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| author | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 04:44:37 -0700 |
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| committer | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 04:44:37 -0700 |
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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/14475-0.txt b/14475-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..1f80993 --- /dev/null +++ b/14475-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,4279 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 14475 *** + +[Illustration: MARY ERSKINE'S FARM] + + +MARY ERSKINE + + +A Franconia Story, + + +BY THE AUTHOR OF THE ROLLO BOOKS. + + + + +NEW YORK: HARPER & BROTHERS PUBLISHERS. FRANKLIN SQUARE. + +Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1850, by HARPER & +BROTHERS, In the Clerk's Office for the Southern District of New York. + + + + +PREFACE. + + +The development of the moral sentiments in the human heart, in early +life,--and every thing in fact which relates to the formation of +character,--is determined in a far greater degree by sympathy, and +by the influence of example, than by formal precepts and didactic +instruction. If a boy hears his father speaking kindly to a robin in +the spring,--welcoming its coming and offering it food,--there arises +at once in his own mind, a feeling of kindness toward the bird, +and toward all the animal creation, which is produced by a sort of +sympathetic action, a power somewhat similar to what in physical +philosophy is called _induction_. On the other hand, if the +father, instead of feeding the bird, goes eagerly for a gun, in order +that he may shoot it, the boy will sympathize in that desire, and +growing up under such an influence, there will be gradually formed +within him, through the mysterious tendency of the youthful heart to +vibrate in unison with hearts that are near, a disposition to kill and +destroy all helpless beings that come within his power. There is no +need of any formal instruction in either case. Of a thousand children +brought up under the former of the above-described influences, nearly +every one, when he sees a bird, will wish to go and get crumbs to feed +it, while in the latter case, nearly every one will just as certainly +look for a stone. Thus the growing up in the right atmosphere, rather +than the receiving of the right instruction, is the condition which +it is most important to secure, in plans for forming the characters of +children. + +It is in accordance with this philosophy that these stories, though +written mainly with a view to their moral influence on the hearts and +dispositions of the readers, contain very little formal exhortation +and instruction. They present quiet and peaceful pictures of happy +domestic life, portraying generally such conduct, and expressing such +sentiments and feelings, as it is desirable to exhibit and express in +the presence of children. + +The books, however, will be found, perhaps, after all, to be useful +mainly in entertaining and amusing the youthful readers who may peruse +them, as the writing of them has been the amusement and recreation of +the author in the intervals of more serious pursuits. + + + + +CONTENTS. + + +CHAPTER + +I.--JEMMY + +II.--THE BRIDE + +III.--MARY ERSKINE'S VISITORS + +IV.--CALAMITY + +V.--CONSULTATIONS + +VI.--MARY BELL IN THE WOODS + +VII.--HOUSE-KEEPING + +VIII.--THE SCHOOL + +IX.--GOOD MANAGEMENT + +X.--THE VISIT TO MARY ERSKINE'S + + + + +ENGRAVINGS. + + +MARY ERSKINE'S FARM--FRONTISPIECE. + +CATCHING THE HORSE + +THE LOG HOUSE + +MARY BELL AT THE BROOK + +THE WIDOW AND THE FATHERLESS + +MRS. BELL + +MARY BELL AND QUEEN BESS + +MARY BELL GETTING BREAKFAST + +THE SCHOOL + +GOING TO COURT + +THE STRAWBERRY PARTY + + + + +THE FRANCONIA STORIES. + + +ORDER OF THE VOLUMES. + +MALLEVILLE. + +WALLACE. + +MARY ERSKINE. + +MARY BELL. + +BEECHNUT. + +RODOLPHUS. + +ELLEN LINN. + +STUYVESANT. + +CAROLINE. + +AGNES. + + + + +SCENE OF THE STORY + + +The country in the vicinity of Franconia, at the North. + + +PRINCIPAL PERSONS + + +MARY ERSKINE. + +ALBERT. + +PHONNY and MALLEVILLE, cousins, residing at the house of Phonny's +mother. + +MRS. HENRY, Phonny's mother. + +ANTONIO BLANCHINETTE, a French boy, residing at Mrs. Henry's; commonly +called Beechnut. + +MRS. BELL, a widow lady, living in the vicinity of Mrs. Henry's. + +MARY BELL, her daughter. + +MARY ERSKINE. + + + + +CHAPTER I. + +JEMMY. + + +Malleville and her cousin Phonny generally played together at +Franconia a great part of the day, and at night they slept in two +separate recesses which opened out of the same room. These recesses +were deep and large, and they were divided from the room by curtains, +so that they formed as it were separate chambers: and yet the children +could speak to each other from them in the morning before they got up, +since the curtains did not intercept the sound of their voices. They +might have talked in the same manner at night, after they had gone to +bed, but this was against Mrs. Henry's rules. + +One morning Malleville, after lying awake a few minutes, listening to +the birds that were singing in the yard, and wishing that the window +was open so that she could hear them more distinctly, heard Phonny's +voice calling to her. + +"Malleville," said he, "are you awake?" + +"Yes," said Malleville, "are you?" + +"Yes," said Phonny, "I'm awake--but what a cold morning it is!" + +It was indeed a cold morning, or at least a very _cool_ one. +This was somewhat remarkable, as it was in the month of June. But the +country about Franconia was cold in winter, and cool in summer. Phonny +and Malleville rose and dressed themselves, and then went down stairs. +They hoped to find a fire in the sitting-room, but there was none. + +"How sorry I am," said Phonny. "But hark, I hear a roaring." + +"Yes," said Malleville; "it is the oven; they are going to bake." + +The back of the oven was so near to the partition wall which formed +one side of the sitting-room, that the sound of the fire could be +heard through it. The mouth of the oven however opened into +another small room connected with the kitchen, which was called the +baking-room. The children went out into the baking-room, to warm +themselves by the oven fire. + +"I am very glad that it is a cool day," said Phonny, "for perhaps +mother will let us go to Mary Erskine's. Should not you like to go?" + +"Yes," said Malleville, "very much. Where is it?" + +The readers who have perused the preceding volumes of this series +will have observed that Mary Bell, who lived with her mother in the +pleasant little farm-house at a short distance from the village, was +always called by her full name, Mary Bell, and not ever, or scarcely +ever, merely Mary. People had acquired the habit of speaking of her in +this way, in order to distinguish her from another Mary who lived with +Mrs. Bell for several years. This other Mary was Mary Erskine. Mary +Erskine did not live now at Mrs. Bell's, but at another house which +was situated nearly two miles from Mrs. Henry's, and the way to it +was by a very wild and unfrequented road. The children were frequently +accustomed to go and make Mary Erskine a visit; but it was so long a +walk that Mrs. Henry never allowed them to go unless on a very cool +day. + +At breakfast that morning Phonny asked his mother if that would not be +a good day for them to go and see Mary Erskine. Mrs. Henry said that +it would be an excellent day, and that she should be very glad to have +them go, for there were some things there to be brought home. Besides +Beechnut was going to mill, and he could carry them as far as Kater's +corner. + +Kater's corner was a place where a sort of cart path, branching off +from the main road, led through the woods to the house where Mary +Erskine lived. It took its name from a farmer, whose name was Kater, +and whose house was at the corner where the roads diverged. The main +road itself was very rough and wild, and the cart path which led from +the corner was almost impassable in summer, even for a wagon, though +it was a very romantic and beautiful road for travelers on horseback +or on foot. In the winter the road was excellent: for the snow buried +all the roughness of the way two or three feet deep, and the teams +which went back and forth into the woods, made a smooth and beautiful +track for every thing on runners, upon the top of it. + +Malleville and Phonny were very much pleased with the prospect of +riding a part of the way to Mary Erskine's, with Beechnut, in the +wagon. They made themselves ready immediately after breakfast, and +then went and sat down upon the step of the door, waiting for Beechnut +to appear. Beechnut was in the barn, harnessing the horse into the +wagon. + +Malleville sat down quietly upon the step while waiting for Beechnut. +Phonny began to amuse himself by climbing up the railing of the +bannisters, at the side of the stairs. He was trying to poise himself +upon the top of the railing and then to work himself up the ascent +by pulling and pushing with his hands and feet against the bannisters +themselves below. + +"I wish you would not do that," said Malleville. "I think it is very +foolish, for you may fall and hurt yourself." + +"No," said Phonny. "It is not foolish. It is very useful for me to +learn to climb." So saying he went on scrambling up the railing of the +bannisters as before. + +Just then Beechnut came along through the yard, towards the house. He +was coming for the whip. + +"Beechnut," said Malleville, "I wish that you would speak to Phonny." + +"_Is_ it foolish for me to learn to climb?" asked Phonny. In +order to see Beechnut while he asked this question, Phonny had to +twist his head round in a very unusual position, and look out under +his arm. It was obvious that in doing this he was in imminent danger +of falling, so unstable was the equilibrium in which he was poised +upon the rail. + +"Is not he foolish?" asked Malleville. + +Beechnut looked at him a moment, and then said, as he resumed his walk +through the entry, + +"Not very;--that is for a boy. I have known boys sometimes to do +foolisher things than that." + +"What did they do?" asked Phonny. + +"Why once," said Beechnut, "I knew a boy who put his nose into the +crack of the door, and then took hold of the latch and pulled the +door to, and pinched his nose to death. That was a _little_ more +foolish, though not much." + +So saying Beechnut passed through the door and disappeared. + +Phonny was seized with so violent a convulsion of laughter at the idea +of such absurd folly as Beechnut had described, that he tumbled off +the bannisters, but fortunately he fell _in_, towards the stairs, +and was very little hurt. He came down the stairs to Malleville, and +as Beechnut returned in a few minutes with the whip, they all went out +towards the barn together. + +Beechnut had already put the bags of grain into the wagon behind, +and now he assisted Phonny and Malleville to get in. He gave them the +whole of the seat, in order that they might have plenty of room, and +also that they might be high up, where they could see. He had a small +bench which was made to fit in, in front, and which he was accustomed +to use for himself, as a sort of driver's seat, whenever the wagon was +full. He placed this bench in its place in front, and taking his seat +upon it, he drove away. + +When the party had thus fairly set out, and Phonny and Malleville had +in some measure finished uttering the multitude of exclamations of +delight with which they usually commenced a ride, they began to wish +that Beechnut would tell them a story. Now Beechnut was a boy of +boundless fertility of imagination, and he was almost always ready to +tell a story. His stories were usually invented on the spot, and were +often extremely wild and extravagant, both in the incidents involved +in them, and in the personages whom he introduced as actors. The +extravagance of these tales was however usually no objection to them +in Phonny's and Malleville's estimation. In fact Beechnut observed +that the more extravagant his stories were, the better pleased his +auditors generally appeared to be in listening to them. He therefore +did not spare invention, or restrict himself by any rules either of +truth or probability in his narratives. Nor did he usually require any +time for preparation, but commenced at once with whatever came into +his head, pronouncing the first sentence of his story, very often +without any idea of what he was to say next. + +On this occasion Beechnut began as follows: + +"Once there was a girl about three years old, and she had a large +black cat. The cat was of a jet black color, and her fur was very soft +and glossy. It was as soft as silk. + +"This cat was very mischievous and very sly. She was _very_ sly: +very indeed. In fact she used to go about the house so very slyly, +getting into all sorts of mischief which the people could never find +out till afterwards, that they gave her the name of Sligo. Some people +said that the reason why she had that name was because she came from +a place called Sligo, in Ireland. But that was not the reason. It was +veritably and truly because she was so sly." + +Beechnut pronounced this decision in respect to the etymological +import of the pussy's name in the most grave and serious manner, and +Malleville and Phonny listened with profound attention. + +"What was the girl's name?" asked Malleville. + +"The girl's?" repeated Beechnut. "Oh, her name was--Arabella." + +"Well, go on," said Malleville. + +"One day," continued Beechnut, "Sligo was walking about the house, +trying to find something to do. She came into the parlor. There was +nobody there. She looked about a little, and presently she saw a +work-basket upon the corner of a table, where Arabella's mother had +been at work. Sligo began to look at the basket, thinking that it +would make a good nest for her to sleep in, if she could only get it +under the clock. The clock stood in a corner of the room. + +"Sligo accordingly jumped up into a chair, and from the chair to the +table, and then pushing the basket along nearer and nearer to the edge +of the table, she at last made it fall over, and all the sewing and +knitting work, and the balls, and needles, and spools, fell out upon +the floor. Sligo then jumped down and pushed the basket along toward +the clock. She finally got it under the clock, crept into it, curled +herself round into the form of a semicircle inside, so as just to fill +the basket, and went to sleep. + +"Presently Arabella came in, and seeing the spools and balls upon +the floor, began to play with them. In a few minutes more, Arabella's +mother came in, and when she saw Arabella playing with these things +upon the floor, she supposed that Arabella herself was the rogue that +had thrown the basket off the table. Arabella could not talk much. +When her mother accused her of doing this mischief, she could only say +"No;" "no;" but her mother did not believe her. So she made her go and +stand up in the corner of the room, for punishment, while Sligo peeped +out from under the clock to see." + +"But you said that Sligo was asleep," said Phonny. + +"Yes, she went to sleep," replied Beechnut, "but she waked up when +Arabella's mother came into the room." + +Beechnut here paused a moment to consider what he should say next, +when suddenly he began to point forward to a little distance before +them in the road, where a boy was to be seen at the side of the road, +sitting upon a stone. + +"I verily believe it is Jemmy," said he. + +As the wagon approached the place where Jemmy was sitting, they +found that he was bending down over his foot, and moaning with, pain. +Beechnut asked him what was the matter. He said that he had sprained +his foot dreadfully. Beechnut stopped the horse, and giving the +reins to Phonny, he got out to see. Phonny immediately gave them to +Malleville, and followed. + +"Are you much hurt?" asked Beechnut. + +"Oh, yes," said Jemmy, moaning and groaning; "oh dear me!" + +Beechnut then went back to the horse, and taking him by the bridle, +he led him a little way out of the road, toward a small tree, where +he thought he would stand, and then taking Malleville out, so that +she might not be in any danger if the horse should chance to start, he +went back to Jemmy. + +"You see," said Jemmy, "I was going to mill, and I was riding along +here, and the horse pranced about and threw me off and sprained my +foot. Oh dear me! what shall I do?" + +"Where is the horse?" asked Beechnut. + +"There he is," said Jemmy, "somewhere out there. He has gone along the +road. And the bags have fallen off too. Oh dear me!" + +Phonny ran out into the road, and looked forward. He could see the +horse standing by the side of the road at some distance, quietly +eating the grass. A little this side of the