusion.
+
+"Here I come for Thanksgiving," she said, in a rich, clear tone, "and
+here," she added, drawing a roll of bills from her bosom, and putting it
+into the deacon's hand, "here's the interest money for this year. I got
+it all myself, because I wanted to show you I could be good for
+something."
+
+"Thank you, dear daughter," said Mrs. Pitkin. "I felt sure some way would
+be found and now I see _what_." She added, kissing Diana and patting her
+rosy cheek, "a very pleasant, pretty way it is, too."
+
+"I was afraid that Uncle Silas would worry and put himself back again
+about the interest money," said Diana.
+
+"Well, daughter," said the Deacon, "it's a pity we should go through all
+we do in this world and not learn anything by it. I hope the Lord has
+taught me not to worry, but just do my best and leave myself and
+everything else in his hands. We can't help ourselves--we can't make one
+hair white or black. Why should we wear our lives out fretting? If I'd a
+known _that_ years ago it would a been better for us all."
+
+"Never mind, father, you know it now," said his wife, with a face serene
+as a star. In this last gift of quietude of soul to her husband she
+recognized the answer to her prayers of years.
+
+"Well now," said Diana, running to the window, "I should like to know
+what Biah Carter is coming here about."
+
+"Oh, Biah's been very kind to us in this sickness," said Mrs. Pitkin, as
+Biah's feet resounded on the scraper.
+
+"Good evenin', Deacon," said Biah, entering, "Good evenin', Mrs. Pitkin.
+Sarvant, ma'am," to Diana--"how ye all gettin' on?"
+
+"Nicely, Biah--well as can be," said Mrs. Pitkin.
+
+"Wal, you see I was up to the store with some o' Squire Jones's bell
+flowers. Sim Coan he said he wanted some to sell, and so I took up a
+couple o' barrels, and I see the darndest big letter there for the
+Deacon. Miss Briskett she was in, lookin' at it, and so was Deacon
+Simson's wife; she come in arter some cinnamon sticks. Wal, and they all
+looked at it and talked it over, and couldn't none o' 'em for their lives
+think what it's all about, it was sich an almighty thick letter," said
+Biah, drawing out a long, legal-looking envelope and putting it in the
+Deacon's hands.
+
+"I hope there isn't bad news in it," said Silas Pitkin, the color
+flushing apprehensively in his pale cheeks as he felt for his spectacles.
+
+There was an agitated, silent pause while he broke the seals and took out
+two documents. One was the mortgage on his farm and the other a receipt
+in full for the money owed on it! The Deacon turned the papers to and
+fro, gazed on them with a dazed, uncertain air and then said:
+
+"Why, mother, do look! _Is_ this so? Do I read it right?"
+
+"Certainly, you do," said Diana, reading over his shoulder. "Somebody's
+paid that debt, uncle!"
+
+"Thank God!" said Mrs. Pitkin, softly; "He has done it."
+
+"Wal, I swow!" said Biah, after having turned the paper in his hands, "if
+this 'ere don't beat all! There's old Squire Norcross's name on't. It's
+the receipt, full and square. What's come over the old crittur? He must
+a' got religion in his old' age; but if grace made him do _that_, grace
+has done a tough job, that's all; but it's done anyhow! and that's all
+you need to care about. Wal, wal, I must git along hum--Mariar Jane'll be
+wonderin' where I be. Good night, all on ye!" and Biah's retreating wagon
+wheels were off in the distance, rattling furiously, for, notwithstanding
+Maria Jane's wondering, Biah was resolved not to let an hour slip by
+without declaring the wonderful tidings at the store.
+
+The Pitkin family were seated at supper in the big kitchen, all jubilant
+over the recent news. The father, radiant with the pleasantest
+excitement, had for the first time come out to take his place at the
+family board. In the seven years since the beginning of our story the
+Pitkin boys had been growing apace, and now surrounded the table quite an
+army of rosy-cheeked, jolly young fellows, who to-night were in a perfect
+tumult of animal gaiety. Diana twinkled and dimpled and flung her
+sparkles round among them, and there was unbounded jollity.
+
+"Who's that looking in at the window?" called out Sam, aged ten, who sat
+opposite the house door. At that moment the door opened, and a dark
+stranger, bronzed with travel and dressed in foreign-looking garments,
+entered.
+
+He stood one moment, all looking curiously at him, then crossing the
+floor, he kneeled down by Mrs. Pitkin's chair, and throwing off his cap,
+looked her close in the eyes.
+
+"Mother, don't you know me?"
+
+She looked at him one moment with that still earnestness peculiar to
+herself, and then fell into his arms. "O my son, my son!"
+
+There were a few moments of indescribable confusion, during which Diana
+retreated, pale and breathless, to a neighboring window, and stood with
+her hand over the locket which she had always worn upon her heart.
+
+After a few moments he came, and she felt him by her.
+
+"What, cousin!" he said; "no welcome from you?" She gave one look, and he
+took her in his arms. She felt the beating of his heart, and he felt
+hers. Neither spoke, yet each felt at that moment sure of the other.
+
+"I say, boys," said James, "who'll help bring in my sea chest?"
+
+Never was sea chest more triumphantly ushered; it was a contest who
+should get near enough to take some part in it's introduction, and soon
+it was open, and James began distributing its contents.
+
+"There, mother," said he, undoing a heavy black India satin and shaking
+out its folds, "I'm determined you shall have a dress fit for you; and
+here's a real India shawl to go with it. Get those on and you'll look as
+much like a queen among women as you ought to."
+
+Then followed something for every member of the family, received with
+frantic demonstrations of applause and appreciation by the more juvenile.
+
+"Oh, what's that?" said Sam, as a package done up in silk paper and tied
+with silver cord was disclosed.
+
+"That's--oh--that's my wife's wedding-dress," said James, unfolding and
+shaking out a rich satin; "and here's her shawl," drawing out an
+embroidered box, scented with sandal-wood.
+
+The boys all looked at Diana, and Diana laughed and grew pale and red all
+in the same breath, as James, folding back the silk and shawl in their
+boxes, handed them to her.
+
+Mrs. Pitkin laughed and kissed her, and said, gaily, "All right, my
+daughter--just right."
+
+What an evening that was, to be sure! What a confusion of joy and
+gladness! What a half-telling of a hundred things that it would take
+weeks to tell.
+
+James had paid the mortgage and had money to spare; and how he got it
+all, and how he was saved at sea, and where he went, and what befell him
+here and there, he promised to be telling them for six months to come.
