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diff --git a/10723-h/10723-h.htm b/10723-h/10723-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..57a9e18 --- /dev/null +++ b/10723-h/10723-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,3123 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Transitional//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-transitional.dtd"> +<html> +<head> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=UTF-8" /> +<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> +<style type="text/css"> +body { font-family: Verdana, Geneva, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; + background-color: #ffffff; + color: #000000} +a:link {color: #000000} +a:visited {color: #000000} +a:hover {color: #000000} + +</style> +</head> +<body> +<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 /> +"When He ascended up on high, He led captivity captive, and gave gifts +unto men."—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,—<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, "The dear God gave you an unspeakable gift; give you a lesser +gift to your brother!"</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—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—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>"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—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!"</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>"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 <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—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."</p> + +<p>At this moment the door opened and the maid entered.</p> + +<p>"Betty, do you know any poor people I ought to get things for, this +Christmas?"</p> + +<p>"Poor folks is always plenty, miss," said Betty.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"What, the gardener father turned off for drinking?"</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>She was quite silent for a minute, and then broke out:</p> + +<p>"I don't care; it's a good idea! I say, Betty, do you know where John's +wife lives?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, miss, I've been there often."</p> + +<p>"Well, then, this afternoon I'll go with you and see if I can do anything +for them."</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. "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.</p> + +<p>"Mamma!" says a little voice, "what are we going to have for our +Christmas?"</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, "Sha'n't we have a Christmas, mother?"</p> + +<p>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."</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—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>"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?"</p> + +<p>The mother looked out on the ivy-grown walls of the church, with its +flocks of twittering sparrows, and said:</p> + +<p>"Yes, my little birds; you may play there if you'll be very good and +quiet."</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. +"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."</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>"May we play with them, please, sir?" said the little Elsie, looking up +with great reverence.</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, to be sure; these are done with—they are no good now."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"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."</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>"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."</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>"You must play it isn't snow—play it's feathers," said Elsie.</p> + +<p>"But I don't like it," persisted Tottie, "it don't feel a bit like +feathers."</p> + +<p>"Oh, well, then," said Elsie, accommodating herself to circumstances, +"let's play get up now and I'll get breakfast."</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. "O Tottie!" "O Elsie!" "Only +see how many pretty things—lots and lots!"</p> + +<p>The sexton stood and looked and laughed as he saw the little ones so +eager for the scraps and remnants.</p> + +<p>"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."</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>"Hark! the herald angels sing<br /> +Glory to the new-born King."</p> + +<p>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.</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>"You can find lots of pretty Christmas greens out there," he said, +pointing to the door; "perhaps your folks would like to have some."</p> + +<p>"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, <i>won't</i> mother be astonished when she comes home, we'll +make it so pretty!"</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, "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."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>The sexton looked after them. "Take heed that ye despise not these little +ones," he said to himself, "for in heaven their angels—"</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. "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.</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>"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.</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. "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.</p> + +<p>"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."</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—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—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 "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 <i>them</i>.</p> + +<p>"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?</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>"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!'"</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>"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>"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—<br /> +'Jesus of Nazareth passeth by!'"</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>"<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>"</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—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 <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>"Yes," cried the man who was speaking; "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—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!"</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>"There were ninety and nine that safely lay<br /> + In the shelter of the fold,<br /> +But one was out on the hills away,<br /> + Far off from the gates of gold—<br /> +Away on the mountains wild and bare,<br /> +Away from the tender Shepherd's care.</p> + +<p>"'Lord, Thou hast here Thy ninety and nine;<br /> + Are they not enough for Thee?'<br /> +But the Shepherd made answer: ''Tis of mine<br /> + Has wandered away from me;<br /> +And although the road be rough and steep<br /> +I go to the desert to find my sheep.'"</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>"But none of the ransomed ever knew<br /> + How deep were the waters crossed;<br /> +Nor how dark was the night that the Lord went through<br /> + Ere He found His sheep that was lost.<br /> +Out in the desert He heard its cry—<br /> +Sick and helpless, and ready to die."