place where the horse +stood, the bags were lying upon the ground, not very far from each +other. + +The story which Jemmy told was not strictly true. He was one of the +boys of the village, and was of a wild and reckless character. This +was, however, partly his father's fault, who never gave him any kind +and friendly instruction, and always treated him with a great degree +of sternness and severity. + +A circus company had visited Franconia a few weeks before the time of +this accident, and Jemmy had peeped through the cracks of the fence +that formed their enclosure, and had seen the performers ride around +the ring, standing upon the backs of the horses. He was immediately +inspired with the ambition to imitate this feat, and the next time +that he mounted his father's horse, he made the attempt to perform it. +His father, when he found it out, was very angry with him, and sternly +forbade him ever to do such a thing again. He declared positively that +if he did, he would whip him to death, as he said. Jemmy was silent, +but he secretly resolved that he would ride standing again, the very +first opportunity. + +Accordingly, when his father put the two bags of grain upon the horse, +and ordered Jemmy to go to mill with them, Jemmy thought that the +opportunity had come. He had observed that the circus riders, instead +of a saddle, used upon the backs of their horses a sort of flat pad, +which afforded a much more convenient footing than any saddle; and as +to standing on the naked back of a horse, it was manifestly impossible +for any body but a rope-dancer. When, however, Jemmy saw his father +placing the bags of grain upon the horse, he perceived at once that a +good broad and level surface was produced by them, which was much +more extended and level, even than the pads of the circus-riders. He +instantly resolved, that the moment that he got completely away from +the village, he would mount upon the bags and ride standing--and ride +so, too, just as long as he pleased. + +Accordingly, as soon as he had passed the house where Phonny lived, +which was the last house in that direction for some distance, he +looked round in order to be sure that his father was not by any +accident behind him, and then climbing up first upon his knees, and +afterward upon his feet, he drew up the reins cautiously, and then +chirruped to the horse to go on. The horse began to move slowly along. +Jemmy was surprised and delighted to find how firm his footing was +on the broad surface of the bags. Growing more and more bold and +confident as he became accustomed to his situation, he began presently +to dance about, or rather to perform certain awkward antics, which +he considered dancing, looking round continually, with a mingled +expression of guilt, pleasure, and fear, in his countenance, in order +to be sure that his father was not coming. Finally, he undertook to +make his horse trot a little. The horse, however, by this time, +began to grow somewhat impatient at the unusual sensations which +he experienced--the weight of the rider being concentrated upon one +single point, directly on his back, and resting very unsteadily +and interruptedly there,--and the bridle-reins passing up almost +perpendicularly into the air, instead of declining backwards, as they +ought to do in any proper position of the horseman. He began to trot +forward faster and faster. Jemmy soon found that it would be prudent +to restrain him, but in his upright position, he had no control +over the horse by pulling the reins. He only pulled the horse's head +upwards, and made him more uneasy and impatient than before. He then +attempted to get down into a sitting posture again, but in doing +so, he fell off upon the hard road and sprained his ankle. The horse +trotted rapidly on, until the bags fell off, first one and then the +other. Finding himself thus wholly at liberty, he stopped and began +to eat the grass at the road-side, wholly unconcerned at the mischief +that had been done. + +Jemmy's distress was owing much more to his alarm and his sense of +guilt, than to the actual pain of the injury which he had suffered. He +was, however, entirely disabled by the sprain. + +"It is rather a hard case," said Beechnut, "no doubt, but never mind +it, Jemmy. A man may break his leg, and yet live to dance many a +hornpipe afterwards. You'll get over all this and laugh about it one +day. Come, I'll carry you home in my wagon." + +"But I am afraid to go home," said Jemmy. + +"What are you afraid of?" asked Beechnut. + +"Of my father," said Jemmy. + +"Oh no," said Beechnut. "The horse is not hurt, and as for the grist +I'll carry it to mill with mine. So there is no harm done. Come, let +me put you into the wagon." + +"Yes," said Phonny, "and I will go and catch the horse." + +While Beechnut was putting Jemmy into the wagon, Phonny ran along the +road toward the horse. The horse, hearing footsteps, and supposing +from the sound that somebody might be coming to catch him, was at +first disposed to set off and gallop away; but looking round and +seeing that it was nobody but Phonny he went on eating as before. +When Phonny got pretty near to the horse, he began to walk up slowly +towards him, putting out his hand as if to take hold of the bridle and +saying, "Whoa--Dobbin,--whoa." The horse raised his head a little +from the grass, shook it very expressively at Phonny, walked on a few +steps, and then began to feed upon the grass as before. He seemed +to know precisely how much resistance was necessary to avoid the +recapture with which he was threatened. + +"Whoa Jack! whoa!" said Phonny, advancing again. The horse, however, +moved on, shaking his head as before. He seemed to be no more disposed +to recognize the name of Jack than Dobbin. + +[Illustration: CATCHING THE HORSE.] + +"Jemmy," said Phonny, turning back and calling out aloud, "Jemmy! +what's his name?" + +Jemmy did not answer. He was fully occupied in getting into the wagon. + +Beechnut called Phonny back and asked him to hold his horse, while he +went to catch Jemmy's. He did it by opening one of the bags and taking +out a little grain, and by means of it enticing the stray horse near +enough to enable him to take hold of the bridle. He then fastened him +behind the wagon, and putting Jemmy's two bags in, he turned round and +went back to carry Jemmy home, leaving Malleville and Phonny to walk +the rest of the way to Mary Erskine's. Besides their ride, they lost +the remainder of the story of Sligo, if that can be said to be lost +which never existed. For at the time when Beechnut paused in his +narration, he had told the story as far as he had invented it. He had +not thought of another word. + + + + +CHAPTER II. + +THE BRIDE. + + +Mary Erskine was an orphan. Her mother died when she was about twelve +years old. Her father had died long before, and after her father's +death her mother was very poor, and lived in so secluded and solitary +a place, that Mary had no opportunity then to go to school. She +began to work too as soon as she was able to do any thing, and it was +necessary from that day forward for her to work all the time; and this +would have prevented her from going to school, if there had been one +near. Thus when her mother died, although she was an intelligent and +very sensible girl, she could neither read nor write a word. She told +Mrs. Bell the day that she went to live with her, that she did not +even know any of the letters, except the round one and the crooked +one. The round one she said she _always_ knew, and as for S she +learned that, because it stood for Erskine. This shows how little she +knew about spelling. + +Mrs. Bell wanted Mary Erskine to help her in taking care of her own +daughter Mary, who was then an infant. As both the girls were named +Mary, the people of the family and the neighbors gradually fell +into the habit of calling each of them by her full name, in order to +distinguish them from each other. Thus the baby was never called Mary, +but always Mary Bell, and the little nursery maid was always known as +Mary Erskine. + +Mary Erskine became a great favorite at Mrs. Bell's. She was of a +very light-hearted and joyous disposition, always contented and happy, +singing like a nightingale at her work all the day long, when she +was alone, and cheering and enlivening all around her by her buoyant +spirits when she was in company. When Mary Bell became old enough to +run about and play, Mary Erskine became her playmate and companion, +as well as her protector. There was no distinction of rank to separate +them. If Mary Bell had been as old as Mary Erskine and had had a +younger sister, her duties in the household would have been exactly +the same as Mary Erskine's were. In fact, Mary Erskine's position was +altogether that of an older sister, and strangers visiting, the family +would have supposed that the two girls were really sisters, had they +not both been named Mary. + +Mary Erskine was about twelve years older than Mary Bell, so that when +Mary Bell began to go to school, which was when she was about five +years old, Mary Erskine was about seventeen. Mrs. Bell had proposed, +when Mary Erskine first came to her house, that she would go to school +and learn to read and write; but Mary had been very much disinclined +to do so. In connection with the amiableness and gentleness of her +character and her natural good sense, she had a great deal of pride +and independence of spirit; and she was very unwilling to go to +school--being, as she was, almost in her teens--and begin there to +learn her letters with the little children. Mrs. Bell ought to have +required her to go, notwithstanding her reluctance, or else to have +made some other proper arrangement for teaching her to read and write. +Mrs. Bell was aware of this in fact, and frequently resolved that she +would do so. But she postponed the performance of her resolution from +month to month and year to year, and finally it was not performed at +all. Mary Erskine was so very useful at home, that a convenient time +for sparing her never came. And then besides she was so kind, and so +tractable, and so intent upon complying with all Mrs. Bell's wishes, +in every respect, that Mrs. Bell was extremely averse to require any +thing of her, which would mortify her, or give her pain. + +When Mary Erskine was about eighteen years old, she was walking home +one evening from the village, where she had been to do some shopping +for Mrs. Bell, and as she came to a solitary part of the road after +having left the last house which belonged to the village, she saw a +young man coming out of the woods at a little distance before her. She +recognized him, immediately, as a young man whom she called Albert, +who had often been employed by Mrs. Bell, at work about the farm and +garden. Albert was a very sedate and industrious young man, of frank +and open and manly countenance, and of an erect and athletic form. +Mary Erskine liked Albert very well, and yet the first impulse was, +when she saw him coming, to cross over to the other side of the road, +and thus pass him at a little distance. She did in fact take one or +two steps in that direction, but thinking almost immediately that it +would be foolish to do so, she returned to the same side of the road +and walked on. Albert walked slowly along towards Mary Erskine, until +at length they met. + +"Good evening, Mary Erskine," said Albert. + +"Good evening, Albert," said Mary Erskine. + +Albert turned and began to walk along slowly, by Mary Erskine's side. + +"I have been waiting here for you more than two hours," said Albert. + +"Have you?" said Mary Erskine. Her heart began to beat, and she was +afraid to say any thing more, for fear that her voice would tremble, + +"Yes," said Albert. "I saw you go to the village, and I wanted to +speak to you when you came back." + +Mary Erskine walked along, but did not speak. + +"And I have been waiting and watching two months for you to go to the +village," continued Albert. + +"I have not been much to the village, lately," said Mary. + +Here there was a pause of a few minutes, when Albert said again, + +"Have you any objection to my walking along with you here a little +way, Mary?" + +"No," said Mary, "not at all." + +"Mary," said Albert, after another short pause, "I have got a hundred +dollars and my axe,--and this right arm. I am thinking of buying a +lot of land, about a mile beyond Kater's corner. If I will do it, and +build a small house of one room there, will you come and be my wife? +It will have to be a _log_ house at first." + +Mary Erskine related subsequently to Mary Bell what took place at this +interview, thus far, but she would never tell the rest. + +It was evident, however, that Mary Erskine was inclined to accept this +proposal, from a conversation which took place between her and Mrs. +Bell the next evening. It was after tea. The sun had gone down, +and the evening was beautiful. Mrs. Bell was sitting in a low +rocking-chair, on a little covered platform, near the door, which they +called the stoop. There were two seats, one on each side of the stoop, +and there was a vine climbing over it. Mrs. Bell was knitting. Mary +Bell, who was then about six years old, was playing about the yard, +watching the butterflies, and gathering flowers. + +"You may stay here and play a little while," said Mary Erskine to Mary +Bell. "I am going to talk with your mother a little; but I shall be +back again pretty soon." + +Mary Erskine accordingly went to the stoop where Mrs. Bell was +sitting, and took a seat upon the bench at the side of Mrs. Bell, +though rather behind than before her. There was a railing along +behind the seat, at the edge of the stoop and a large white rose-bush, +covered with roses, upon the other side. + +Mrs. Bell perceived from Mary Erskine's air and manner that she +had something to say to her, so after remarking that it was a very +pleasant evening, she went on knitting, waiting for Mary Erskine to +begin. + +"Mrs. Bell," said Mary. + +"Well," said Mrs. Bell. + +The trouble was that Mary Erskine did not know exactly _how_ to +begin. + +She paused a moment longer and then making a great effort she said, + +"Albert wants me to go and live with him." + +"Does he?" said Mrs. Bell. "And where does he want you to go and +live?" + +"He is thinking of buying a farm," said Mary Erskine. + +"Where?" said Mrs. Bell. + +"I believe the land is about a mile from Kater's corner." + +Mrs. Bell was silent for a few minutes. She was pondering the thought +now for the first time fairly before her mind, that the little +helpless orphan child that she had taken under her care so many years +ago, had really grown to be a woman, and must soon, if not then, begin +to form her own independent plans of life. She looked at little Mary +Bell too, playing upon the grass, and wondered what she would do when +Mary Erskine was gone. + +After a short pause spent in reflections like these, Mrs. Bell resumed +the conversation by saying, + +"Well, Mary,--and what do you think of the plan?" + +"Why--I don't know," said Mary Erskine, timidly and doubtfully. + +"You are very young," said Mrs. Bell. + +"Yes," said Mary Erskine, "I always was very young. I was very young +when my father died; and afterwards, when my mother died, I was very +young to be left all alone, and to go out to work and earn my living. +And now I am very young, I know. But then I am eighteen." + +"Are you eighteen?" asked Mrs. Bell. + +"Yes," said Mary Erskine, "I was eighteen the day before yesterday." + +"It is a lonesome place,--out beyond Kater's Corner," said Mrs. Bell, +after another pause. + +"Yes," said Mary Erskine, "but I am not afraid of lonesomeness. I +never cared about seeing a great many people." + +"And you will have to work very hard," continued Mrs. Bell. + +"I know that," replied Mary; "but then I am not afraid of work any +more than I am of lonesomeness. I began to work when I was five years +old, and I have worked ever since,--and I like it." + +"Then, besides," said Mrs. Bell, "I don't know what I shall do with +_my_ Mary when you have gone away. You have had the care of her +ever since she was born." + +Mary Erskine did not reply to this. She turned her head away farther +and farther from Mrs. Bell, looking over the railing of the stoop +toward the white roses. In a minute or two she got up suddenly from +her seat, and still keeping her face averted from Mrs. Bell, she went +in by the stoop door into the house, and disappeared. In about ten +minutes she came round the corner of the house, at the place where +Mary Bell was playing, and with a radiant and happy face, and tones +as joyous as ever, she told her little charge that they would have one +game of hide and go seek, in the asparagus, and that then it would be +time for her to go to bed. + +Two days after this, Albert closed the bargain for his land, and began +his work upon it. The