+
+"Well, your father mustn't be kept up too late," said Mrs. Pitkin. "Let's
+have prayers now, and then to-morrow we'll be fresh to talk more."
+
+So they gathered around the wide kitchen fire and the family Bible was
+brought out.
+
+"Father," said James, drawing out of his pocket the Bible his mother had
+given him at parting, "let me read my Psalm; it has been my Psalm ever
+since I left you." There was a solemn thrill in the little circle as
+James read the verses:
+
+"They that go down to the sea in ships, that do business in great waters;
+these see the works of the Lord and his wonders in the deep. For he
+commandeth and raiseth the stormy wind which lifteth up the waves
+thereof. They mount up to the heaven; they go down again to the depths:
+their soul is melted because of trouble. Then they cry unto the Lord in
+their trouble, and he bringeth them out of their distresses. He maketh
+the storm a calm, so that the waves thereof are still. Then are they glad
+because they be quiet, so he bringeth them unto their desired haven. Oh
+that men would praise the Lord for his goodness, and for his wonderful
+works to the children of men!"
+
+ * * * * *
+
+When all had left the old kitchen, James and Diana sat by the yet glowing
+hearth and listened to the crickets, and talked over all the past and the
+future.
+
+"And now," said James, "it's seven years since I left you, and to-morrow
+is the seventh Thanksgiving, and I've always set my heart on getting home
+to be married Thanksgiving evening."
+
+"But, dear me, Jim, we can't. There isn't time."
+
+"Why not?--we've got all the time there is!"
+
+"But the wedding-dress can't be made, possibly."
+
+"Oh, that can wait till the week after. You are pretty enough without
+it!"
+
+"But what will they all say?"
+
+"Who cares what they say? I don't," said James. "The fact is, I've set my
+heart on it, and you owe me something for the way you treated me the last
+Thanksgiving I was here, seven years ago. Now don't you?"
+
+"Well, yes, I do, so have it just as you will." And so it was accomplished
+the next evening.
+
+And among the wonders of Mapleton Miss Briskett announced it as chief,
+that it was the first time she ever heard of a bride that was married
+first and had her wedding-dress made the week after! She never had heard
+of such a thing.
+
+Yet, strange to say, for years after neither of the parties concerned
+found themselves a bit the worse for it.
+
+
+
+
+
+THE FIRST CHRISTMAS OF NEW ENGLAND.
+
+
+The shores of the Atlantic coast of America may well be a terror to
+navigators. They present an inexorable wall, against which forbidding and
+angry waves incessantly dash, and around which shifting winds continually
+rave. The approaches to safe harbors are few in number, intricate and
+difficult, requiring the skill of practiced pilots.
+
+But, as if with a pitying spirit of hospitality, old Cape Cod, breaking
+from the iron line of the coast, like a generous-hearted sailor intent on
+helpfulness, stretches an hundred miles outward, and, curving his
+sheltering arms in a protective circle, gives a noble harborage. Of this
+harbor of Cape Cod the report of our governmental Coast Survey thus
+speaks: "It is one of the finest harbors for ships of war on the whole of
+our Atlantic coast. The width and freedom from obstruction of every kind
+at its entrance and the extent of sea room upon the bay side make it
+accessible to vessels of the largest class in almost all winds. This
+advantage, its capacity, depth of water, excellent anchorage, and the
+complete shelter it affords from all winds, render it one of the most
+valuable ship harbors upon our coast."
+
+We have been thus particular in our mention of this place, because here,
+in this harbor, opened the first scene in the most wonderful drama of
+modern history.
+
+Let us look into the magic mirror of the past and see this harbor of Cape
+Cod on the morning of the 11th of November, in the year of our Lord 1620,
+as described to us in the simple words of the pilgrims: "A pleasant bay,
+circled round, except the entrance, which is about four miles over from
+land to land, _compassed about to the very sea_ with oaks, pines,
+junipers, sassafras, and other sweet weeds. It is a harbor wherein a
+thousand sail of ship may safely ride."
+
+Such are the woody shores of Cape Cod as we look back upon them in that
+distant November day, and the harbor lies like a great crystal gem on the
+bosom of a virgin wilderness. The "fir trees, the pine trees, and the
+bay," rejoice together in freedom, for as yet the axe has spared them; in
+the noble bay no shipping has found shelter; no voice or sound of
+civilized man has broken the sweet calm of the forest. The oak leaves,
+now turned to crimson and maroon by the autumn frosts, reflect themselves
+in flushes of color on the still waters. The golden leaves of the
+sassafras yet cling to the branches, though their life has passed, and
+every brushing wind bears showers of them down to the water. Here and
+there the dark spires of the cedar and the green leaves and red berries
+of the holly contrast with these lighter tints. The forest foliage grows
+down to the water's edge, so that the dash of the rising and falling tide
+washes into the shaggy cedar boughs which here and there lean over and
+dip in the waves.
+
+No voice or sound from earth or sky proclaims that anything unwonted is
+coming or doing on these shores to-day. The wandering Indians, moving
+their hunting-camps along the woodland paths, saw no sign in the stars
+that morning, and no different color in the sunrise from what had been in
+the days of their fathers. Panther and wild-cat under their furry coats
+felt no thrill of coming dispossession, and saw nothing through their
+great golden eyes but the dawning of a day just like all other days--when
+"the sun ariseth and they gather themselves into their dens and lay them
+down." And yet alike to Indian, panther, and wild-cat, to every oak of
+the forest, to every foot of land in America, from the stormy Atlantic to
+the broad Pacific, that day was a day of days.
+
+There had been stormy and windy weather, but now dawned on the earth one
+of those still, golden times of November, full of dreamy rest and tender
+calm. The skies above were blue and fair, and the waters of the curving
+bay were a downward sky--a magical under-world, wherein the crimson oaks,
+and the dusk plumage of the pine, and the red holly-berries, and yellow
+sassafras leaves, all flickered and glinted in wavering bands of color as
+soft winds swayed the glassy floor of waters.
+
+In a moment, there is heard in the silent bay a sound of a rush and
+ripple, different from the lap of the many-tongued waves on the shore;
+and, silently as a cloud, with white wings spread, a little vessel glides
+into the harbor.
+
+A little craft is she--not larger than the fishing-smacks that ply their
+course along our coasts in summer; but her decks are crowded with men,
+women, and children, looking out with joyous curiosity on the beautiful
+bay, where, after many dangers and storms, they first have found safe
+shelter and hopeful harbor.