</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>"But all through the mountains thunder-riven,<br /> + And up from the rocky steep,<br /> +There rose a cry to the gates of heaven,<br /> + 'Rejoice! I have found my sheep!'<br /> +And the angels echoed around the throne,<br /> +'Rejoice, for the Lord brings back His own!'"</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—the sense of a real, present, loving, pitying +Saviour—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>"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."</p> + +<p>"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.</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—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,—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>"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>." And Miss Florence +pulled out a paper wherein, in her best round hand, she had written out +again the temperance pledge, and dated it "<i>Christmas Eve, 1875</i>."</p> + +<p>"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.</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>"And the angels echoed around the throne,<br /> +Rejoice! for the Lord brings back his own."</p> + + +<br /><hr style="width: 45%;" /><br /> +<h2 align="center">SCENE VI.</h2> + + +<p>"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.</p> + +<p>"What is it, Pussy—half of my kingdom?"</p> + +<p>"No, no, papa; not so much as that. It's a little bit of my own way that +I want."</p> + +<p>"Of course; well, what is it?"</p> + +<p>"Well, I want you to take John back again."</p> + +<p>Her father's face grew hard.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"All that is very true," said Mr. De Witt, "but <i>John drinks</i>, and I +<i>won't</i> have a drinking man."</p> + +<p>"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>," 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>"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!"</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>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 <i>you something</i>" she said bashfully.</p> + +<p>"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 <i>ever</i> so much!"</p> + +<p>"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.</p> + +<p>"Yes, papa," said Florence, caressing Elsie's curly hair,—"see how sweet +they are!"</p> + +<p>"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.</p> + +<p>"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 <i>is</i> 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.</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 "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."</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—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, "Who is she?"—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—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."</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—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—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."</p> + +<p>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 +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>"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:</p> + +<p>"Yes, my daughter, you have done wonderfully. We couldn't do without +you!"</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 "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.</p> + +<p>"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 <i>yeu</i>" 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."</p> + +<p>"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!"</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"The deacon's a master hand to work," said Abner; "so's the boys."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"She's a good woman, Mis' Pitkin is," said Abner, "and she's a smart +worker."</p> + +<p>In this phrase Abner solemnly expressed his highest ideal of a human +being.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"Want ter know," said the auditor, as a sort of musical rest in this +monotone of talk. "Ain't she smart, though!"</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"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.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"What was the matter o' the deacon?"</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"What made Jim go to college?" said Abner with slow wonder in his heavy +face.</p> + +<p>"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>"But <i>there's</i> one that <i>ain't</i> 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."</p> + +<p>"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.</p> + +<p>"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."</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—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.</p> + +<p>"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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</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—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.</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. "We shall all go to the poorhouse +together—that's where it will end," he said, as he tossed restlessly in +the dark.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"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!"</p> + +<p>"Why, father, I thought you yourself were in favor of it."</p> + +<p>"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."</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, "working their lives away."</p> + +<p>"But I tell you, father, as God is my witness, I <i>mean</i> to pay all; you +shall not suffer; interest and principal—all that my work would bring—I +engage to pay back."</p> + +<p>"You!—you'll never have anything! You'll be a poor man as long as you +live. Lost the Academy this<br /> + Fall—that tells the story!"</p> + +<p>"But, father, it wasn't my fault that I lost the Academy."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"There, there, father! that's enough! Please don't say any more. You'll +see I <i>will</i> find something to do!"</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>"Why, ye work like thunder!" was Biah's comment. "Book l'arnin' hain't +spiled ye yet; your arms are good for suthin'."</p> + +<p>"Yes, my arms are good for something, and I'll use them for something," +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>"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!"</p> + +<p>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.</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—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>"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.</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,—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."</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>"Diana, will you take a walk with me to-night?" he said, in a voice husky +with repressed feeling.</p> + +<p>"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.</p> + +<p>"I can't," he said. "Besides I wanted to walk with you alone. I had +something special I wanted to say."</p> + +<p>"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," she said +mischievously.</p> + +<p>He turned away quickly.</p> + +<p>"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.</p> + +<p>"He's cross to-night," was Diana's comment. "Well, he'll have to get over +his pet. I sha'n't mind it!"