farm, or rather the lot, for the farm was yet +to be made, consisted of a hundred and sixty acres of land, all in +forest. A great deal of the land was mountainous and rocky, fit only +for woodland and pasturage. There were, however, a great many fertile +vales and dells, and at one place along the bank of a stream, there +was a broad tract which Albert thought would make, when the trees +were felled and it was brought into grass, a "beautiful piece of +intervale." + +Albert commenced his operations by felling several acres of trees, on +a part of his lot which was nearest the corner. A road, which had been +laid out through the woods, led across his land near this place. The +trees and bushes had been cut away so as to open a space wide enough +for a sled road in winter. In summer there was nothing but a wild +path, winding among rocks, stumps, trunks of fallen trees, and other +forest obstructions. A person on foot could get along very well, and +even a horse with a rider upon his back, but there was no chance for +any thing on wheels. Albert said that it would not be possible to get +even a wheelbarrow in. + +Albert, however, took great pleasure in going back and forth over this +road, morning and evening, with his axe upon his shoulder, and a pack +upon his back containing his dinner, while felling his trees. When +they were all down, he left them for some weeks drying in the sun, and +then set them on fire. He chose for the burning, the afternoon of a +hot and sultry day, when a fresh breeze was blowing from the west, +which he knew would fan the flames and increase the conflagration. It +was important to do this, as the amount of subsequent labor which he +would have to perform, would depend upon how completely the trees were +consumed. His fire succeeded beyond his most sanguine expectations, +and the next day he brought Mary Erskine in to see what a "splendid +burn" he had had, and to choose a spot for the log house which he was +going to build for her. + +Mary Erskine was extremely pleased with the appearance of Albert's +clearing. The area which had been opened ascended a little from the +road, and presented a gently undulating surface, which Mary Erskine +thought would make very beautiful fields. It was now, however, one +vast expanse of blackened and smoking ruins. + +Albert conducted Mary Erskine and Mary Bell--for Mary Bell had come in +with them to see the fire,--to a little eminence from which they could +survey the whole scene. + +"Look," said he, "is not that beautiful? Did you ever see a better +burn?" + +"I don't know much about burns," said Mary Erskine, "but I can see +that it will be a beautiful place for a farm. Why we can see the +pond," she added, pointing toward the south. + +This was true. The falling of the trees had opened up a fine view of +the pond, which was distant about a mile from the clearing. There +was a broad stream which flowed swiftly over a gravelly bed along the +lower part of the ground, and a wild brook which came tumbling down +from the mountains, and then, after running across the road, fell into +the larger stream, not far from the corner of the farm. The brook and +the stream formed two sides of the clearing. Beyond them, and along +the other two sides of the clearing, the tall trees of those parts of +the forest which had not been disturbed, rose like a wall and hemmed +the opening closely in. + +Albert and Mary Erskine walked along the road through the whole length +of the clearing, looking out for the best place to build their house. + +"Perhaps it will be lonesome here this winter, Mary," said Albert. "I +don't know but that you would rather wait till next spring." + +Mary Erskine hesitated about her reply. She did, in fact, wish to +come to her new home that fall, and she thought it was proper that +she should express the cordial interest which she felt in Albert's +plans;--but, then, on the other hand, she did not like to say any +thing which might seem to indicate a wish on her part to hasten the +time of their marriage. So she said doubtfully,--"I don't know;--I +don't think that it would be lonesome." + +"What do you mean, Albert," said Mary Bell, "about Mary Erskine's +coming to live here? She can't come and live here, among all these +black stumps and logs." + +Albert and Mary Erskine were too intent upon their own thoughts and +plans to pay any attention to Mary Bell's questions. So they walked +along without answering her. + +"What could we have to _do_ this fall and winter?" asked Mary +Erskine. She wished to ascertain whether she could do any good by +coming at once, or whether it would be better, for Albert's plans, to +wait until the spring. + +"Oh there will be plenty to do," said Albert. "I shall have to work a +great deal, while the ground continues open, in clearing up the land, +and getting it ready for sowing in the spring; and it will be a great +deal better for me to live here, in order to save my traveling back +and forth, so far, every night and morning. Then this winter I shall +have my tools to make,--and to finish the inside of the house, and +make the furniture; and if you have any leisure time you can spin. +But after all it will not be very comfortable for you, and perhaps you +would rather wait until spring." + +"No," said Mary Erskine. "I would rather come this fall." + +"Well," rejoined Albert, speaking in a tone of great satisfaction. +"Then I will get the house up next week, and we will be married very +soon after." + +There were very few young men whose prospects in commencing life were +so fair and favorable as those of Albert. In the first place, he was +not obliged to incur any debt on account of his land, as most young +farmers necessarily do. His land was one dollar an acre. He had one +hundred dollars of his own, and enough besides to buy a winter stock +of provisions for his house. He had expected to have gone in debt for +the sixty dollars, the whole price of the land being one hundred and +sixty; but to his great surprise and pleasure Mary Erskine told him, +as they were coming home from seeing the land after the burn, that she +had seventy-five dollars of her own, besides interest; and that she +should like to have sixty dollars of that sum go toward paying for +the land. The fifteen dollars that would be left, she said, would be +enough to buy the furniture. + +"I don't think that will be quite enough," said Albert. + +"Yes," said Mary Erskine. "We shall not want a great deal. We shall +want a table and two chairs, and some things to cook with." + +"And a bed," said Albert. + +"Yes," said Mary Erskine, "but I can make that myself. The cloth will +not cost much, and you can get some straw for me. Next summer we can +keep some geese, and so have a feather bed some day." + +"We shall want some knives and forks, and plates," said Albert. + +"Yes," said Mary Erskine, "but they will not cost much. I think +fifteen dollars will get us all we need. Besides there is more than +fifteen dollars, for there is the interest." + +The money had been put out at interest in the village. + +"Well," said Albert, "and I can make the rest of the furniture that +we shall need, this winter. I shall have a shop near the house. I have +got the tools already." + +Thus all was arranged. Albert built his house on the spot which Mary +Erskine thought would be the most pleasant for it, the week after her +visit to the land. Three young men from the neighborhood assisted him, +as is usual in such cases, on the understanding that Albert was to +help each of them as many days about their work as they worked +for him. This plan is often adopted by farmers in doing work which +absolutely requires several men at a time, as for example, the raising +of heavy logs one upon another to form the walls of a house. In order +to obtain logs for the building Albert and his helpers cut down fresh +trees from the forest, as the blackened and half-burned trunks, which +lay about his clearing, were of course unsuitable for such a work. +They selected the tallest and straightest trees, and after felling +them and cutting them to the proper length, they hauled them to +the spot by means of oxen. The ground served for a floor, and the +fire-place was made of stones. The roof was formed of sheets of +hemlock bark, laid, like slates upon rafters made of the stems of +slender trees. Albert promised Mary Erskine that, as soon as the snow +came, in the winter, to make a road, so that he could get through the +woods with a load of boards upon a sled, he would make her a floor. + +From this time forward, although Mary Erskine was more diligent and +faithful than ever in performing all her duties at Mrs. Bell's, her +imagination was incessantly occupied with pictures and images of the +new scenes into which she was about to be ushered as the mistress of +her own independent household and home. She made out lists, mentally, +for she could not write, of the articles which it would be best to +purchase. She formed and matured in her own mind all her house-keeping +plans. She pictured to herself the scene which the interior of her +dwelling would present in cold and stormy winter evenings, while she +was knitting at one side of the fire, and Albert was busy at some +ingenious workmanship, on the other; or thought of the beautiful +prospect which she should enjoy in the spring and summer following; +when fields of waving grain, rich with promises of plenty and of +wealth, would extend in every direction around her dwelling. She +cherished, in a word, the brightest anticipations of happiness. + +[Illustration: THE LOG HOUSE.] + +The house at length was finished. The necessary furniture which Albert +contrived in some way to get moved to it, was put in; and early in +August Mary Erskine was married. She was married in the morning, and a +party of the villagers escorted her on horseback to her new home. + + + + +CHAPTER III. + +MARY ERSKINE'S VISITORS. + + +Mary Erskine's anticipations of happiness in being the mistress of her +own independent home were very high, but they were more than realized. + +The place which had been chosen for the house was not only a suitable +one in respect to convenience, but it was a very pleasant one. It was +near the brook which, as has already been said, came cascading down +from among the forests and mountains, and passing along near one side +of Albert's clearing, flowed across the road, and finally emptied into +the great stream. The house was placed near the brook, in order that +Albert might have a watering-place at hand for his horses and cattle +when he should have stocked his farm. In felling the forest Albert +left a fringe of trees along the banks of the brook, that it might be +cool and shady there when the cattle went down to drink. There was a +spring of pure cold water boiling up from beneath some rocks not far +from the brook, on the side toward the clearing. The water from this +spring flowed down along a little mossy dell, until it reached the +brook. The bed over which this little rivulet flowed was stony, and +yet no stones were to be seen. They all had the appearance of rounded +tufts of soft green moss, so completely were they all covered and +hidden by the beautiful verdure. + +Albert was very much pleased when he discovered this spring, and +traced its little mossy rivulet down to the brook. He thought that +Mary Erskine would like it. So he avoided cutting down any of the +trees from the dell, or from around the spring, and in cutting down +those which grew near it, he took care to make them fall away from +the dell, so that in burning they should not injure the trees which he +wished to save. Thus that part of the wood which shaded and sheltered +the spring and the dell, escaped the fire. + +The house was placed in such a position that this spring was directly +behind it, and Albert made a smooth and pretty path leading down to +it; or rather he made the path smooth, and nature made it pretty. For +no sooner had he completed his work upon it than nature began to adorn +it by a profusion of the richest and greenest grass and flowers, +which she caused to spring up on either side. It was so in fact in all +Albert's operations upon his farm. Almost every thing that he did was +for some purpose of convenience and utility, and he himself undertook +nothing more than was necessary to secure the useful end. But his kind +and playful co-operator, nature, would always take up the work +where he left it, and begin at once to beautify it with her rich and +luxuriant verdure. For example, as soon as the fires went out over the +clearing, she began, with her sun and rain, to blanch the blackened +stumps, and to gnaw at their foundations with her tooth of decay. If +Albert made a road or a path she rounded its angles, softened away all +the roughness that his plow or hoe had left in it, and fringed it with +grass and flowers. The solitary and slender trees which had been left +standing here and there around the clearing, having escaped the fire, +she took under her special care--throwing out new and thrifty branches +from them, in every direction, and thus giving them massive and +luxuriant forms, to beautify the landscape, and to form shady retreats +for the flocks and herds which might in subsequent years graze upon +the ground. Thus while Albert devoted himself to the substantial and +useful improvements which were required upon his farm, with a view +simply to profit, nature took the work of ornamenting it under her own +special and particular charge. + +The sphere of Mary Erskine's duties and pleasures was within doors. +Her conveniences for house-keeping were somewhat limited at first, but +Albert, who kept himself busy at work on his land all day, spent the +evenings in his shanty shop, making various household implements and +articles of furniture for her. Mary sat with him, usually, at such +times, knitting by the side of the great, blazing fire, made partly +for the sake of the light that it afforded, and partly for the warmth, +which was required to temper the coolness of the autumnal evenings. +Mary took a very special interest in the progress of Albert's work, +every thing which he made being for her. Each new acquisition, as one +article after another was completed and delivered into her possession, +gave her fresh pleasure: and she deposited it in its proper place in +her house with a feeling of great satisfaction and pride. + +"Mary Erskine," said Albert one evening--for though she was married, +and her name thus really changed, Albert himself, as well as every +body else, went on calling her Mary Erskine just as before--"it +is rather hard to make you wait so long for these conveniences, +especially as there is no necessity for it. We need not have paid for +our land this three years. I might have taken the money and built a +handsome house, and furnished it for you at once." + +"And so have been in debt for the land," said Mary. + +"Yes," said Albert. "I could have paid off that debt by the profits of +the farming. I can lay up a hundred dollars a year, certainly." + +"No," said Mary Erskine. "I like this plan the best. We will pay as +we go along. It will be a great deal better to have the three hundred +dollars for something else than to pay old debts with. We will build a +better house than this if we want one, one of these years, when we get +the money. But I like this house very much as it is. Perhaps, however, +it is only because it is my own." + +It was not altogether the idea that it was her own that made Mary +Erskine like her house. The interior of it was very pleasant indeed, +especially after Albert had completed the furnishing of it, and had +laid the floor. It contained but one room, it is true, but that was a +very spacious one. There were, in fact, two apartments enclosed by the +walls and the roof, though only one of them could strictly be called +a room. The other was rather a shed, or stoop, and it was entered from +the front by a wide opening, like a great shed door. The entrance to +the house proper was by a door opening from this stoop, so as to be +sheltered from the storms in winter. There was a very large fire place +made of stones in the middle of one side of the room, with a large +flat stone for a hearth in front of it. This hearth stone was very +smooth, and Mary Erskine kept it always very bright and clean. On +one side of the fire was what they called a settle, which was a long +wooden seat with a very high back. It was placed on the side of the +fire toward the door, so that it answered the purpose of a screen to +keep off any cold currents of air, which might come in on blustering +winter nights, around the door. On the other side of the fire was a +small and \ very elegant mahogany work table. This was a present to +Mary Erskine from Mrs. Bell on the day of her marriage. There were +drawers in this table containing sundry conveniences. The upper drawer +was made to answer the