+
+That small, unknown ship was the _Mayflower;_ those men and women who
+crowded her decks were that little handful of God's own wheat which had
+been flailed by adversity, tossed and winnowed till every husk of earthly
+selfishness and self-will had been beaten away from them and left only
+pure seed, fit for the planting of a new world. It was old Master Cotton
+Mather who said of them, "The Lord sifted three countries to find seed
+wherewith to plant America."
+
+Hark now to the hearty cry of the sailors, as with a plash and a cheer
+the anchor goes down, just in the deep water inside of Long Point; and
+then, says their journal, "being now passed the vast ocean and sea of
+troubles, before their preparation unto further proceedings as to seek
+out a place for habitation, they fell down on their knees and blessed the
+Lord, the God of heaven, who had brought them over the vast and furious
+ocean, and delivered them from all perils and miseries thereof."
+
+Let us draw nigh and mingle with this singular act of worship. Elder
+Brewster, with his well-worn Geneva Bible in hand, leads the thanksgiving
+in words which, though thousands of years old, seem as if written for the
+occasion of that hour:
+
+"Praise the Lord because he is good, for his mercy endureth forever. Let
+them which have been redeemed of the Lord show how he delivereth them
+from the hand of the oppressor, And gathered them out of the lands: from
+the east, and from the west, from the north, and from the south, when
+they wandered in deserts and wildernesses out of the way and found no
+city to dwell in. Both hungry and thirsty, their soul failed in them.
+Then they cried unto the Lord in their troubles, and he delivered them in
+their distresses. And led them forth by the right way, that they might go
+unto a city of habitation. They that go down to the sea and occupy by the
+great waters: they see the works of the Lord and his wonders in the deep.
+For he commandeth and raiseth the stormy wind, and it lifteth up the
+waves thereof. They mount up to heaven, and descend to the deep: so that
+their soul melteth for trouble. They are tossed to and fro, and stagger
+like a drunken man, and all their cunning is gone. Then they cry unto the
+Lord in their trouble, and he bringeth them out of their distresses. He
+turneth the storm to a calm, so that the waves thereof are still. When
+they are quieted they are glad, and he bringeth them unto the haven where
+they would be."
+
+As yet, the treasures of sacred song which are the liturgy of modern
+Christians had not arisen in the church. There was no Watts, and no
+Wesley, in the days of the Pilgrims; they brought with them in each
+family, as the most precious of household possessions, a thick volume
+containing, first, the Book of Common Prayer, with the Psalter appointed
+to be read in churches; second, the whole Bible in the Geneva
+translation, which was the basis on which our present English translation
+was made; and, third, the Psalms of David, in meter, by Sternhold and
+Hopkins, with the music notes of the tunes, adapted to singing. Therefore
+it was that our little band were able to lift up their voices together in
+song and that the noble tones of Old Hundred for the first time floated
+over the silent bay and mingled with the sound of winds and waters,
+consecrating our American shores.
+
+"All people that on earth do dwell,
+ Sing to the Lord with cheerful voice:
+Him serve with fear, His praise forthtell;
+ Come ye before Him and rejoice.
+
+"The Lord, ye know, is God indeed;
+ Without our aid He did us make;
+We are His flock, He doth us feed,
+ And for his sheep He doth us take.
+
+"O enter then His gates with praise,
+ Approach with joy His courts unto:
+Praise, laud, and bless His name always,
+ For it is seemly so to do.
+
+"For why? The Lord our God is good,
+ His mercy is forever sure;
+His truth at all times firmly stood,
+ And shall from age to age endure."
+
+This grand hymn rose and swelled and vibrated in the still November air;
+while in between the pauses came the warble of birds, the scream of the
+jay, the hoarse call of hawk and eagle, going on with their forest ways
+all unmindful of the new era which had been ushered in with those solemn
+sounds.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II.
+
+
+THE FIRST DAY ON SHORE.
+
+The sound of prayer and psalm-singing died away on the shore, and the
+little band, rising from their knees, saluted each other in that genial
+humor which always possesses a ship's company when they have weathered
+the ocean and come to land together.
+
+"Well, Master Jones, here we' are," said Elder Brewster cheerily to the
+ship-master.
+
+"Aye, aye, sir, here we be sure enough; but I've had many a shrewd doubt
+of this upshot. I tell you, sirs, when that beam amidships sprung and
+cracked Master Coppin here said we must give over--hands couldn't bring
+her through. Thou rememberest, Master Coppin?"
+
+"That I do," replied Master Coppin, the first mate, a stocky, cheery
+sailor, with a face red and shining as a glazed bun. "I said then that
+praying might save her, perhaps, but nothing else would."
+
+"Praying wouldn't have saved her," said Master Brown, the carpenter, "if
+I had not put in that screw and worked the beam to her place again."
+
+"Aye, aye, Master Carpenter," said Elder Brewster, "the Lord hath
+abundance of the needful ever to his hand. When He wills to answer
+prayer, there will be found both carpenter and screws in their season, I
+trow."
+
+"Well, Deb," said Master Coppin, pinching the ear of a great mastiff
+bitch who sat by him, "what sayest thou? Give us thy mind on it, old
+girl; say, wilt thou go deer-hunting with us yonder?"
+
+The dog, who was full of the excitement of all around, wagged her tail
+and gave three tremendous barks, whereat a little spaniel with curly
+ears, that stood by Rose Standish, barked aloud.
+
+"Well done!" said Captain Miles Standish. "Why, here is a salute of
+ordnance! Old Deb is in the spirit of the thing and opens out like a
+cannon. The old girl is spoiling for a chase in those woods."
+
+"Father, may I go ashore? I want to see the country," said Wrestling
+Brewster, a bright, sturdy boy, creeping up to Elder Brewster and
+touching his father's elbow.
+
+Thereat there was a crying to the different mothers of girls and boys
+tired of being cooped up,--"Oh, mother, mother, ask that we may all go
+ashore."
+
+"For my part," said old Margery the serving-maid to Elder Brewster, "I
+want to go ashore to wash and be decent, for there isn't a soul of us
+hath anything fit for Christians. There be springs of water, I trow."
+
+"Never doubt it, my woman," said Elder Brewster; "but all things in their
+order. How say you, Mr. Carver? You are our governor. What order shall we
+take?"
+
+"We must have up the shallop," said Carver, "and send a picked company to
+see what entertainment there may be for us on shore."
+
+"And I counsel that all go well armed," quoth Captain Miles Standish,
+"for these men of the forest are sharper than a thorn-hedge. What! what!"