</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>"How can ye chant, ye little birds, +And I sae weary, fu' o' care?"</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>"She has no feeling," he said to himself. "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."</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. "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.</p> + +<p>"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 <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>"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."'</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>"There's a chestnut for you, Mr. Owl," she called, gaily, "if you <i>will</i> +stay moping up there! Come, now, it's a splendid evening; <i>won't</i> you +come?"</p> + +<p>"No, thank you. I sha'n't be missed," was the reply.</p> + +<p>"That's true enough; the loss is your own. Good bye, Mr. Philosopher."</p> + +<p>"Good bye, Diana."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"What an <i>awfully</i> solemn voice James has sometimes," she said; and then +added, with a laugh, "it would make his fortune as a Methodist minister."</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>"So much for <i>her</i>," 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—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>"O God, our help in ages past,<br /> + Our hope for years to come,<br /> +Our shelter from the stormy blast<br /> + And our eternal home!"</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—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>"Mother, you never rest; you never stop working."</p> + +<p>"Oh, no!" she said gaily, "I'm just going to stop now. I had only a few +last things I wanted to get done."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"Don't say drudgery, my boy—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."</p> + +<p>"But, mother, you are not strong, and I don't see how you can hold out to +do all you do."</p> + +<p>"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.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>There was a little bright flush and a pleased smile on his mother's face—</p> + +<p>"Certainly, my boy, I will."</p> + +<p>"I see you have marked your favorite places," he added. "It will seem +like hearing you speak to read them."</p> + +<p>"With all my heart," 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—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>"Mother," he said, "if I ever get into heaven it will be through you."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"Oh, that I knew where I might find him, then. You I can see—Him I +cannot."</p> + +<p>His mother looked at him with a face full of radiance, pity, and hope.</p> + +<p>"I feel sure you <i>will</i>" she said. "You are consecrated," she added, in a +low voice, laying her hand on his head.</p> + +<p>"Amen," said James, in a reverential tone. He felt that she was at that +moment—as she often<br /> + 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.</p> + +<p>"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.</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—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>"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.</p> + +<p>"Thank you, Biah, but I can't stop, and I'd rather walk, so I won't +trouble you."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"Thank you, Biah. If you'll trust me with it I'll hope to do something +for us both."</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>"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."</p> + +<p>"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.</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—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—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.</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>"Well, mother!"</p> + +<p>There was something quite pathetic in the appealing look and voice.'</p> + +<p>"Well, father," she answered in subdued tones; "all we can do now is to +<i>leave</i> it."</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>"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."</p> + +<p>When Mrs. Pitkin turned from her husband she sought Diana in her room.</p> + +<p>"Oh, cousin! cousin!" said the girl, throwing herself into her arms. +"<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!—oh, if I only had, I could have persuaded him out of +it! Oh, why didn't I know?"</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"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 <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—I don't care who knows it! Give me that locket, cousin, and +write to him that I shall wear it to my grave."</p> + +<p>"Dear child, there is no writing to him."</p> + +<p>"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!"</p> + +<p>"Don't, dear child, don't; you distress me," said Mrs. Pitkin.</p> + +<p>"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.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>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.</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. "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.</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, "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.</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 "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.</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 +"clear shining after rain."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>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."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"And where better could you leave all?" said his wife, with a radiant +smile.</p> + +<p>"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."</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>"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."</p> + +<p>"Thank you, dear daughter," said Mrs. Pitkin. "I felt sure some way would +be found and now I see <i>what</i>." She added, kissing Diana and patting her +rosy cheek, "a very pleasant, pretty way it is, too."</p> + +<p>"I was afraid that Uncle Silas would worry and put himself back again +about the interest money," said Diana.</p> + +<p>"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 <i>that</i> years ago it would a been better for us all."</p> + +<p>"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.</p> + +<p>"Well now," said Diana, running to the window, "I should like to know +what Biah Carter is coming here about."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Biah's been very kind to us in this sickness," said Mrs. Pitkin, as +Biah's feet resounded on the scraper.</p> + +<p>"Good evenin', Deacon," said Biah, entering, "Good evenin', Mrs. Pitkin. +Sarvant, ma'am," to Diana—"how ye all gettin' on?"</p> + +<p>"Nicely, Biah—well as can be," said Mrs. Pitkin.</p> + +<p>"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.</p> + +<p>"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.</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>"Why, mother, do look! <i>Is</i> this so? Do I read it right?"</p> + +<p>"Certainly, you do," said Diana, reading over his shoulder. "Somebody's +paid that debt, uncle!"</p> + +<p>"Thank God!" said Mrs. Pitkin, softly; "He has done it."</p> + +<p>"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 <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—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.