purpose of a desk, and it had an inkstand in +a small division in one corner. Mrs. Bell had thought of taking this +inkstand out, and putting in some spools, or something else which Mary +Erskine would be able to use. But Mary herself would not allow her to +make such a change. She said it was true that she could not write, but +that was no reason why she should not have an inkstand. So she filled +the inkstand with ink, and furnished the desk completely in other +respects, by putting in six sheets of paper, a pen, and several +wafers. The truth was, she thought it possible that an occasion +might arise some time or other, at which Albert might wish to write +a letter; and if such a case should occur, it would give her great +pleasure to have him write his letter at her desk. + +Beyond the work table, on one of the sides of the room, was a +cupboard, and next to the cupboard a large window. This was the only +window in the house, and it had a sash which would rise and fall. Mary +Erskine had made white curtains for this window, which could be parted +in the middle, and hung up upon nails driven into the logs which +formed the wall of the house, one on each side. Of what use these +curtains could be except to make the room look more snug and pleasant +within, it would be difficult to say; for there was only one vast +expanse of forests and mountains on that side of the house, so that +there was nobody to look in. + +On the back side of the room, in one corner, was the bed. It was +supported upon a bedstead which Albert had made. The bedstead had high +posts, and was covered, like the window, with curtains. In the other +corner was the place for the loom, with the spinning-wheel between the +loom and the bed. When Mary Erskine was using the spinning-wheel, +she brought it out into the center of the room. The loom was not yet +finished. Albert was building it, working upon it from time to time as +he had opportunity. The frame of it was up, and some of the machinery +was made. + +Mary Erskine kept most of her clothes in a trunk; but Albert was +making her a bureau. + +Instead of finding it lonesome at her new home, as Mrs. Bell had +predicted, Mary Erskine had plenty of company. The girls from the +village, whom she used to know, were very fond of coming out to see +her. Many of them were much younger than she was, and they loved to +ramble about in the woods around Mary Erskine's house, and to play +along the bank of the brook. Mary used to show them too, every time +they came, the new articles which Albert had made for her, and to +explain to them the gradual progress of the improvements. Mary Bell +herself was very fond of going to see Mary Erskine,--though she was of +course at that time too young to go alone. Sometimes however Mrs. Bell +would send her out in the morning and let her remain all day, playing, +very happily, around the door and down by the spring. She used to play +all day among the logs and stumps, and upon the sandy beach by the +side of the brook, and yet when she went home at night she always +looked as nice, and her clothes were as neat and as clean as when she +went in the morning. Mrs. Bell wondered at this, and on observing that +it continued to be so, repeatedly, after several visits, she asked +Mary Bell how it happened that Mary Erskine kept her so nice. + +"Oh," said Mary Bell, "I always put on my working frock when I go out +to Mary Erskine's." + +The working frock was a plain, loose woolen dress, which Mary Erskine +made for Mary Bell, and which Mary Bell, always put on in the morning, +whenever she came to the farm. Her own dress was taken off and +laid carefully away upon the bed, under the curtains. Her shoes and +stockings were taken off too, so that she might play in the brook if +she pleased, though Mary Erskine told her it was not best to remain in +the water long enough to have her feet get very cold. + +When Mary Bell was dressed thus in her working frock, she was allowed +to play wherever she pleased, so that she enjoyed almost an absolute +and unbounded liberty. And yet there were some restrictions. She +must not go across the brook, for fear that she might get lost in the +woods, nor go out of sight of the house in any direction. She might +build fires upon any of the stumps or logs, but not within certain +limits of distance from the house, lest she should set the house on +fire. And she must not touch the axe, for fear that she might cut +herself, nor climb upon the wood-pile, for fear that it might fall +down upon her. With some such restrictions as these, she could do +whatever she pleased. + +She was very much delighted, one morning in September, when she was +playing around the house in her working frock, at finding a great hole +or hollow under a stump, which she immediately resolved to have for +her oven. She was sitting down upon the ground by the side of it, and +she began to call out as loud as she could, + +"Mary Erskine! Mary Erskine!" + +But Mary Erskine did not answer. Mary Bell could hear the sound of the +spinning-wheel in the house, and she wondered why the spinner could +not hear her, when she called so loud. + +She listened, watching for the pauses in the buzzing sound of the +wheel, and endeavored to call out in the pauses,--but with no better +success than before. At last she got up and walked along toward the +house, swinging in her hand a small wooden shovel, which Albert had +made for her to dig wells with in the sand on the margin of the brook. + +"Mary Erskine!" said she, when she got to the door of the house, +"didn't you hear me calling for you?" + +"Yes," said Mary Erskine. + +"Then why did not you come?" said Mary Bell. + +"Because I was disobedient," said Mary Erskine, "and now I suppose I +must be punished." + +"Well," said Mary Bell. The expression of dissatisfaction and reproof +upon Mary Bell's countenance was changed immediately into one of +surprise and pleasure, at the idea of Mary Erskine's being punished +for disobeying _her_. So she said, + +"Well. And what shall your punishment be?" + +"What did you want me for?" asked Mary Erskine. + +"I wanted you to see my oven." + +"Have you got an oven?" asked Mary Erskine. + +"Yes," said Mary Bell, "It is under a stump. I have got some wood, and +now I want some fire." + +"Very well," said Mary Erskine, "get your fire-pan." + +Mary Bell's fire-pan, was an old tin dipper with a long handle. It had +been worn out as a dipper, and so they used to let Mary Bell have it +to carry her fire in. There were several small holes in the bottom of +the dipper, so completely was it worn out: but this made it all the +better for a fire-pan, since the air which came up through the holes, +fanned the coals and kept them alive. This dipper was very valuable, +too, for another purpose. Mary Bell was accustomed, sometimes, to go +down to the brook and dip up water with it, in order to see the water +stream down into the brook again, through these holes, in a sort of a +shower. + +Mary Bell went, accordingly, for her fire-pan, which she found in its +place in the open stoop or shed. She came into the house, and Mary +Erskine, raking open the ashes in the fire-place, took out two large +coals with the tongs, and dropped them into the dipper. Mary Bell held +the dipper at arm's length before her, and began to walk along. + +"Hold it out upon one side," said Mary Erskine, "and then if you fall +down, you will not fall upon your fire." + +Mary Bell, obeying this injunction, went out to her oven and put the +coals in at the mouth of it. Then she began to gather sticks, +and little branches, and strips of birch bark, and other silvan +combustibles, which she found scattered about the ground, and put them +upon the coals to make the fire. She stopped now and then a minute or +two to rest and to listen to the sound of Mary Erskine's spinning. At +last some sudden thought seemed to come into her head, and throwing +down upon the ground a handful of sticks which she had in her hand, +and was just ready to put upon the fire, she got up and walked toward +the house. + +"Mary Erskine," said she, "I almost forgot about your punishment." + +"Yes," said Mary Erskine, "I hoped that you had forgot about it, +altogether." + +"Why?" said Mary Bell. + +"Because," said Mary Erskine, "I don't like to be punished." + +"But you _must_ be punished," said Mary Bell, very positively, +"and-what shall your punishment be?" + +"How would it do," said Mary Erskine, going on, however, all the time +with her spinning, "for me to have to give you two potatoes to roast +in your oven?--or one? One potato will be enough punishment for such a +little disobedience." + +"No; two," said Mary Bell. + +"Well, two," said Mary Erskine. "You may go and get them in a pail out +in the stoop. But you must wash them first, before you put them in the +oven. You can wash them down at the brook." + +"I am afraid that I shall get my fingers smutty," said Mary Bell, "at +my oven, for the stump is pretty black." + +"No matter if you do," said Mary Erskine. "You can go down and wash +them at the brook." + +"And my frock, too," said Mary Bell. + +"No matter for that either," said Mary Erskine; "only keep it as clean +as you can." + +So Mary Bell took the two potatoes and went down to the brook to wash +them. She found, however, when she reached the brook, that there was +a square piece of bark lying upon the margin of the water, and she +determined to push it in and sail it, for her ship, putting the two +potatoes on for cargo. After sailing the potatoes about for some time, +her eye chanced to fall upon a smooth spot in the sand, which she +thought would make a good place for a garden. So she determined to +_plant_ her potatoes instead of roasting them. + +She accordingly dug a hole in the sand with her fingers, and put the +potatoes in, and then after covering them, over with the sand, she +went to the oven to get her fire-pan for her watering-pot, in order to +water her garden. + +The holes in the bottom of the dipper made it an excellent +watering-pot, provided the garden to be watered was not too far from +the brook: for the shower would always begin to fall the instant the +dipper was lifted out of the water. + +[Illustration: MARY BELL AT THE BROOK.] + +After watering her garden again and again, Mary Bell concluded on the +whole not to wait for her potatoes to grow, but dug them up and began +to wash them in the brook, to make them ready for the roasting. Her +little feet sank into the sand at the margin of the water while she +held the potatoes in the stream, one in each hand, and watched the +current as it swept swiftly by them. After a while she took them out +and put them in the sun upon a flat stone to dry, and when they were +dry she carried them to her oven and buried them in the hot embers +there. + +Thus Mary Bell would amuse herself, hour after hour of the long +day, when she went to visit Mary Erskine, with an endless variety of +childish imaginings. Her working-frock became in fact, in her mind, +the emblem of complete and perfect liberty and happiness, unbounded +and unalloyed. + +The other children of the village, too, were accustomed to come out +and see Mary Erskine, and sometimes older and more ceremonious company +still. There was one young lady named Anne Sophia, who, having been +a near neighbor of Mrs. Bell's, was considerably acquainted with Mary +Erskine, though as the two young ladies had very different tastes and +habits of mind, they never became very intimate friends. Anne Sophia +was fond of dress and of company. Her thoughts were always running +upon village subjects and village people, and her highest ambition +was to live there. She had been, while Mary Erskine had lived at Mrs. +Bell's, very much interested in a young man named Gordon. He was a +clerk in a store in the village. He was a very agreeable young man, +and much more genteel and polished in his personal appearance than +Albert. He had great influence among the young men of the village, +being the leader in all the excursions and parties of pleasure which +were formed among them. Anne Sophia knew very well that Mr. Gordon +liked to see young ladies handsomely dressed when they appeared in +public, and partly to please him, and partly to gratify that very +proper feeling of pleasure which all young ladies have in appearing +well, she spent a large part of earnings in dress. She was not +particularly extravagant, nor did she get into debt; but she did +not, like Mary Erskine, attempt to lay up any of her wages. She often +endeavored to persuade Mary Erskine to follow her example. "It is of +no use," said she, "for girls like you and me to try to lay up money. +If we are ever married we shall make our husbands take care of us; and +if we are not married we shall not want our savings, for we can always +earn what we need as we go along." + +Mary Erskine had no reply at hand to make to this reasoning, but she +was not convinced by it, so she went on pursuing her own course, +while Anne Sophia pursued hers. Anne Sophia was a very capable and +intelligent girl, and as Mr. Gordon thought, would do credit to any +society in which she might be called to move. He became more and more +interested in her, and it happened that they formed an engagement to +be married, just about the time that Albert made his proposal to Mary +Erskine. + +Mr. Gordon was a very promising business man, and had an offer from +the merchant with whom he was employed as a clerk, to enter into +partnership with him, just before the time of his engagement. +He declined this offer, determining rather to go into business +independently. He had laid up about as much money as Albert had, and +by means of this, and the excellent letters of recommendation which he +obtained from the village people, he obtained a large stock of goods, +on credit, in the city. When buying his goods he also bought a small +quantity of handsome furniture, on the same terms. He hired a store. +He also hired a small white house, with green trees around it, and +a pretty garden behind. He was married nearly at the same time with +Albert, and Anne Sophia in taking possession of her genteel and +beautiful village home, was as happy as Mary Erskine was in her sylvan +solitude. Mr. Gordon told her that he had made a calculation, and he +thought there was no doubt that, if business was tolerably good that +winter, he should be able to clear enough to pay all his expenses and +to pay for his furniture. + +His calculations proved to be correct. Business was very good. He +paid for his furniture, and bought as much more on a new credit in the +spring. + +Anne Sophia came out to make a call upon Mary Erskine, about a +month after she had got established in her new home. She came in the +morning. Mr. Gordon brought her in a chaise as far as to the corner, +and she walked the rest of the way. She was dressed very handsomely, +and yet in pretty good taste. It was not wholly a call of ceremony, +for Anne Sophia felt really a strong attachment to Mary Erskine, and +had a great desire to see her in her new home. + +When she rose to take her leave, after her call was ended, she asked +Mary Erskine to come to the village and see her as soon as she could. +"I meant to have called upon you long before this," said she, "but I +have been so busy, and we have had so much company. But I want to see +you very much indeed. We have a beautiful house, and I have a great +desire to show it to you. I think you have got a beautiful place here +for a farm, one of these days; but you ought to make your husband +build you a better house. He is as able to do it as my husband is to +get me one, I have no doubt." + +Mary Erskine had no doubt either. She did not say so however, but only +replied that she liked her house very well. The real reason why she +liked it so much was one that Anne Sophia did not consider. The reason +was that it was her own. Whereas Anne Sophia lived in a house, which, +pretty as it was, belonged to other people. + +All these things, it must be remembered, took place eight or ten years +before the time when Malleville and Phonny went to visit Mary Erskine, +and when Mary Bell was only four or five years old. Phonny and +Malleville, as well as a great many other children, had grown up from +infancy since that time. In fact, the Jemmy who fell from his horse +and sprained his ankle the day they came, was Jemmy Gordon, Anne +Sophia's oldest son. + + + + +CHAPTER IV. + +CALAMITY. + + +Both Mary Erskine and Anne Sophia went on very pleasantly and +prosperously, each in her own way, for several years. Every spring +Albert cut down more trees, and made new openings and clearings. He +built barns and sheds about his house, and gradually accumulated quite +a stock of animals. With the money that he obtained by selling the +grain and the grass seed which he raised upon his land, he bought oxen +and sheep and cows. These animals fed in his