+he said, looking over to the eager group of girls and boys, "ye would go
+ashore, would ye? Why, the lions and bears will make one mouthful of ye."
+
+"I'm not afraid of lions," said young Wrestling Brewster in an aside to
+little Love Winslow, a golden-haired, pale-cheeked child, of a tender and
+spiritual beauty of face. "I'd like to meet a lion," he added, "and serve
+him as Samson did. I'd get honey out of him, I promise."
+
+"Oh, there you are, young Master Boastful!" said old Margery. "Mind the
+old saying, 'Brag is a good dog, but holdfast is better.'"
+
+"Dear husband," said Rose Standish, "wilt thou go ashore in this
+company?"
+
+"Why, aye, sweetheart, what else am I come for--and who should go if not
+I?"
+
+"Thou art so very venturesome, Miles."
+
+"Even so, my Rose of the wilderness. Why else am I come on this quest?
+Not being good enough to be in your church nor one of the saints, I come
+for an arm of flesh to them, and so, here goes on my armor."
+
+And as he spoke, he buried his frank, good-natured countenance in an iron
+headpiece, and Rose hastened to help him adjust his corselet.
+
+The clang of armor, the bustle and motion of men and children, the
+barking of dogs, and the cheery Heave-o! of the sailors marked the
+setting off of the party which comprised some of the gravest, and wisest,
+as well as the youngest and most able-bodied of the ship's' company. The
+impatient children ran in a group and clustered on the side of the ship
+to see them go. Old Deb, with her two half-grown pups, barked and yelped
+after her master in the boat, running up and down the vessel's deck with
+piteous cries of impatience.
+
+"Come hither, dear old Deb," said little Love Winslow, running up and
+throwing her arms round the dog's rough neck; "thou must not take on so;
+thy master will be back again; so be a good dog now, and lie down."
+
+And the great rough mastiff quieted down under her caresses, and sitting
+down by her she patted and played with her, with her little thin hands.
+
+"See the darling," said Rose Standish, "what away that baby hath! In all
+the roughness and the terrors of the sea she hath been like a little
+sunbeam to us--yet she is so frail!"
+
+"She hath been marked in the womb by the troubles her mother bore," said
+old Margery, shaking her head. "She never had the ways of other babies,
+but hath ever that wistful look--and her eyes are brighter than they
+should be. Mistress Winslow will never raise that child--now mark me!"
+
+"Take care!" said Rose, "let not her mother hear you."
+
+"Why, look at her beside of Wrestling Brewster, or Faith Carver. They are
+flesh and blood, and she looks as if she had been made out of sunshine.
+'Tis a sweet babe as ever was; but fitter for the kingdom of heaven than
+our rough life--deary me! a hard time we have had of it. I suppose it's
+all best, but I don't know."
+
+"Oh, never talk that way, Margery," said Rose Standish; "we must all keep
+up heart, our own and one another's."
+
+"Ah, well a day--I suppose so, but then I look at my good Master Brewster
+and remember how, when I was a girl, he was at our good Queen Elizabeth's
+court, ruffling it with the best, and everybody said that there wasn't a
+young man that had good fortune to equal his. Why, Master Davidson, the
+Queen's Secretary of State, thought all the world of him; and when he
+went to Holland on the Queen's business, he must take him along; and when
+he took the keys of the cities there, it was my master that he trusted
+them to, who used to sleep with them under his pillow. I remember when he
+came home to the Queen's court, wearing the great gold chain that the
+States had given him. Ah me! I little thought he would ever come to a
+poor man's coat, then!"
+
+"Well, good Margery," said Rose, "it isn't the coat, but the heart under
+it--that's the thing. Thou hast more cause of pride in thy master's
+poverty than in his riches."
+
+"Maybe so--I don't know," said Margery, "but he hath had many a sore
+trouble in worldly things--driven and hunted from place to place in
+England, clapt into prison, and all he had eaten up with fines and
+charges and costs."
+
+"All that is because he chose rather to suffer affliction with the people
+of God than to enjoy the pleasures of sin for a season," said Rose; "he
+shall have his reward by and by."
+
+"Well, there be good men and godly in Old England that get to heaven in
+better coats and with easy carriages and fine houses and servants, and I
+would my master had been of such. But if he must come to the wilderness I
+will come with him. Gracious me! what noise is that?" she exclaimed, as a
+sudden report of firearms from below struck her ear. "I do believe there
+is that Frank Billington at the gunpowder; that boy will never leave, I
+do believe, till he hath blown up the ship's company."
+
+In fact, it appeared that young master Frank, impatient of the absence of
+his father, had toled Wrestling Brewster and two other of the boys down
+into the cabin to show them his skill in managing his father's fowling-
+piece, had burst the gun, scattering the pieces about the cabin.
+
+Margery soon appeared, dragging the culprit after her. "Look here now,
+Master Malapert, see what you'll get when your father comes home! Lord a
+mercy! here was half a keg of powder standing open! Enough to have blown
+us all up! Here, Master Clarke, Master Clarke, come and keep this boy
+with you till his father come back, or we be all sent sky high before we
+know."
+
+ * * * *
+
+At even tide the boat came back laden to the water's edge with the first
+gettings and givings from the new soil of America. There is a richness
+and sweetness gleaming through the brief records of these men in their
+journals, which shows how the new land was seen through a fond and tender
+medium, half poetic; and its new products lend a savor to them of
+somewhat foreign and rare.
+
+Of this day's expedition the record is thus:
+
+"That day, so soon as we could, we set ashore some fifteen or sixteen men
+well armed, with some to fetch wood, for we had none left; as also to see
+what the land was and what inhabitants they could meet with. They found
+it to be a small neck of land on this side where we lay in the bay, and
+on the further side the sea, the ground or earth, sand-hills, much like
+the downs in Holland, but much better; the crust of the earth a spit's
+depth of excellent black earth; all wooded with oaks, pines, sassafras,
+juniper, birch, holly, vines, some ash and walnut; the wood for the most
+part open and without underwood, fit either to walk or to ride in. At
+night our people returned and found not any people or inhabitants, and
+laded their boat with juniper, which smelled very sweet and strong, and
+of which we burned for the most part while we were there."
+
+"See there," said little Love Winslow, "what fine red berries Captain
+Miles Standish hath brought."
+
+"Yea, my little maid, there is a brave lot of holly berries for thee to
+dress the cabin withal. We shall not want for Christmas greens here,
+though the houses and churches are yet to come."