</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>"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.</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>"Mother, don't you know me?"</p> + +<p>She looked at him one moment with that still earnestness peculiar to +herself, and then fell into his arms. "O my son, my son!"</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>"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.</p> + +<p>"I say, boys," said James, "who'll help bring in my sea chest?"</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>"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."</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>"Oh, what's that?" said Sam, as a package done up in silk paper and tied +with silver cord was disclosed.</p> + +<p>"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.</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, "All right, my +daughter—just right."</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>"Well, your father mustn't be kept up too late," said Mrs. Pitkin. "Let's +have prayers now, and then<br /> +to-morrow we'll be fresh to talk more."</p> + +<p>So they gathered around the wide kitchen fire and the family Bible was +brought out.</p> + +<p>"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:</p> + +<p>"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!"</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>"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."</p> + +<p>"But, dear me, Jim, we can't. There isn't time."</p> + +<p>"Why not?—we've got all the time there is!"</p> + +<p>"But the wedding-dress can't be made, possibly."</p> + +<p>"Oh, that can wait till the week after. You are pretty enough without +it!"</p> + +<p>"But what will they all say?"</p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + +<p>"Well, yes, I do, so have it just as you will." 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: "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."</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: "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."</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 "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.</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—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.</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—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—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, "The Lord sifted three countries to find seed +wherewith to plant America."</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, "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."</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>"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."</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>"All people that on earth do dwell,<br /> + Sing to the Lord with cheerful voice:<br /> +Him serve with fear, His praise forthtell;<br /> + Come ye before Him and rejoice.</p> + +<p>"The Lord, ye know, is God indeed;<br /> + Without our aid He did us make;<br /> +We are His flock, He doth us feed,<br /> + And for his sheep He doth us take.</p> + +<p>"O enter then His gates with praise,<br /> + Approach with joy His courts unto:<br /> +Praise, laud, and bless His name always,<br /> + For it is seemly so to do. +</p> +<p>"For why? The Lord our God is good,<br /> + His mercy is forever sure;<br /> +His truth at all times firmly stood,<br /> + And shall from age to age endure."</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>"Well, Master Jones, here we' are," said Elder Brewster cheerily to the +ship-master.</p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"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?"</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>"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."</p> + +<p>"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.</p> + +<p>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."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + +<p>"We must have up the shallop," said Carver, "and send a picked company to +see what entertainment there may be for us on shore."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"Oh, there you are, young Master Boastful!" said old Margery. "Mind the +old saying, 'Brag is a good dog, but holdfast is better.'"</p> + +<p>"Dear husband," said Rose Standish, "wilt thou go ashore in this +company?"</p> + +<p>"Why, aye, sweetheart, what else am I come for—and who should go if not +I?"</p> + +<p>"Thou art so very venturesome, Miles."</p> + +<p>"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."</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>"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."</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>"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!"</p> + +<p>"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!"</p> + +<p>"Take care!" said Rose, "let not her mother hear you."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"Oh, never talk that way, Margery," said Rose Standish; "we must all keep +up heart, our own and one another's."</p> + +<p>"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!"</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"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."</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. "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."</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>"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."</p> + +<p>"See there," said little Love Winslow, "what fine red berries Captain +Miles Standish hath brought."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"Amen, brother!" said Miles Standish, "and thereto I give my best +endeavors with sword and buckler."</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 "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."</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, "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."</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>"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."</p> + +<p>On the main land they write:</p> + +<p>"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."</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—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, +"on the 7th of December, Dorothy, wife of William Bradford, fell over and +was drowned."</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 +"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."</p> + +<p>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.</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>"Fear no more the heat o' the sun<br /> + Nor the furious winter rages,<br /> +Thou thy worldly task hast done,<br /> + Home art gone and ta'en thy wages."</p> + +<p>The air was familiar, and Mary Winslow, dropping her work in her lap, +involuntarily joined in it:</p> + +<p>"Fear no more the frown of the great,<br /> + Thou art past the tyrant's stroke;<br /> +Care no more to clothe and eat,<br /> + To thee the reed is as the oak."<br /></p> + +<p>"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!"</p> + +<p>"Peace, darling," said Mary Winslow; "hear what old Margery is singing +below:</p> + +<p>"Fear no more the lightning's flash,<br /> + Nor the all-dreaded thunder stone;<br /> +Fear not slander, censure rash—<br /> + Thou hast finished joy and moan.