pastures in the summer, +and in the winter he gave them hay from his barn. + +Mary Erskine used to take the greatest pleasure in getting up early +in the cold winter mornings, and going out with her husband to see +him feed the animals. She always brought in a large pile of wood every +night, the last thing before going to bed, and laid it upon the hearth +where it would be ready at hand for the morning fire. She also had a +pail of water ready, from the spring, and the tea-kettle by the side +of it, ready to be filled. The potatoes, too, which were to be roasted +for breakfast, were always prepared the night before, and placed in an +earthen pan, before the fire. Mary Erskine, in fact, was always very +earnest to make every possible preparation over night, for the work of +the morning. This arose partly from an instinctive impulse which made +her always wish, as she expressed it, "to do every duty as soon as it +came in sight," and partly from the pleasure which she derived from a +morning visit to the animals in the barn. She knew them all by name. +She imagined that they all knew her, and were glad to see her by +the light of her lantern in the morning. It gave her the utmost +satisfaction to see them rise, one after another, from their straw, +and begin eagerly to eat the hay which Albert pitched down to them +from the scaffold, while she, standing below upon the barn floor, held +the lantern so that he could see. She was always very careful to hold +it so that the cows and the oxen could see too. + +One day, when Albert came home from the village, he told Mary Erskine +that he had an offer of a loan of two hundred dollars, from Mr. Keep. +Mr. Keep was an elderly gentleman of the village,--of a mild and +gentle expression of countenance, and white hair. He was a man of +large property, and often had money to lend at interest. He had an +office, where he used to do his business. This office was in a wing of +his house, which was a large and handsome house in the center of the +village. Mr. Keep had a son who was a physician, and he used often to +ask his son's opinion and advice about his affairs. One day when Mr. +Keep was sitting in his office, Mr. Gordon came in and told him that +he had some plans for enlarging his business a little, and wished to +know if Mr. Keep had two or three hundred dollars that he would like +to lend for six months. Mr. Keep, who, though he was a very benevolent +and a very honorable man, was very careful in all his money dealings, +said that he would look a little into his accounts, and see how much +he had to spare, and let Mr. Gordon know the next day. + +That night Mr. Keep asked his son what he thought of lending Mr. +Gordon two or three hundred dollars. His son said doubtfully that he +did not know. He was somewhat uncertain about it. Mr. Gordon was doing +very well, he believed, but then his expenses were quite heavy, and it +was not quite certain how it would turn with him. Mr. Keep then said +that he had two or three hundred dollars on hand which he must dispose +of in some way or other, and he asked his son what he should do with +it. His son recommended that he should offer it to Albert. Albert +formerly lived at Mr. Keep's, as a hired man, so that Mr. Keep knew +him very well. + +"He is going on quite prosperously in his farm, I understand," said +the doctor. "His land is all paid for, and he is getting quite a stock +of cattle, and very comfortable buildings. I think it very likely that +he can buy more stock with the money, and do well with it. And, at all +events, you could not put the money in _safer_ hands." + +"I will propose it to him," said Mr. Keep. + +He did propose it to him that very afternoon, for it happened that +Albert went to the village that day. Albert told Mr. Keep that he was +very much obliged to him for the offer of the money, and that he would +consider whether it would be best for him to take it or not, and let +him know in the morning. So he told Mary Erskine of the offer that he +had had, as soon as he got home. + +"I am very glad to get such an offer," said Albert. + +"Shall you take the money?" said his wife. + +"I don't know," replied Albert. "I rather think not." + +"Then why are you glad to get the offer?" asked Mary Erskine. + +"Oh, it shows that my credit is good in the village. It must be very +good, indeed, to lead such a man as Mr. Keep to offer to lend me +money, of his own accord. It is a considerable comfort to know that I +can get money, whenever I want it, even if I never take it." + +"Yes," said Mary Erskine, "so it is." + +"And it is all owing to you," said Albert. + +"To me?" said Mary Erskine. + +"Yes," said he; "to your prudence and economy, and to your contented +and happy disposition. That is one thing that I always liked you +for. It is so easy to make you happy. There is many a wife, in your +situation, who could not have been happy unless their husband would +build them a handsome house and fill it with handsome furniture--even +if he had to go in debt for his land to pay for it." + +Mary Erskine did not reply, though it gratified her very much to hear +her husband commend her. + +"Well," said she at length, "I am very glad that you have got good +credit. What should you do with the money, if you borrowed it?" + +"Why, one thing that I could do," said Albert, "would be to build a +new house." + +"No," said Mary Erskine, "I like this house very much. I don't want +any other--certainly not until we can build one with our own money." + +"Then," said Albert, "I can buy more stock, and perhaps hire some +help, and get more land cleared this fall, so as to have greater crops +next spring, and then sell the stock when it has grown and increased, +and also the crops, and so get money enough to pay back the debt and +have something over." + +"Should you have much over?" asked Mary. + +"Why that would depend upon how my business turned out,--and that +would depend upon the weather, and the markets, and other things which +we can not now foresee. I think it probable that we should have a good +deal over." + +"Well," said Mary Erskine, "then I would take the money." + +"But, then, on the other hand," said Albert, "I should run some risk +of embarrassing myself, if things did not turn out well. If I were +to be sick, so that I could not attend to so much business, or if I +should Jose any of my stock, or if the crops should not do well, then +I might not get enough to pay back the debt." + +"And what should you do then?" asked Mary Erskine. + +"Why then," replied Albert, "I should have to make up the deficiency +in some other way. I might ask Mr. Keep to put off the payment of the +note, or I might borrow the money of somebody else to pay him, or I +might sell some of my other stock. I could do any of these things well +enough, but it would perhaps cause me some trouble and anxiety." + +"Then I would not take the money," said Mary Erskine. "I don't like +anxiety. I can bear any thing else better than anxiety." + +"However, I don't know any thing about it," continued Mary Erskine, +after a short pause. "You can judge best." + +They conversed on the subject some time longer, Albert being quite +at a loss to know what it was best to do. Mary Erskine, for her part, +seemed perfectly willing that he should borrow the money to buy more +stock, as she liked the idea of having more oxen, sheep, and cows. But +she seemed decidedly opposed to using borrowed money to build a new +house, or to buy new furniture. Her head would ache, she said, to lie +on a pillow of feathers that was not paid for. + +Albert finally concluded not to borrow the money, and so Mr. Keep lent +it to Mr. Gordon. + +Things went on in this way for about three or four years, and then +Albert began to think seriously of building another house. He had +now money enough of his own to build it with. His stock had become so +large that he had not sufficient barn room for his hay, and he did not +wish to build larger barns where he then lived, for in the course of +his clearings he had found a much better place for a house than the +one which they had at first selected. Then his house was beginning to +be too small for his family, for Mary Erskine had, now, two children. +One was an infant, and the other was about two years old. These +children slept in a trundle-bed, which was pushed under the great bed +in the daytime, but still the room became rather crowded. So Albert +determined to build another house. + +Mary Erskine was very much interested in this plan. She would like to +live in a handsome house as well as any other lady, only she preferred +to wait until she could have one of her own. Now that that time had +arrived, she was greatly pleased with the prospect of having her +kitchen, her sitting-room, and her bed-room, in three separate rooms, +instead of having them, as heretofore, all in one. Then the barns and +barn-yards, and the pens and sheds for the sheep and cattle, were all +going to be much more convenient than they had been; so that Albert +could take care of a greater amount of stock than before, with the +same labor. The new house, too, was going to be built in a much more +pleasant situation than the old one, and the road from it to the +corner was to be improved, so that they could go in and out with a +wagon. In a word, Mary Erskine's heart was filled with new hopes and +anticipations, as she saw before her means and sources of happiness, +higher and more extended than she had ever before enjoyed. + +When the time approached for moving into the new house Mary Erskine +occupied herself, whenever she had any leisure time, in packing up +such articles as were not in use. One afternoon while she was engaged +in this occupation, Albert came home from the field much earlier than +usual. Mary Erskine was very glad to see him, as she wished him to +nail up the box in which she had been packing her cups and saucers. +She was at work on the stoop, very near the door, so that she could +watch the children. The baby was in the cradle. The other child, whose +name was Bella, was playing about the floor. + +Albert stopped a moment to look at Mary Erskine's packing, and then +went in and took his seat upon the settle. + +"Tell me when your box is ready," said he, "and I will come and nail +it for you." + +Bella walked along toward her father--for she had just learned to +walk--and attempted to climb up into his lap. + +"Run away, Bella," said Albert. + +Mary Erskine was surprised to hear Albert tell Bella to run away, for +he was usually very glad to have his daughter come to him when he got +home from his work. She looked up to see what was the matter. He was +sitting upon the settle, and leaning his head upon his hand. + +Mary Erskine left her work and went to him. + +"Are you not well, Albert?" said she. + +"My head aches a little. It ached in the field, and that was the +reason why I thought I would come home. But it is better now. Are you +ready for me to come and nail the box?" + +"No," said Mary, "not quite; and besides, it is no matter about it +to-night. I will get you some tea." + +"No," said Albert, "finish your packing first, and I will come and +nail it. Then we can put it out of the way." + +Mary Erskine accordingly finished her packing, and Albert went to it, +to nail the cover on. He drove one or two nails, and then he put the +hammer down, and sat down himself upon the box, saying that he could +not finish the nailing after all. He was too unwell. He went into the +room, Mary Erskine leading and supporting him. She conducted him to +the bed and opened the curtains so as to let him lie down. She helped +him to undress himself, and then left him, a few minutes while she +began to get some tea. She moved the box, which she had been packing, +away from the stoop door, and put it in a corner. She drew out the +trundle-bed, and made, it ready for Bella. She sat down and gave Bella +some supper, and then put her into the trundle-bed, directing her to +shut up her eyes and go to sleep. Bella obeyed. + +Mary Erskine then went to the fire and made some tea and toast for +Albert, doing every thing in as quiet and noiseless a manner as +possible. When the tea and toast were ready she put them upon a small +waiter, and then moving her little work-table up to the side of the +bed, she put the waiter upon it. When every thing was thus ready, she +opened the curtains. Albert was asleep. + +He seemed however to be uneasy and restless, and he moaned now and +then as if in pain. Mary Erskine stood leaning over him for some time, +with a countenance filled with anxiety and concern. She then turned +away, saying to herself, "If Albert is going to be sick and to die, +what _will_ become of me?" She kneeled down upon the floor at +the foot of the bed, crossed her arms before her, laid them down very +quietly upon the counterpane, and reclined her forehead upon them. She +remained in that position for some time without speaking a word. + +Presently she rose and took the tea and toast upon the waiter, and +set them down by the fire in order to keep them warm. She next went to +look at the children, to see if they were properly covered. Then +she opened the bed-curtains a little way in order that she might see +Albert in case he should wake or move, and having adjusted them as she +wished, she went to the stoop door and took her seat there, with her +knitting-work in her hand, in a position from which, on one side she +could look into the room and observe every thing which took place +there, and on the other side, watch the road and see if any one went +by. She thought it probable that some of the workmen, who had been +employed at the new house, might be going home about that time, and +she wished to send into the village by them to ask Dr. Keep to come. + +Mary Erskine succeeded in her design of sending into the village by +one of the workmen, and Dr. Keep came about nine o'clock He prescribed +for Albert, and prepared, and left, some medicine for him. He said he +hoped that he was not going to be very sick, but he could tell better +in the morning when he would come again. + +"But you ought not to be here alone," said he to Mary Erskine. "You +ought to have some one with you." + +"No," said Mary Erskine, "I can get along very well, alone, +to-night,--and I think he will be better in the morning." + +Stories of sickness and suffering are painful to read, as the reality +is painful to witness. We will therefore shorten the tale of Mary +Erskine's anxiety and distress, by saying, at once that Albert grew +worse instead of better, every day for a fortnight, and then died. + +During his sickness Mrs. Bell spent a great deal of time at Mary +Erskine's house, and other persons, from the village, came every day +to watch with Albert, and to help take care of the children. There was +a young man also, named Thomas, whom Mary Erskine employed to come and +stay there all day, to take the necessary care of the cattle and of +the farm. They made a bed for Thomas in the scaffold in the barn. They +also made up a bed in the stoop, in a corner which they divided off +by means of a curtain. This bed was for the watchers, and for Mary +Erskine herself, when she or they wished to lie down. Mary Erskine +went to it, herself very seldom. She remained at her husband's bedside +almost all the time, day and night. Albert suffered very little +pain, and seemed to sleep most of the time. He revived a little the +afternoon before he died, and appeared as if he were going to be +better. He looked up into Mary Erskine's face and smiled. It was +plain, however, that he was very feeble. + +There was nobody but Mrs. Bell in the house, at that time, besides +Mary Erskine and the baby. Bella had gone to Mrs. Bell's house, and +Mary Bell was taking care of her. Albert beckoned his wife to come to +him, and said to her, in a faint and feeble voice, that he wished Mrs. +Bell to write something for him. Mary Erskine immediately brought her +work-table up to the bedside, opened the drawer, took out one of the +sheets of paper and a pen, opened the inkstand, and thus made every +thing ready for writing. Mrs. Bell took her seat by the table in such +a manner that her head was near to Albert's as it lay upon the pillow. + +"I am ready now," said Mrs. Bell. + +"I bequeath all my property,"--said Albert. + +Mrs. Bell wrote these words upon the paper, and then said, + +"Well: I have written that." + +"To Mary Erskine my wife," said Albert. + +"I have written that," said Mrs. Bell, a minute afterwards. + +"Now hand it to me to sign," said Albert. + +They put the paper upon a book, and raising Albert up in the bed, +they put the pen into his hand. He wrote his name at the bottom of the +writing at the right hand. Then moving his hand to the left, he wrote +the word '_witness_' under the writing on that side. His hand +trembled, but he wrote the word pretty plain. As he finished writing +it he told Mrs. Bell