+
+"Yea, Brother Miles," said Elder Brewster, "the trees of the Lord are
+full of sap in this land, even the cedars of Lebanon, which he hath
+planted. It hath the look to me of a land which the Lord our God hath
+blessed."
+
+"There is a most excellent depth of black, rich earth," said Carver, "and
+a great tangle of grapevines, whereon the leaves in many places yet hung,
+and we picked up stores of walnuts under a tree--not so big as our
+English ones--but sweet and well-flavored."
+
+"Know ye, brethren, what in this land smelleth sweetest to me?" said
+Elder Brewster. "It is the smell of liberty. The soil is free--no man
+hath claim thereon. In Old England a poor man may starve right on his
+mother's bosom; there may be stores of fish in the river, and bird and
+fowl flying, and deer running by, and yet though a man's children be
+crying for bread, an' he catch a fish or snare a bird, he shall be
+snatched up and hanged. This is a sore evil in Old England; but we will
+make a country here for the poor to dwell in, where the wild fruits and
+fish and fowl shall be the inheritance of whosoever will have them; and
+every man shall have his portion of our good mother earth, with no lords
+and no bishops to harry and distrain, and worry with taxes and tythes."
+
+"Amen, brother!" said Miles Standish, "and thereto I give my best
+endeavors with sword and buckler."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III.
+
+
+CHRISTMAS TIDE IN PLYMOUTH HARBOR.
+
+For the rest of that month of November the _Mayflower_ lay at anchor in
+Cape Cod harbor, and formed a floating home for the women and children,
+while the men were out exploring the country, with a careful and steady
+shrewdness and good sense, to determine where should be the site of the
+future colony. The record of their adventures is given in their journals
+with that sweet homeliness of phrase which hangs about the Old English of
+that period like the smell of rosemary in an ancient cabinet.
+
+We are told of a sort of picnic day, when "our women went on shore to
+wash and all to refresh themselves;" and fancy the times there must have
+been among the little company, while the mothers sorted and washed and
+dried the linen, and the children, under the keeping of the old mastiffs
+and with many cautions against the wolves and wild cubs, once more had
+liberty to play in the green wood. For it appears in these journals how,
+in one case, the little spaniel of John Goodman was chased by two wolves,
+and was fain to take refuge between his master's legs for shelter.
+Goodman "had nothing in hand," says the journal, "but took up a stick and
+threw at one of them and hit him, and they presently ran away, but came
+again. He got a pale-board in his hand, but they both sat on their tails
+a good while, grinning at him, and then went their way and left him."
+
+Such little touches show what the care of families must have been in the
+woodland picnics, and why the ship was, on the whole, the safest refuge
+for the women and children.
+
+We are told, moreover, how the party who had struck off into the
+wilderness, "having marched through boughs and bushes and under hills and
+valleys which tore our very armor in pieces, yet could meet with no
+inhabitants nor find any fresh water which we greatly stood in need of,
+for we brought neither beer nor water with us, and our victual was only
+biscuit and Holland cheese, and a little bottle of aqua vitae. So we were
+sore athirst. About ten o'clock we came into a deep valley full of brush,
+sweet gaile and long grass, through which we found little paths or
+tracks; and we saw there a deer and found springs of water, of which we
+were heartily glad, and sat us down and drunk our first New England water
+with as much delight as we ever drunk drink in all our lives."
+
+Three such expeditions through the country, with all sorts of haps and
+mishaps and adventures, took up the time until near the 15th of December,
+when, having selected a spot for their colony, they weighed anchor to go
+to their future home.
+
+Plymouth Harbor, as they found it, is thus described:
+
+"This harbor is a bay greater than Cape Cod, compassed with a goodly
+land, and in the bay two fine islands uninhabited, wherein are nothing
+but woods, oaks, pines, walnuts, beeches, sassafras, vines, and other
+trees which we know not. The bay is a most hopeful place, innumerable
+stores of fowl, and excellent good; and it cannot but be of fish in their
+season. Skate, cod, and turbot, and herring we have tasted of--abundance
+of mussels (clams) the best we ever saw; and crabs and lobsters in their
+time, infinite."
+
+On the main land they write:
+
+"The land is, for a spit's depth, excellent black mould and fat in some
+places. Two or three great oaks, pines, walnut, beech, ash, birch, hazel,
+holly, and sassafras in abundance, and vines everywhere, with cherry-
+trees, plum-trees, and others which we know not. Many kind of herbs we
+found here in winter, as strawberry leaves innumerable, sorrel, yarrow,
+carvel, brook-lime, liver-wort, water-cresses, with great store of leeks
+and onions, and an excellent strong kind of flax and hemp."
+
+It is evident from this description that the season was a mild one even
+thus late into December, that there was still sufficient foliage hanging
+upon the trees to determine the species, and that the pilgrims viewed
+their new mother-land through eyes of cheerful hope.
+
+And now let us look in the glass at them once more, on Saturday morning
+of the 23d of December.
+
+The little _Mayflower_ lies swinging at her moorings in the harbor, while
+every man and boy who could use a tool has gone on shore to cut down and
+prepare timber for future houses.
+
+Mary Winslow and Rose Standish are sitting together on deck, fashioning
+garments, while little Love Winslow is playing at their feet with such
+toys as the new world afforded her--strings of acorns and scarlet holly-
+berries and some bird-claws and arrowheads and bright-colored ears of
+Indian corn, which Captain Miles Standish has brought home to her from
+one of their explorations.
+
+Through the still autumnal air may now and then be heard the voices of
+men calling to one another on shore, the quick, sharp ring of axes, and
+anon the crash of falling trees, with shouts from juveniles as the great
+forest monarch is laid low. Some of the women are busy below, sorting
+over and arranging their little household stores and stuff with a view to
+moving on shore, and holding domestic consultations with each other.
+
+A sadness hangs over the little company, for since their arrival the
+stroke of death has more than once fallen; we find in Bradford's brief
+record that by the 24th of December six had died.
+
+What came nearest to the hearts of all was the loss of Dorothea Bradford,
+who, when all the men of the party were absent on an exploring tour,
+accidentally fell over the side of the vessel and sunk in the deep
+waters. What this loss was to the husband and the little company of
+brothers and sisters appears by no note or word of wailing, merely by a
+simple entry which says no more than the record on a gravestone, that,
+"on the 7th of December, Dorothy, wife of William Bradford, fell over and
+was drowned."