<br /> +All lovers young—all lovers must<br /> + Consign to thee, and come to dust."<br /></p> + +<p>"Why do you cry, mother?" said the little one, climbing on her lap and +wiping her tears.</p> + +<p>"I was thinking of dear Auntie, who is gone from us."</p> + +<p>"She is not gone from us, mother."</p> + +<p>"My darling, she is with Jesus."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + +<p>"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!"</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>And Rose Standish immediately added the familiar quotation from the +Geneva Bible:</p> + +<p>"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."</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>"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>"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>"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>"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>"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>"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>"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."</p> + +<p>"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."</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—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—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>"Come, bring with a noise,<br /> +My merry boys,<br /> + The Christmas log to the firing;<br /> +While my good dame, she<br /> +Bids ye all be free,<br /> + And drink to your hearts' desiring.<br /> +Drink now the strong beer,<br /> +Cut the white loaf here.<br /> + The while the meat is shredding<br /> +For the rare minced pie,<br /> +And the plums stand by<br /> + To fill the paste that's a-kneading."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>And down in the cabin Rose Standish was hushing little Peregrine, the +first American-born baby, with a Christmas lullaby:</p> + +<p>"This winter's night<br /> +I saw a sight—<br /> + A star as bright as day;<br /> +And ever among<br /> +A maiden sung,<br /> + Lullay, by-by, lullay!</p> + +<p>"This lovely laydie sat and sung,<br /> + And to her child she said,<br /> +My son, my brother, and my father dear,<br /> + Why lyest thou thus in hayd?<br /> +My sweet bird,<br /> +Tho' it betide<br /> + Thou be not king veray;<br /> +But nevertheless<br /> +I will not cease<br /> + To sing, by-by, lullay!</p> + +<p>"The child then spake in his talking,<br /> + And to his mother he said,<br /> +It happeneth, mother, I am a king,<br /> + In crib though I be laid,<br /> +For angels bright<br /> +Did down alight,<br /> + Thou knowest it is no nay;<br /> +And of that sight<br /> +Thou may'st be light<br /> + To sing, by-by, lullay!</p> + +<p>"Now, sweet son, since thou art a king,<br /> + Why art thou laid in stall?<br /> +Why not ordain thy bedding<br /> + In some great king his hall?<br /> +We thinketh 'tis right<br /> +That king or knight<br /> + Should be in good array;<br /> +And them among,<br /> +It were no wrong<br /> + To sing, by-by, lullay!</p> + +<p>"Mary, mother, I am thy child,<br /> + Tho' I be laid in stall;<br /> +Lords and dukes shall worship me,<br /> + And so shall kinges all.<br /> +And ye shall see<br /> +That kinges three<br /> + Shall come on the twelfth day;<br /> +For this behest<br /> +Give me thy breast,<br /> + And sing, by-by, lullay!"<br /></p> + +<p>"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."</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>"Behold a silly,<a name="FNanchor1"></a><a href="#Footnote_1"><sup>[1]</sup></a> tender Babe,<br /> + In freezing winter night,<br /> +In homely manger trembling lies;<br /> + Alas! a piteous sight,<br /> +The inns are full, no man will yield<br /> + This little Pilgrim bed;<br /> +But forced He is, with silly beasts<br /> + In crib to shroud His head.<br /> +Despise Him not for lying there,<br /> + First what He is inquire:<br /> +An orient pearl is often found<br /> + In depth of dirty mire.<br /></p> + +<p>"Weigh not His crib, His wooden dish,<br /> + Nor beasts that by Him feed;<br /> +Weigh not His mother's poor attire,<br /> + Nor Joseph's simple weed.<br /> +This stable is a Prince's court,<br /> + The crib His chair of state,<br /> +The beasts are parcel of His pomp,<br /> + The wooden dish His plate.<br /> +The persons in that poor attire<br /> + His royal liveries wear;<br /> +The Prince Himself is come from Heaven,<br /> + This pomp is prized there.<br /> +With joy approach, O Christian wight,<br /> + Do homage to thy King;<br /> +And highly praise His humble pomp,<br /> + Which He from Heaven doth bring."<br /> +</p> +<blockquote> +<p><a name="Footnote_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor1">[1]</a> Old English—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>"For the wisdom of the flesh is death, but the wisdom of the spirit is +life and peace.<br /></p> +<p>"For the wisdom of the flesh is enmity against God, for it is not subject +to the law of God, neither indeed can be."<br /></p> +<p>"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>"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>"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>"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>"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>"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.</p> + +<p>"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>"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>"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>"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>"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>"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>"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>"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>"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>"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>"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."</p> + +<p>And so it happens that the only record of Christmas Day in the pilgrims' +journal is this:</p> + +<p>"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."</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—and so goes the wisdom of +God!</p> +</td> + </tr> +</table> +<hr /> +<pre> + +<div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 10723 ***</div> +</body> +</html> diff --git a/10723-h/images/cover.jpg b/10723-h/images/cover.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..91ec46a --- /dev/null +++ b/10723-h/images/cover.jpg diff --git a/10723-h/images/frontis.jpg b/10723-h/images/frontis.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..fc440cb --- /dev/null +++ b/10723-h/images/frontis.jpg diff --git a/10723-h/images/holly_dec.gif b/10723-h/images/holly_dec.gif Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..16edca4 --- /dev/null +++ b/10723-h/images/holly_dec.gif diff --git a/10723-h/images/illp32.jpg b/10723-h/images/illp32.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..759ed09 --- /dev/null +++ b/10723-h/images/illp32.jpg diff --git a/10723-h/images/illp37.jpg b/10723-h/images/illp37.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..0d54b69 --- /dev/null +++ b/10723-h/images/illp37.jpg diff --git a/10723-h/images/illp43.jpg b/10723-h/images/illp43.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..ca0cef9 --- /dev/null +++ b/10723-h/images/illp43.jpg |