that she must sign her name as witness. When this +had been done he gave back the paper and the pen into Mary Erskine's +hand, and said that she must take good care of that paper, for it was +very important. He then laid his head down again upon the pillow and +shut his eyes. He died that night. + +Mary Erskine was entirely overwhelmed with grief, when she found that +all was over. In a few hours, however, she became comparatively calm, +and the next day she began to help Mrs. Bell in making preparations +for the funeral. She sent for Bella to come home immediately. Mrs. +Bell urged her very earnestly to take both the children, and go with +her to _her_ house, after the funeral, and stay there for a few +days at least, till she could determine what to do. + +"No," said Mary Erskine. "It will be better for me to come back here." + +"What do you think you shall do?" said Mrs. Bell. + +"I don't know," said Mary Erskine. "I can't even begin to think now. I +am going to wait a week before I try to think about it at all." + +"And in the mean time you are going to stay in this house." + +"Yes," said Mary Erskine, "I think that is best." + +"But you must not stay here alone," said Mrs. Bell. "I will come back +with you and stay with you, at least one night." + +"No," said Mary Erskine. "I have got to learn to be alone now, and +I may as well begin at once. I am very much obliged to you for all +your--" + +Here Mary Erskine's voice faltered, and she suddenly stopped. Mrs. +Bell pitied her with all her heart, but she said no more. She remained +at the house while the funeral procession was gone to the grave; and +some friends came back with Mary Erskine, after the funeral. They all, +however, went away about sunset, leaving Mary Erskine alone with her +children. + +As soon as her friends had gone, Mary Erskine took the children and +sat down in a rocking-chair, before the fire, holding them both in +her lap, the baby upon one side and Bella upon the other, and began to +rock back and forth with great rapidity. She kissed the children again +and again, with many tears, and sometimes she groaned aloud, in the +excess of her anguish. She remained sitting thus for half an hour. The +twilight gradually faded away. The flickering flame, which rose from +the fire in the fire-place, seemed to grow brighter as the daylight +disappeared, and to illuminate the whole interior of the room, so as +to give it a genial and cheerful expression. Mary Erskine gradually +became calm. The children, first the baby, and then Bella, fell +asleep. Finally Mary Erskine herself, who was by this time entirely +exhausted with watching, care, and sorrow, fell asleep too. Mary +Erskine slept sweetly for two full hours, and then was awaked by the +nestling of the baby. + +[Illustration: THE WIDOW AND THE FATHERLESS.] + +When Mary Erskine awoke she was astonished to find her mind perfectly +calm, tranquil, and happy. She looked down upon her children--Bella +asleep and the baby just awaking--with a heart full of maternal joy +and pleasure. Her room, it seemed to her, never appeared so bright and +cheerful and happy as then. She carried Bella to the bed and laid her +gently down in Albert's place, and then, going back to the fire, she +gave the baby the food which it required, and rocked it to sleep. +Her heart was resigned, and tranquil, and happy, She put the baby, at +length, into the cradle, and then, kneeling down, she thanked God with +her whole soul for having heard her prayer, and granted her the spirit +of resignation and peace. She then pushed open the curtains, and +reclined herself upon the bed, where she lay for some time, with a +peaceful smile upon her countenance, watching the flashing of a little +tongue, of flame, which broke out at intervals from the end of a brand +in the fire. After lying quietly thus, for a little while, she closed +her eyes, and gradually fell asleep again. + +She slept very profoundly. It was a summer night, although, as usual, +Mary Erskine had a fire. Clouds rose in the west, bringing with them +gusts of wind and rain. The wind and the rain beat against the window, +but they did not wake her. It thundered. The thunder did not wake her. +The shower passed over, and the sky became, serene again, while Mary +Erskine slept tranquilly on. At length the baby began to move in the +cradle. Mary Erskine heard the first sound that its nestling made, and +raised herself up suddenly. The fire had nearly gone out. There was +no flame, and the room was lighted only by the glow of the burning +embers. Mary Erskine was frightened to find herself alone. The +tranquillity and happiness which she had experienced a few hours ago +were all gone, and her mind was filled, instead, with an undefined and +mysterious distress and terror. She went to the fire-place and built +a new fire, for the sake of its company. She took the baby from the +cradle and sat down in the rocking-chair, determining not to go to +bed again till morning. She went to the window and looked out at the +stars, to see if she could tell by them how long it would be before +the morning would come. She felt afraid, though she knew not why, and +holding the baby in her arms, with its head upon her shoulder, she +walked back and forth across the room, in great distress and anguish, +longing for the morning to come. Such is the capriciousness of grief. + + + + +CHAPTER V. + +CONSULTATIONS. + + +Mrs. Bell went home on the evening of the funeral, very much exhausted +and fatigued under the combined effects of watching, anxiety, and +exertion. She went to bed, and slept very soundly until nearly +midnight. The thunder awaked her. + +She felt solitary and afraid. Mary Bell, who was then about nine years +old, was asleep in a crib, in a corner of the room. There was a little +night lamp, burning dimly on the table, and it shed a faint and dismal +gleam upon the objects around it. Every few minutes, however, the +lightning would flash into the windows and glare a moment upon the +walls, and then leave the room in deeper darkness than ever. The +little night lamp, whose feeble beam had been for the moment entirely +overpowered, would then gradually come out to view again, to diffuse +once more its faint illumination, until another flash of lightning +came to extinguish it as before. + +Mrs. Bell rose from her bed, and went to the crib to see if Mary Bell +was safe. She found her sleeping quietly. Mrs. Bell drew the crib out +a little way from the wall, supposing that she should thus put it into +a somewhat safer position. Then she lighted a large lamp. Then +she closed all the shutters of the room, in order to shut out the +lightning. Then she went to bed again, and tried to go to sleep. But +she could not. She was thinking of Mary Erskine, and endeavoring to +form some plan for her future life. She could not, however, determine +what it was best for her to do. + +In the morning, after breakfast, she sat down at the window, with her +knitting work in her hand, looking very thoughtful and sad. Presently +she laid her work down in her lap, and seemed lost in some melancholy +reverie. + +Mary Bell, who had been playing about the floor for some time, came +up to her mother, and seeing her look so thoughtful and sorrowful, she +said, + +"Mother, what is the matter with you?" + +"Why, Mary," said Mrs. Bell, in a melancholy tone, "I was thinking of +poor Mary Erskine." + +"Well, mother," said Mary Bell, "could not you give her a little +money, if she is poor? I will give her my ten cents." + +[Illustration: MRS. BELL.] + +Mary Bell had a silver piece of ten cents, which she kept in a little +box, in her mother's room up stairs. + +"Oh, she is not poor for want of money," said Mrs. Bell. "Her husband +made his will, before he died, and left her all his property." + +"Though I told Mr. Keep about it last night," continued Mrs. Bell, +talking half to herself and half to Mary, "and he said the will was +not good." + +"Not good," said Mary. "I think it is a very good will indeed. I am +sure Mary Erskine ought to have it all. Who should have it, if not +she?" + +"The children, I suppose," said her mother. + +"The children!" exclaimed Mary Bell. "Hoh! They are not half big +enough. They are only two babies; a great baby and a little one." + +Mrs. Bell did not answer this, nor did she seem to take much notice of +it, but took up her knitting again, and went on musing as before. Mary +Bell did not understand very well about the will. The case was this: + +The law, in the state where Mary Erskine lived, provided that when a +man died, as Albert had done, leaving a wife and children, and a farm, +and also stock, and furniture, and other such movable property, if +he made no will, the wife was to have a part of the property, and the +rest must be saved for the children, in order to be delivered to them, +when they should grow up, and be ready to receive it and use it. The +farm, when there was a farm, was to be kept until the children should +grow up, only their mother was to have one third of the benefit of +it,--that is, one third of the rent of it, if they could let it--until +the children became of age. The amount of the other two thirds was to +be kept for them. In respect to all movable property, such as stock +and tools, and furniture, and other things of that kind, since they +could not very conveniently be kept till the children were old enough +to use them, they were to be sold, and the wife was to have half the +value, and the children the other half. + +In respect to the children's part of all the property, they were +not, themselves, to have the care of it, but some person was to be +appointed to be their guardian. This guardian was to have the care of +all their share of the property, until they were of age, when it was +to be paid over into their hands. + +If, however, the husband, before his death, was disposed to do so, he +might make a will, and give all the property to whomsoever he pleased. +If he decided, as Albert had done, to give it all to his wife, then +it would come wholly under her control, at once. She would be under no +obligation to keep any separate account of the children's share, but +might expend it all herself, or if she were so inclined, she might +keep it safely, and perhaps add to it by the proceeds of her own +industry, and then, when the children should grow up, she might give +them as much as her maternal affection should dictate. + +In order that the property of men who die, should be disposed of +properly, according to law, or according to the will, if any will be +made, it is required that soon after the death of any person takes +place, the state of the case should be reported at a certain public +office, instituted to attend to this business. There is such an office +in every county in the New England states. It is called the Probate +office. The officer, who has this business in charge, is called the +Judge of Probate. There is a similar system in force, in all the +other states of the Union, though the officers are sometimes called by +different names from those which they receive in New England. + +Now, while Albert was lying sick upon his bed, he was occupied a great +deal of the time, while they thought that he was asleep, in thinking +what was to become of his wife and children in case he should die. +He knew very well that in case he died without making any will, his +property must be divided, under the direction of the Judge of Probate, +and one part of it be kept for the children, while Mary Erskine would +have the control only of the other part. This is a very excellent +arrangement in all ordinary cases, so that the law, in itself, is a +very good law. There are, however, some cases, which are exceptions, +and Albert thought that Mary Erskine's case was one. It was owing, +in a great measure, to her prudence and economy, to her efficient +industry, and to her contented and happy disposition, that he had been +able to acquire any property, instead of spending all that he earned, +like Mr. Gordon, as fast as he earned it. Then, besides, he knew +that Mary Erskine would act as conscientiously and faithfully for the +benefit of the children, if the property was all her own, as she +would if a part of it was theirs, and only held by herself, for safe +keeping, as their guardian. Whereas, if this last arrangement went +into effect, he feared that it would make her great trouble to keep +the accounts, as she could not write, not even to sign her name. He +determined, therefore, to make a will, and give all his property, of +every kind, absolutely to her. This he did, in the manner described in +the last chapter. + +The law invests every man with a very absolute power in respect to his +property, authorizing him to make any disposition of it whatever, and +carrying faithfully into effect, after his death, any wish that he may +have expressed in regard to it, as his deliberate and final intention. +It insists, however, that there should be evidence that the wish, so +expressed, is really a deliberate and final act. It is not enough that +the man should say in words what his wishes are. The will must be in +writing, and it must be signed; or if the sick man can not write, he +must make some mark with the pen, at the bottom of the paper, to stand +instead of a signature, and to show that he considers the act, which +he is performing, as a solemn and binding transaction. Nor will it do +to have the will executed in the presence of only one witness; for if +that were allowed, designing persons would sometimes persuade a sick +man, who was rich, to sign a will which they themselves had written, +telling him, perhaps, that it was only a receipt, or some other +unimportant paper, and thus inducing him to convey his property in a +way that he did not intend. The truth is, that there is necessity for +a much greater degree of precautionary form, in the execution of a +will, than in almost any other transaction; for as the man himself +will be dead and gone when the time comes for carrying the will into +effect,--and so can not give any explanation of his designs, it is +necessary to make them absolutely clear and certain, independently +of him. It was, accordingly, the law, in the state where Mary Erskine +lived, that there should be three witnesses present, when any person +signed a will; and also that when signing the paper, the man should +say that he knew that it was his will. If three credible persons thus +attested the reality and honesty of the transaction, it was thought +sufficient, in all ordinary cases, to make it sure. + +Albert, it seems, was not aware how many witnesses were required. When +he requested Mrs. Bell to sign his will, as witness, he thought that +he was doing all that was necessary to make it valid. When, however, +Mrs. Bell, afterwards, in going home, met Mr. Keep and related to +him the transaction, he said that he was afraid that the will was not +good, meaning that it would not stand in law. + +The thought that the will was probably not valid, caused Mrs. Bell a +considerable degree of anxiety and concern, as she imagined that its +failure would probably cause Mary Erskine a considerable degree of +trouble and embarrassment, though she did not know precisely how. She +supposed that the children's share of the property must necessarily be +kept separate and untouched until they grew up, and that in the mean +time their mother would have to work very hard in order to maintain +herself and them too. But this is not the law. The guardian of +children, in such cases, is authorized to expend, from the children's +share of property, as much as is necessary for their maintenance while +they are children; and it is only the surplus, if there is any, which +it is required of her to pay over to them, when they come of age. It +would be obviously unjust, in cases where children themselves have +property left them by legacy, or falling to them by inheritance, to +compel their father or mother to toil ten or twenty years to feed and +clothe them, in order that they might have their property, whole and +untouched, when they come of age. All that the law requires is +that the property bequeathed to children, or falling to them by +inheritance, shall always be exactly ascertained, and an account of it +put upon record in the Probate office: and then, that a guardian shall +be appointed, who shall expend only so much of it, while the children +are young, as is necessary for their comfortable support and proper +education; and then, when they come of age, if there is any surplus +left, that it shall be paid over to them. In Mary Erskine's case, +these accounts would, of course, cause her some trouble, but it would +make but little difference in the end. + +Mrs. Bell spent a great deal of time, during the day, in trying to +think what it would be best for Mary Erskine to do, and also in trying +to think what she could herself do