+
+That much-enduring company could afford themselves few tears. Earthly
+having and enjoying was a thing long since dismissed from their
+calculations. They were living on the primitive Christian platform; they
+"rejoiced as though they rejoiced not," and they "wept as though they
+wept not," and they "had wives and children as though they had them not,"
+or, as one of themselves expressed it, "We are in all places strangers,
+pilgrims, travelers and sojourners; our dwelling is but a wandering, our
+abiding but as a fleeting, our home is nowhere but in the heavens, in
+that house not made with hands, whose builder and maker is God."
+
+When one of their number fell they were forced to do as soldiers in the
+stress of battle--close up the ranks and press on.
+
+But Mary Winslow, as she sat over her sewing, dropped now and then a tear
+down on her work for the loss of her sister and counselor and long-tried
+friend. From the lower part of the ship floated up, at intervals,
+snatches of an old English ditty that Margery was singing while she moved
+to and fro about her work, one of those genuine English melodies, full of
+a rich, strange mournfulness blent with a soothing pathos:
+
+"Fear no more the heat o' the sun
+ Nor the furious winter rages,
+Thou thy worldly task hast done,
+ Home art gone and ta'en thy wages."
+
+The air was familiar, and Mary Winslow, dropping her work in her lap,
+involuntarily joined in it:
+
+"Fear no more the frown of the great,
+ Thou art past the tyrant's stroke;
+Care no more to clothe and eat,
+ To thee the reed is as the oak."
+
+"There goes a great tree on shore!" quoth little Love Winslow, clapping
+her hands. "Dost hear, mother? I've been counting the strokes--fifteen--
+and then crackle! crackle! crackle! and down it comes!"
+
+"Peace, darling," said Mary Winslow; "hear what old Margery is singing
+below:
+
+"Fear no more the lightning's flash,
+ Nor the all-dreaded thunder stone;
+Fear not slander, censure rash--
+ Thou hast finished joy and moan.
+All lovers young--all lovers must
+ Consign to thee, and come to dust."
+
+"Why do you cry, mother?" said the little one, climbing on her lap and
+wiping her tears.
+
+"I was thinking of dear Auntie, who is gone from us."
+
+"She is not gone from us, mother."
+
+"My darling, she is with Jesus."
+
+"Well, mother, Jesus is ever with us--you tell me that--and if she is
+with him she is with us too--I know she is--for sometimes I see her. She
+sat by me last night and stroked my head when that ugly, stormy wind
+waked me--she looked so sweet, oh, ever so beautiful!--and she made me go
+to sleep so quiet--it is sweet to be as she is, mother--not away from us
+but with Jesus."
+
+"These little ones see further in the kingdom than we," said Rose
+Standish. "If we would be like them, we should take things easier. When
+the Lord would show who was greatest in his kingdom, he took a little
+child on his lap."
+
+"Ah me, Rose!" said Mary Winslow, "I am aweary in spirit with this
+tossing sea-life. I long to have a home on dry land once more, be it ever
+so poor. The sea wearies me. Only think, it is almost Christmas time,
+only two days now to Christmas. How shall we keep it in these woods?"
+
+"Aye, aye," said old Margery, coming up at the moment, "a brave muster
+and to do is there now in old England; and men and boys going forth
+singing and bearing home branches of holly, and pine, and mistletoe for
+Christmas greens. Oh! I remember I used to go forth with them and help
+dress the churches. God help the poor children, they will grow up in the
+wilderness and never see such brave sights as I have. They will never
+know what a church is, such as they are in old England, with fine old
+windows like the clouds, and rainbows, and great wonderful arches like
+the very skies above us, and the brave music with the old organs rolling
+and the boys marching in white garments and singing so as should draw the
+very heart out of one. All this we have left behind in old England--ah!
+well a day! well a day!"
+
+"Oh, but, Margery," said Mary Winslow, "we have a 'better country' than
+old England, where the saints and angels are keeping Christmas; we
+confess that we are strangers and pilgrims on earth."
+
+And Rose Standish immediately added the familiar quotation from the
+Geneva Bible:
+
+"For they that say such things declare plainly that they seek a country.
+For if they had been mindful of that country from whence they came out
+they had leisure to have returned. But now they desire a better--that is,
+an heavenly; wherefore God is not ashamed of them to be called their
+God."
+
+The fair young face glowed as she repeated the heroic words, for already,
+though she knew it not, Rose Standish was feeling the approaching sphere
+of the angel life. Strong in spirit, as delicate in frame, she had given
+herself and drawn her martial husband to the support of a great and noble
+cause; but while the spirit was ready, the flesh was weak, and even at
+that moment her name was written in the Lamb's Book to enter the higher
+life, in one short month's time from that Christmas.
+
+Only one month of sweetness and perfume was that sweet rose to shed over
+the hard and troubled life of the pilgrims, for the saints and angels
+loved her, and were from day to day gently untying mortal bands to draw
+her to themselves. Yet was there nothing about her of mournfulness; on
+the contrary, she was ever alert and bright, with a ready tongue to cheer
+and a helpful hand to do; and, seeing the sadness that seemed stealing
+over Mary Winslow, she struck another key, and, catching little Love up
+in her arms, said cheerily,
+
+"Come hither, pretty one, and Rose will sing thee a brave carol for
+Christmas. We won't be down-hearted, will we? Hark now to what the
+minstrels used to sing under my window when I was a little girl:
+
+"I saw three ships come sailing in
+On Christmas day, on Christmas day,
+I saw three ships come sailing in
+On Christmas day in the morning.
+
+"And what was in those ships all three
+On Christmas day, on Christmas day,
+And what was in those ships all three
+On Christmas day in the morning?
+
+"Our Saviour Christ and his laydie,
+On Christmas day, on Christmas day,
+Our Saviour Christ and his laydie
+On Christmas day in the morning.
+
+"Pray, whither sailed those ships all three,
+On Christmas day, on Christmas day?
+Oh, they sailed into Bethlehem,
+On Christmas day in the morning.
+
+"And all the bells on earth shall ring
+On Christmas day, on Christmas day;
+And all the angels in heaven shall sing
+On Christmas day in the morning.
+
+"Then let us all rejoice amain,
+On Christmas day, on Christmas day;
+Then let us all rejoice amain
+On Christmas day in the morning."
+
+"Now, isn't that a brave ballad?" said Rose. "Yea, and thou singest like
+a real English robin," said Margery, "to do the heart good to hear thee."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV.
+
+
+ELDER BREWSTER'S CHRISTMAS SERMON.