for her. She, however, made very +little progress in respect to either of those points. It seemed to her +that Mary Erskine could not move into the new house, and attempt to +carry on the farm, and, on the other hand, it appeared equally out +of the question for her to remain where she was, in her lonesome log +cabin. She might move into the village, or to some house nearer the +village, but what should she do in that case for a livelihood. In a +word, the more that Mrs. Bell reflected upon the subject, the more at +a loss she was. + +She determined to go and see Mary Erskine after dinner, again, as the +visit would at least be a token of kindness and sympathy, even if it +should do no other good. She arrived at the house about the middle +of the afternoon. She found Mary Erskine busily at work, putting the +house in order, and rectifying the many derangements which sickness +and death always occasion. Mary Erskine received Mrs. Bell at first +with a cheerful smile, and seemed, to all appearance, as contented and +happy as usual. The sight of Mrs. Bell, however, recalled forcibly to +her mind her irremediable loss, and overwhelmed her heart, again, with +bitter grief. She went to the window, where her little work-table +had been placed, and throwing herself down in a chair before it, she +crossed her arms upon the table, laid her forehead down upon them in +an attitude of despair, and burst into tears. + +Mrs. Bell drew up toward her and stood by her side in silence. She +pitied her with all her heart, but she did not know what to say to +comfort her. + +Just then little Bella came climbing up the steps, from the stoop, +with some flowers in her hand, which she had gathered in the yard. As +soon as she had got up into the room she stood upon her feet and went +dancing along toward the baby, who was playing upon the floor, singing +as she danced. She gave the baby the flowers, and then, seeing that +her mother was in trouble, she came up toward the place and stood +still a moment, with a countenance expressive of great concern. She +put her arm around her mother's neck, saying in a very gentle and +soothing tone, + +"Mother! what is the matter, mother?" + +Mary Erskine liberated one of her arms, and clasped Bella with it +fondly, but did not raise her head, or answer. + +"Go and get some flowers for your mother," said Mrs. Bell, "like those +which you got for the baby." + +"Well," said Bella, "I will." So she turned away, and went singing and +dancing out of the room. + +"Mary," said Mrs. Bell. "I wish that you would shut up this house and +take the children and come to my house, at least for a while, until +you can determine what to do." + +Mary Erskine shook her head, but did not reply. She seemed, however, +to be regaining her composure. Presently she raised her head, smoothed +down her hair, which was very soft and beautiful, readjusted her +dress, and sat up, looking out at the window. + +"If you stay here," continued Mrs. Bell, "you will only spend your +time in useless and hopeless grief." + +"No," said Mary Erskine, "I am not going to do any such a thing." + +"Have you begun to think at all what you shall do?" asked Mrs. Bell. + +"No," said Mary Erskine. "When any great thing happens, I always have +to wait a little while till I get accustomed to knowing that it has +happened, before I can determine what to do about it. It seems as if +I did not more than half know yet, that Albert is dead. Every time the +door opens I almost expect to see him come in." + +"Do you think that you shall move to the new house?" asked Mrs. Bell. + +"No," said Mary Erskine, "I see that I can't do that. I don't wish to +move there, either, now." + +"There's one thing," continued Mrs. Bell after a moment's pause, "that +perhaps I ought to tell you, though it is rather bad news for you. Mr. +Keep says that he is afraid that the will, which Albert made, is not +good in law." + +"Not good! Why not?" asked Mary Erskine. + +"Why because there is only one witness The law requires that there +should be three witnesses, so as to be sure that Albert really signed +the will." + +"Oh no," said Mary Erskine. "One witness is enough, I am sure. The +Judge of Probate knows you, and he will believe you as certainly as he +would a dozen witnesses." + +"But I suppose," said Mrs. Bell, "that it does not depend upon the +Judge of Probate. It depends upon the law." + +Mary Erskine was silent. Presently she opened her drawer and took out +the will and looked at it mysteriously. She could not read a word of +it. + +"Read it to me, Mrs. Bell," said she, handing the paper to Mrs. Bell. + +Mrs. Bell read as follows: + + + "I bequeath all my property to my wife, Mary Erskine. Albert + Forester. Witness, Mary Bell." + + +"I am sure that is all right," said Mary Erskine. "It is very plain, +and one witness is enough. Besides, Albert would know how it ought to +be done." + +"But then," she continued after a moment's pause, "he was very sick +and feeble. Perhaps he did not think. I am sure I shall be very sorry +if it is not a good will, for if I do not have the farm and the stock, +I don't know what I shall do with my poor children." + +Mary Erskine had a vague idea that if the will should prove invalid, +she and her children would lose the property, in some way or other, +entirely,--though she did not know precisely how. After musing upon +this melancholy prospect a moment she asked, + +"Should not I have _any_ of the property, if the will proves not +to be good?" + +"Oh yes," said Mrs. Bell, "you will have a considerable part of it, at +any rate." + +"How much?" asked Mary Erskine. + +"Why about half, I believe," replied Mrs. Bell. + +"Oh," said Mary Erskine, apparently very much relieved. "That will +do very well. Half will be enough. There is a great deal of property. +Albert told me that the farm and the new house are worth five hundred +dollars, and the stock is worth full three hundred more. And Albert +does not owe any thing at all." + +"Well," said Mrs. Bell. "You will have half. Either half or a third, I +forget exactly which." + +"And what becomes of the rest?" asked Mary Erskine. + +"Why the rest goes to the children," said Mrs. Bell. + +"To the children!" repeated Mary Erskine. + +"Yes," said she, "you will have to be appointed guardian, and take +care of it for them, and carry in your account, now and then, to the +Judge of Probate." + +"Oh," said Mary Erskine, her countenance brightening up with an +expression of great relief and satisfaction. "That is just the same +thing. If it is to go to the children, and I am to take care of it for +them, it is just the same thing. I don't care any thing about the will +at all." + +So saying, she threw the paper down upon the table, as if it was of no +value whatever. + +"But there's one thing," she said again, after pausing a few minutes. +"I can't keep any accounts. I can not even write my name." + +"That is no matter," said Mrs. Bell. "There will be but little to +do about the accounts, and it is easy to get somebody to do that for +you." + +"I wish I had learned to write," said Mary Erskine. + +Mrs. Bell said nothing, but in her heart she wished so too. + +"Do you think that I could possibly learn now?" asked Mary Erskine. + +"Why,--I don't know,--perhaps, if you had any one to teach you." + +"Thomas might teach me, perhaps," said Mary Erskine, doubtfully. Then, +in a moment she added again, in a desponding tone,--"but I don't know +how long he will stay here." + +"Then you don't know at all yet," said Mrs. Bell, after a short pause, +"what you shall conclude to do." + +"No," replied Mary Erskine, "not at all. I am going on, just as I am +now, for some days, without perplexing myself at all about it. And I +am not going to mourn and make myself miserable. I am going to make +myself as contented and happy as I can, with my work and my children." + +Here Mary Erskine suddenly laid her head down upon her arms again, on +the little work-table before her, and burst into tears. After sobbing +convulsively a few minutes she rose, hastily brushed the tears away +with her handkerchief, and went toward the door. She then took the +water pail, which stood upon a bench near the door, and said that +she was going to get some water, at the spring, for tea, and that she +would be back in a moment. She returned very soon, with a countenance +entirely serene. + +"I have been trying all day," said Mrs. Bell, "to think of something +that I could do for you, to help you or to relieve you in some way or +other; but I can not think of any thing at all that I can do." + +"Yes," said Mary Erskine, "there is one thing that you could do +for me, that would be a very great kindness, a very great kindness +indeed." + +"What is it?" asked Mrs. Bell. + +"I am afraid that you will think it is too much for me to ask." + +"No," said Mrs. Bell, "what is it?" + +Mary Erskine hesitated a moment, and then said, + +"To let Mary Bell come and stay here with me, a few days." + +"Do you mean all night, too?" asked Mrs. Bell. + +"Yes," said Mary Erskine, "all the time." + +"Why, you have got two children to take care of now," replied Mrs. +Bell, "and nobody to help you. I should have thought that you would +have sooner asked me to take Bella home with me." + +"No," said Mary Erskine. "I should like to have Mary Bell here, very +much, for a few days." + +"Well," said Mrs. Bell, "she shall certainly come. I will send her, +to-morrow morning." + + + + +CHAPTER VI. + +MARY BELL IN THE WOODS. + + +Mary Erskine had a bible in her house, although she could not read +it. When Albert was alive he was accustomed to read a chapter every +evening, just before bed-time, and then he and Mary Erskine would +kneel down together, by the settle which stood in the corner, while he +repeated his evening prayer. This short season of devotion was always +a great source of enjoyment to Mary Erskine. If she was tired and +troubled, it soothed and quieted her mind. If she was sorrowful, it +comforted her. If she was happy, it seemed to make her happiness more +deep and unalloyed. + +Mary Erskine could not read the bible, but she could repeat a +considerable number of texts and verses from it, and she knew, too, +the prayer, which Albert had been accustomed to offer, almost by +heart. So after Mrs. Bell had gone home, as described in the last +chapter, and after she herself had undressed the children and put them +to bed, and had finished all the other labors and duties of the day, +she took the bible down from its shelf, and seating herself upon the +settle, so as to see by the light of the fire, as Albert had been +accustomed to do, she opened the book, and then began to repeat such +verses as she could remember. At length she closed the book, and +laying it down upon the seat of the settle, in imitation of Albert's +custom, she kneeled down before it, and repeated the prayer. The use +of the bible itself, in this service, was of course a mere form:--but +there is sometimes a great deal of spiritual good to be derived from +a form, when the heart is in it, to give it meaning and life. Mary +Erskine went to bed comforted and happy; and she slept peacefully +through each one of the three periods of repose, into which the care +of an infant by a mother usually divides the night. + +In the morning, the first thought which came into her mind was, that +Mary Bell was coming to see her. She anticipated the visit from her +former charge with great pleasure. She had had Mary Bell under her +charge from early infancy, and she loved her, accordingly, almost as +much as if she were her own child. Besides, as Mary Bell had grown up +she had become a very attractive and beautiful child, so kind to all, +so considerate, so gentle, so active and intelligent, and at the +same time so docile, and so quiet, that she was a universal favorite +wherever she went. Mary Erskine was full of joy at the idea of having +her come and spend several days and nights too, at her house, and she +was impatient for the time to arrive when she might begin to expect +her. At eight o'clock, she began to go often to the door to look down +the road. At nine, she began to feel uneasy. At ten, she put on +her hood and went down the road, almost to the corner, to meet +her--looking forward intensely all the way, hoping at every turn to +see her expected visitor advancing along the path. She went on thus +until she came in sight of the corner, without seeing or hearing any +thing of Mary Bell; and then she was compelled to return home alone, +disappointed and sad. She waited dinner from twelve until one, but +no Mary Bell appeared. Mary Erskine then concluded that something had +happened to detain her expected visitor at home, and that she might +be disappointed of the visit altogether. Still she could not but hope +that Mary would come in the course of the afternoon. The hours of +the afternoon, however, passed tediously away, and the sun began to +decline toward the west; still there was no Mary Bell. The cause of +her detention will now be explained. + +When Mary Bell came down to breakfast, on the morning after her +mother's visit to Mary Erskine, her mother told her, as she came +into the room, that she had an invitation for her to go out to Mary +Erskine's that day. + +"And may I go?" asked Mary Bell. + +"Yes," said her mother, "I think I shall let you go." + +"I am _so_ glad!" said Mary Bell, clapping her hands. + +"Mary Erskine wishes to have you stay there several days," continued +her mother. + +Mary Bell began to look a little sober again. She was not quite sure +that she should be willing to be absent from her mother, for so many +days. + +"Could not I come home every night?" said she. + +"Why, she wishes," answered Mrs. Bell, "to have you stay there all the +time, day and night, for several days. It is an opportunity for you +to do some good. You could not do Mary Erskine any good by giving her +your money, for she has got plenty of money; nor by carrying her any +thing good to eat, for her house is full of abundance, and she knows +as well how to make good things as any body in town. But you can do +her a great deal of good by going and staying with her, and keeping +her company. Perhaps you can help her a little, in taking care of the +children." + +"Well," said Mary Bell, "I should like to go." + +So Mrs. Bell dressed Mary neatly, for the walk, gave her a very small +tin pail, with two oranges in it for Mary Erskine's children, and then +sent out word to the hired man, whose name was Joseph, to harness the +horse into the wagon. When the wagon was ready, she directed Joseph to +carry Mary to the corner, and see that she set out upon the right road +there, toward Mary Erskine's house. It was only about half a mile +from the corner to the house, and the road, though crooked, stony, and +rough, was very plain, and Mary Bell had often walked over it alone. + +There was, in fact, only one place where there could be any danger +of Mary Bell's losing her way, and that was at a point about midway +between the corner and Mary Erskine's house, where a road branched off +to the right, and led into the woods. There was a large pine-tree at +this point, which Mary Bell remembered well; and she knew that she +must take the left-hand road when she reached this tree. There were +various little paths, at other places, but none that could mislead +her. + +When Joseph, at length, set Mary Bell down in the path at the corner, +she stood still, upon a flat rock by the side of the road, to see him +turn the wagon and set out upon his return. + +"Good-bye, Joseph," said she. "I am going to be gone several days." + +"Good-bye," said Joseph, turning to look round at Mary Bell, as the +wagon slowly moved away. + +"Bid mother good-bye," said Mary Bell,--"and Joseph, don't you forget +to water my geranium." + +"No," said Joseph, "and don't you forget to take the left-hand road." + +"No," said Mary Bell. + +She felt a slight sensation of lonesomeness, to be left there in +solitude at the entrance of a dark and somber wood, especially when +she reflected that it was to be several days before she should see her +mother again. But then, calling up to her mind a vivid picture of Mary +Erskine's house, and of the pleasure that she should enjoy there, in +playing with Bella and the baby, she turned toward the pathway into +the woods, and walked resolutely forward, swinging her pail in her +hand and singing a song. + +There were a great many birds in the woods; some were hopping about +upon the rocks and bushes by the road-side. Others were singing in +solitary places, upon the tops of tall trees in the depths of the +forest, their notes being heard at intervals, in various directions, +as if one was answering another, to beguile the solemn loneliness of +the woods. The trees were very tall, and Mary Bell, as she looked up +from her deep and narrow pathway, and saw the lofty tops rocking to +and fro with a very slow