+
+Sunday morning found the little company gathered once more on the ship,
+with nothing to do but rest and remember their homes, temporal and
+spiritual--homes backward, in old England, and forward, in Heaven. They
+were, every man and woman of them, English to the back-bone. From Captain
+Jones who commanded the ship to Elder Brewster who ruled and guided in
+spiritual affairs, all alike were of that stock and breeding which made
+the Englishman of the days of Bacon and Shakespeare, and in those days
+Christmas was knit into the heart of every one of them by a thousand
+threads, which no after years could untie.
+
+Christmas carols had been sung to them by nurses and mothers and
+grandmothers; the Christmas holly spoke to them from every berry and
+prickly leaf, full of dearest household memories. Some of them had been
+men of substance among the English gentry, and in their prosperous days
+had held high festival in ancestral halls in the season of good cheer.
+Elder Brewster himself had been a rising young diplomat in the court of
+Elizabeth, in the days when the Lord Keeper of the Seals led the revels
+of Christmas as Lord of Misrule.
+
+So that, though this Sunday morning arose gray and lowering, with snow-
+flakes hovering through the air, there was Christmas in the thoughts of
+every man and woman among them--albeit it was the Christmas of wanderers
+and exiles in a wilderness looking back to bright home-fires across
+stormy waters.
+
+The men had come back from their work on shore with branches of green
+pine and holly, and the women had, stuck them about the ship, not without
+tearful thoughts of old home-places, where their childhood fathers and
+mothers did the same.
+
+Bits and snatches of Christmas carols were floating all around the ship,
+like land-birds blown far out to sea. In the forecastle Master Coppin was
+singing:
+
+"Come, bring with a noise,
+ My merry boys,
+ The Christmas log to the firing;
+ While my good dame, she
+ Bids ye all be free,
+ And drink to your hearts' desiring.
+ Drink now the strong beer,
+ Cut the white loaf here.
+ The while the meat is shredding
+ For the rare minced pie,
+ And the plums stand by
+ To fill the paste that's a-kneading."
+
+"Ah, well-a-day, Master Jones, it is dull cheer to sing Christmas songs
+here in the woods, with only the owls and the bears for choristers. I
+wish I could hear the bells of merry England once more."
+
+And down in the cabin Rose Standish was hushing little Peregrine, the
+first American-born baby, with a Christmas lullaby:
+
+"This winter's night
+I saw a sight--
+ A star as bright as day;
+And ever among
+A maiden sung,
+ Lullay, by-by, lullay!
+
+"This lovely laydie sat and sung,
+ And to her child she said,
+My son, my brother, and my father dear,
+ Why lyest thou thus in hayd?
+My sweet bird,
+Tho' it betide
+ Thou be not king veray;
+But nevertheless
+I will not cease
+ To sing, by-by, lullay!
+
+"The child then spake in his talking,
+ And to his mother he said,
+It happeneth, mother, I am a king,
+ In crib though I be laid,
+For angels bright
+Did down alight,
+ Thou knowest it is no nay;
+And of that sight
+Thou may'st be light
+ To sing, by-by, lullay!
+
+"Now, sweet son, since thou art a king,
+ Why art thou laid in stall?
+Why not ordain thy bedding
+ In some great king his hall?
+We thinketh 'tis right
+That king or knight
+ Should be in good array;
+And them among,
+It were no wrong
+ To sing, by-by, lullay!
+
+"Mary, mother, I am thy child,
+ Tho' I be laid in stall;
+Lords and dukes shall worship me,
+ And so shall kinges all.
+And ye shall see
+That kinges three
+ Shall come on the twelfth day;
+For this behest
+Give me thy breast,
+ And sing, by-by, lullay!"
+
+"See here," quoth Miles Standish, "when my Rose singeth, the children
+gather round her like bees round a flower. Come, let us all strike up a
+goodly carol together. Sing one, sing all, girls and boys, and get a bit
+of Old England's Christmas before to-morrow, when we must to our work on
+shore."
+
+Thereat Rose struck up a familiar ballad-meter of a catching rhythm, and
+every voice of young and old was soon joining in it:
+
+"Behold a silly,[1] tender Babe,
+ In freezing winter night,
+In homely manger trembling lies;
+ Alas! a piteous sight,
+The inns are full, no man will yield
+ This little Pilgrim bed;
+But forced He is, with silly beasts
+ In crib to shroud His head.
+Despise Him not for lying there,
+ First what He is inquire:
+An orient pearl is often found
+ In depth of dirty mire.
+
+"Weigh not His crib, His wooden dish,
+ Nor beasts that by Him feed;
+Weigh not His mother's poor attire,
+ Nor Joseph's simple weed.
+This stable is a Prince's court,
+ The crib His chair of state,
+The beasts are parcel of His pomp,
+ The wooden dish His plate.
+The persons in that poor attire
+ His royal liveries wear;
+The Prince Himself is come from Heaven,
+ This pomp is prized there.
+With joy approach, O Christian wight,
+ Do homage to thy King;
+And highly praise His humble pomp,
+ Which He from Heaven doth bring."
+
+[Footnote 1: Old English--simple.]
+
+The cheerful sounds spread themselves through the ship like the flavor of
+some rare perfume, bringing softness of heart through a thousand tender
+memories.
+
+Anon, the hour of Sabbath morning worship drew on, and Elder Brewster
+read from the New Testament the whole story of the Nativity, and then
+gave a sort of Christmas homily from the words of St. Paul, in the eighth
+chapter of Romans, the sixth and seventh verses, which the Geneva version
+thus renders:
+
+"For the wisdom of the flesh is death, but the wisdom of the spirit is
+ life and peace.
+
+"For the wisdom of the flesh is enmity against God, for it is not subject
+ to the law of God, neither indeed can be."
+
+"Ye know full well, dear brethren, what the wisdom of the flesh sayeth.
+The wisdom of the flesh sayeth to each one, 'Take care of thyself; look
+after thyself, to get and to have and to hold and to enjoy.' The wisdom
+of the flesh sayeth, 'So thou art warm, full, and in good liking, take
+thine ease, eat, drink, and be merry, and care not how many go empty and
+be lacking.' But ye have seen in the Gospel this morning that this was
+not the wisdom of our Lord Jesus Christ, who, though he was Lord of all,
+became poorer than any, that we, through His poverty, might become rich.
+When our Lord Jesus Christ came, the wisdom of the flesh despised Him;
+the wisdom of the flesh had no room for Him at the inn.
+
+"There was room enough always for Herod and his concubines, for the
+wisdom of the flesh set great store by them; but a poor man and woman
+were thrust out to a stable; and _there_ was a poor baby born whom the
+wisdom of the flesh knew not, because the wisdom of the flesh is enmity
+against God.
+
+"The wisdom of the flesh, brethren, ever despiseth the wisdom of God,
+because it knoweth it not. The wisdom of the flesh looketh at the thing
+that is great and strong and high; it looketh at riches, at kings'
+courts, at fine clothes and fine jewels and fine feastings, and it
+despiseth the little and the poor and the weak.
+
+"But the wisdom of the Spirit goeth to worship the poor babe in the
+manger, and layeth gold and myrrh and frankincense at his feet while he
+lieth in weakness and poverty, as did the wise men who were taught of
+God.
+
+"Now, forasmuch as our Saviour Christ left His riches and throne in glory
+and came in weakness and poverty to this world, that he might work out a
+mighty salvation that shall be to all people, how can we better keep
+Christmas than to follow in his steps? We be a little company who have
+forsaken houses and lands and possessions, and come here unto the
+wilderness that we may prepare a resting-place whereto others shall come
+to reap what we shall sow. And to-morrow we shall keep our first
+Christmas, not in flesh-pleasing, and in reveling and in fullness of
+bread, but in small beginning and great weakness, as our Lord Christ kept
+it when He was born in a stable and lay in a manger.
+
+"To-morrow, God willing, we will all go forth to do good, honest
+Christian work, and begin the first house-building in this our New
+England--it may be roughly fashioned, but as good a house, I'll warrant
+me, as our Lord Christ had on the Christmas Day we wot of. And let us not
+faint in heart because the wisdom of the world despiseth what we do.
+Though Sanballat the Horonite, and Tobias the Ammonite, and Geshem the
+Arabian make scorn of us, and say, 'What do these weak Jews? If a fox go
+up, he shall break down their stone wall;' yet the Lord our God is with
+us, and He can cause our work to prosper.
+
+"The wisdom of the Spirit seeth the grain of mustard-seed, that is the
+least of all seeds, how it shall become a great tree, and the fowls of
+heaven shall lodge in its branches. Let us, then, lift up the hands that
+hang down and the feeble knees, and let us hope that, like as great
+salvation to all people came out of small beginnings of Bethlehem, so the
+work which we shall begin to-morrow shall be for the good of many
+nations.
+
+"It is a custom on this Christmas Day to give love-presents. What love-
+gift giveth our Lord Jesus on this day? Brethren, it is a great one and a
+precious; as St. Paul said to the Philippians: 'For unto you it is given
+for Christ, not only that ye should believe on Him, but also that ye
+should suffer for His sake;' and St. Peter also saith, 'Behold, we count
+them blessed which endure.' And the holy Apostles rejoiced that they were
+counted worthy to suffer rebuke for the name of Jesus.
+
+"Our Lord Christ giveth us of His cup and His baptism; He giveth of the
+manger and the straw; He giveth of persecutions and afflictions; He
+giveth of the crown of thorns, and right dear unto us be these gifts.
+
+"And now will I tell these children a story, which a cunning playwright,
+whom I once knew in our Queen's court, hath made concerning gifts:
+
+"A great king would marry his daughter worthily, and so he caused three
+caskets to be made, in one of which he hid her picture. The one casket
+was of gold set with diamonds, the second of silver set with pearls, and
+the third a poor casket of lead.
+
+"Now it was given out that each comer should have but one choice, and if
+he chose the one with the picture he should have the lady to wife.
+
+"Divers kings, knights, and gentlemen came from far, but they never won,
+because they always snatched at the gold and the silver caskets, with the
+pearls and diamonds. So, when they opened these, they found only a
+grinning death's-head or a fool's cap.
+
+"But anon cometh a true, brave knight and gentleman, who chooseth for
+love alone the old leaden casket; and, behold, within is the picture of
+her he loveth! and they were married with great feasting and content.
+
+"So our Lord Jesus doth not offer himself to us in silver and gold and
+jewels, but in poverty and hardness and want; but whoso chooseth them for
+His love's sake shall find Him therein whom his soul loveth, and shall
+enter with joy to the marriage supper of the Lamb.
+
+"And when the Lord shall come again in his glory, then he shall bring
+worthy gifts with him, for he saith: 'Be thou faithful unto death, and I
+will give thee a crown of life; to him that overcometh I will give to eat
+of the hidden manna, and I will give him a white stone with a new name
+that no man knoweth save he that receiveth it. He that overcometh and
+keepeth my words, I will give power over the nations and I will give him
+the morning star.'
+
+"Let us then take joyfully Christ's Christmas gifts of labors and
+adversities and crosses to-day, that when he shall appear we may have
+these great and wonderful gifts at his coming; for if we suffer with him
+we shall also reign; but if we deny him, he also will deny us."
+
+And so it happens that the only record of Christmas Day in the pilgrims'
+journal is this:
+
+"Monday, the 25th, being Christmas Day, we went ashore, some to fell
+timber, some to saw, some to rive, and some to carry; and so no man
+rested all that day. But towards night some, as they were at work, heard
+a noise of Indians, which caused us all to go to our muskets; but we
+heard no further, so we came aboard again, leaving some to keep guard.
+That night we had a sore storm of wind and rain. But at night the ship-
+master caused us to have some beer aboard."
+
+So worthily kept they the first Christmas, from which comes all the
+Christmas cheer of New England to-day. There is no record how Mary
+Winslow and Rose Standish and others, with women and children, came
+ashore and walked about encouraging the builders; and how little Love
+gathered stores of bright checker-berries and partridge plums, and was
+made merry in seeing squirrels and wild rabbits; nor how old Margery
+roasted certain wild geese to a turn at a woodland fire, and conserved
+wild cranberries with honey for sauce. In their journals the good
+pilgrims say they found bushels of strawberries in the meadows in
+December. But we, knowing the nature of things, know that these must have
+been cranberries, which grow still abundantly around Plymouth harbor.
+
+And at the very time that all this was doing in the wilderness, and the
+men were working yeomanly to build a new nation, in King James's court
+the ambassadors of the French King were being entertained with maskings
+and mummerings, wherein the staple subject of merriment was the Puritans!
+
+So goes the wisdom of the world and its ways--and so goes the wisdom of
+God!
+
+
+
+***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BETTY'S BRIGHT IDEA; DEACON PITKIN'S
+FARM; AND THE FIRST CHRISTMAS OF NEW ENGLAND***
+
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