and gentle motion, as they were waved by the +wind, it seemed to her that they actually touched the sky. + +At one time she heard the leaves rustling, by the side of the road, +and looking in under the trees, she saw a gray squirrel, just in the +act of leaping up from the leaves upon the ground to the end of a log. +As soon as he had gained this footing, he stopped and looked round at +Mary Bell. Mary Bell stopped too; each looked at the other for several +seconds, in silence,--the child with an expression of curiosity and +pleasure upon her countenance, and the squirrel with one of wonder and +fear upon his. Mary Bell made a sudden motion toward him with her hand +to frighten him a little. It did frighten him. He turned off and ran +along the log as fast as he could go, until he reached the end of it, +and disappeared. + +"Poor Bobbin," said Mary Bell, "I am sorry that I frightened you +away." + +A few steps farther on in her walk, Mary Bell came to a place where +a great number of yellow butterflies had settled down together in the +path. Most of them were still, but a few were fluttering about, to +find good places. + +"Oh, what pretty butterflies!" said Mary Bell. "They have been flying +about, I suppose, till they have got tired, and have stopped to rest. +But if I were a butterfly, I would rest upon flowers, and not upon the +ground." + +Mary Bell paused and looked upon the butterflies a moment, and then +said, + +"And now how shall I get by? I am sure I don't want to tread upon +those butterflies. I will sit down here, myself, on a stone, and wait +till they get rested and fly away. Besides, I am tired myself, and +_I_ shall get rested too." + +Just as she took her seat she saw that there was a little path, which +diverged here from the main road, and turned into the woods a little +way, seeming to come back again after a short distance. There were +many such little paths, here and there, running parallel to the main +road. They were made by the cows, in the spring of the year when the +roads were wet, to avoid the swampy places. These places were now all +dry, and the bye-paths were consequently of no use, though traces of +them remained. + +"No," said Mary Bell. "I will not stop to rest; I am not very tired; +so I will go around by this little path. It will come into the road +again very soon." + +Mary Bell's opinion would have been just, in respect to any other path +but this one; but it so happened, very unfortunately for her, that +now, although not aware of it, she was in fact very near the great +pine-tree, where the road into the woods branched off, and the path +which she was determining to take, though it commenced in the main +road leading to Mary Erskine's, did not return to it again, but after +passing, by a circuitous and devious course, through the bushes a +little way, ended in the branch road which led into the woods, at a +short distance beyond the pine-tree. + +Mary Bell was not aware of this state of things, but supposed, without +doubt, that the path would come out again into the same road that +it left, and that, she could pass round through it, and so avoid +disturbing the butterflies. She thought, indeed, it might possibly be +that the path would not come back at all, but would lose itself in +the woods; and to guard against this danger, she determined that after +going on for a very short distance, if she found that it did not come +out into the road again, she would come directly back. The idea of +its coming out into a wrong road did not occur to her mind as a +possibility. + +She accordingly entered the path, and after proceeding in it a little +way she was quite pleased to see it coming out again into what she +supposed was the main road. Dismissing, now, all care and concern, she +walked forward in a very light-hearted and happy manner. The road +was very similar in its character to the one which she ought to have +taken, so that there was nothing in the appearances around her to lead +her to suppose that she was wrong. She had, moreover, very little idea +of measures of time, and still less of distance, and thus she went on +for more than an hour before she began to wonder why she did not get +to Mary Erskine's. + +She began to suspect, then, that she had in some way or other lost +the right road. She, however, went on, looking anxiously about for +indications of an approach to the farm, until at length she saw signs +of an opening in the woods, at some distance before her. She concluded +to go on until she came to this opening, and if she could not tell +where she was by the appearance of the country there, she would go +back again by the road she came. + +The opening, when she reached it, appeared to consist of a sort of +pasture land, undulating in its surface, and having thickets of +trees and bushes scattered over it, here and there. There was a small +elevation in the land, at a little distance from the place where Mary +Bell came out, and she thought that she would go to the top of +this elevation, and look for Mary Erskine's house, all around. She +accordingly did so, but neither Mary Erskine's house nor any other +human habitation was anywhere to be seen. + +She sat down upon a smooth stone, which was near her, feeling tired +and thirsty, and beginning to be somewhat anxious in respect to her +situation. She thought, however, that there was no great danger, for +her mother would certainly send Joseph out into the woods to find her, +as soon as she heard that she was lost. She concluded, at first, to +wait where she was until Joseph should come, but on second thoughts, +she concluded to go back by the road which had led her to the opening, +and so, perhaps meet him on the way. She was very thirsty, and wished +very much that one of the oranges in the pail belonged to her, for she +would have liked to eat one very much indeed. But they were not either +of them hers. One belonged to Bella, and the other to the baby. + +She walked back again to the woods, intending to return toward the +corner, by the road in which she came, but now she could not find the +entrance to it. She wandered for some time, this way and that, along +the margin of the wood, but could find no road. She, however, at +length found something which she liked better. It was a beautiful +spring of cool water, bubbling up from between the rocks on the side +of a little hill. She sat down by the side of this spring, took off +the cover from her little pail, took out the oranges and laid them +down carefully in a little nook where they would not roll away, and +then using the pail for a dipper, she dipped up some water, and had an +excellent drink. + +"What a good spring this is!" said she to herself. "It is as good as +Mary Erskine's." + +It was the time of the year in which raspberries were ripe, and Mary +Bell, in looking around her from her seat near the spring, saw at +a distance a place which appeared as if there were raspberry bushes +growing there. + +"I verily believe that there are some raspberries," said she. "I will +go and see; if I could only find plenty of raspberries, it would be +all that I should want." + +The bushes proved to be raspberry bushes, as Mary had supposed, and +she found them loaded with fruit. She ate of them abundantly, and was +very much refreshed. She would have filled her pail besides, so as +to have some to take along with her, but she had no place to put the +oranges, except within the pail. + +It was now about noon; the sun was hot, and Mary Bell began to be +pretty tired. She wished that they would come for her. She climbed up +upon a large log which lay among the bushes, and called as loud as she +could, + +"_Mary Erskine! Mary Erskine!_" + +Then after pausing a moment, and listening in vain for an answer, she +renewed her call, + + + "_Thom--as! Thom--as!_" + + Then again, after another pause, + + "_Jo--seph! Jo--seph!_" + + +She listened a long time, but heard nothing except the singing of the +birds, and the sighing of the wind upon the tops of the trees in the +neighboring forests. + +She began to feel very anxious and very lonely. She descended from the +log, and walked along till she got out of the bushes. She came to a +place where there were rocks, with smooth surfaces of moss and grass +among them. She found a shady place among these rocks, and sat down +upon the moss. She laid her head down upon her arm and began to weep +bitterly. + +Presently she raised her head again, and endeavored to compose +herself, saying, + +"But I must not cry. I must be patient, and wait till they come. I am +very tired, but I must not go to sleep, for then I shall not hear +them when they come. I will lay my head down, but I will keep my eyes +open." + +She laid her head down accordingly upon a mossy mound, and +notwithstanding her resolution to keep her eyes open, in ten minutes +she was fast asleep. + +She slept very soundly for more than two hours. She was a little +frightened when she awoke, to find that she had been sleeping, and she +started up and climbed along upon a rock which was near by, until she +gained a projecting elevation, and here she began to listen again. + +She heard the distant tinkling of a bell. + +"Hark," said she. "I hear a bell. It is out _that_ way. I wonder +what it is. I will go there and see." + +So taking up her pail very carefully, she walked along in the +direction where she had heard the bell. She stopped frequently to +listen. Sometimes she could hear it, and sometimes she could not. +She, however, steadily persevered, though she encountered a great many +obstacles on the way. Sometimes there were wet places, which it was +very hard to get round. At other times, there were dense thickets, +which she had to scramble through, or rocks over which she had to +climb, either up or down. The sound, however, of the bell, came nearer +and nearer. + +"I verily believe," said she at length, "that it is Queen Bess." + +Queen Bess was one of Mary Erskine's cows. + +The idea that the sound which she was following might possibly be +Queen Bess's bell, gave her great courage. She was well acquainted +with Queen Bess, having often gone out to see Mary Erskine milk +her, with the other cows. She had even tried many times to milk her +herself, Mary Erskine having frequently allowed her to milk enough, in +a mug, to provide herself with a drink. + +"I hope it is Queen Bess," said Mary Bell. "She knows me, and she will +give me a drink of her milk, I am sure." + +Mary Bell proved to be right in her conjecture. It was Queen Bess. She +was feeding very quietly, Mary Erskine's other cows being near, some +cropping the grass and some browsing upon the bushes. Queen Bess +raised her head and looked at Mary Bell with a momentary feeling of +astonishment, wondering how she came there, and then put down her head +again and resumed her feeding. + +"Now," said Mary Bell, "I shall certainly get home again, for I shall +stay with you until Thomas comes up after the cows. He will find you +by your bell. And now I am going to put these oranges down upon the +grass, and milk some milk into this pail." + +So Mary Bell put the oranges in a safe place upon the grass, and then +went cautiously up to the side of the cow, and attempted to milk +her. But it is very difficult to milk a cow while she is grazing in +a pasture. She is not inclined to stand still, but advances all the +time, slowly, step by step, making it very difficult to do any thing +at milking. Mary Bell, however, succeeded very well. She was so +thirsty that she did not wait to get a great deal at a time, but as +soon as she had two or three spoonfuls in the pail, she stopped to +drink it. In this manner, by dint of a great deal of labor and pains, +she succeeded, in about a quarter of an hour, in getting as much as +she wanted. + +[Illustration: MARY BELL AND QUEEN BESS.] + +She remained in company with the cows all the afternoon. Sometimes she +would wander from them a little way to gather raspberries, and then +she would creep up cautiously to Queen Bess, and get another drink of +milk. When she had thus had as many raspberries, and as much milk, as +she wished, she amused herself for some time in gathering a bouquet +of wild flowers to give to Mary Erskine on her return. The time, being +thus filled up with useful occupation, passed pleasantly and rapidly +along, and at length, when the sun was nearly ready to go down, she +heard a distant voice shouting to the cows. It was Thomas, coming to +drive them home. + +Thomas was of course greatly astonished to find Mary Bell in the +woods, and his astonishment was not at all diminished at hearing her +story. He offered to carry her, in going home,--but she said that +she was not tired, and could walk as well as not. So they went down +together, the cows running along before them in the paths. When they +reached the house, Thomas went to turn the cows into the yard, while +Mary Bell went into the house to Mary Erskine, with her little pail in +one hand, and her bouquet of flowers in the other. + + + + +CHAPTER VII. + +HOUSE-KEEPING. + + +One of the greatest pleasures which Mary Bell enjoyed, in her visits +at Mary Erskine's at this period, was to assist in the house-keeping. +She was particularly pleased with being allowed to help in getting +breakfast or tea, and in setting the table. + +She rose accordingly very early on the morning after her arrival +there from the woods, as described in the last chapter, and put on +the working-dress which Mary Erskine had made for her, and which was +always kept at the farm. This was not the working-dress which was +described in a preceding chapter as the one which Mary Bell used to +play in, when out among the stumps. Her playing among the stumps was +two or three years before the period which we are now describing. +During those two or three years, Mary Bell had wholly outgrown her +first working-dress, and her mind had become improved and enlarged, +and her tastes matured more rapidly even than her body had grown. + +She now no longer took any pleasure in dabbling in the brook, or +planting potatoes in the sand,--or in heating sham ovens in stumps and +hollow trees. She had begun to like realities. To bake a real cake for +breakfast or tea, to set a real table with real cups and saucers, for +a real and useful purpose, or to assist Mary Erskine in the care of +the children, or in making the morning arrangements in the room, gave +her more pleasure than any species of child's play could possibly +do. When she went out now, she liked to be dressed neatly, and take +pleasant walks, to see the views or to gather flowers. In a word, +though she was still in fact a child, she began to have in some degree +the tastes and feelings of a woman. + +"What are you going to have for breakfast?" said Mary Bell to Mary +Erskine, while they were getting up. + +"What should you like?" asked Mary Erskine in reply. + +"Why I should like some roast potatoes, and a spider cake," said Mary +Bell. + +The spider cake received its name from being baked before the fire +in a flat, iron vessel, called a spider. The spider was so called +probably, because, like the animal of that name, it had several legs +and a great round body. The iron spider, however, unlike its living +namesake, had a long straight tail, which, extending out behind, +served for a handle. + +The spider cake being very tender and nice, and coming as it usually +did, hot upon the table, made a most excellent breakfast,--though this +was not the principal reason which led Mary Bell to ask for it. She +liked to _make_ the spider cake; for Mary Erskine, after mixing +and preparing the material, used to allow Mary Bell to roll it out to +its proper form, and put it into the spider. Then more than all the +rest, Mary Bell liked to _bake_ a spider cake. She used to +take great pleasure in carrying the cake in her two hands to the +fire-place, and laying it carefully in its place in the spider, and +then setting it up before the fire to bake, lifting the spider by +the end of the tail. She also took great satisfaction afterward in +watching it, as the surface which was presented toward the fire became +browned by the heat. When it was sufficiently baked upon one side it +had to be turned, and then set up before the fire again, to be baked +on the other side; and every part of the long operation was always +watched by Mary Bell with great interest and pleasure. + +Mary Erskine consented to Mary Bell's proposal in respect to +breakfast, and for an hour Mary Bell was diligently employed in making +the preparations. + +[Illustration: MARY BELL GETTING BREAKFAST.] + +She put the potatoes in the bed which Mary Erskine opened for them in +the ashes. She rolled out the spider cake, and put it into the spider; +she spread the cloth upon the table, and took down the plates, and +the cups and saucers from the cupboard, and set them in order on the +table. She went down into the little cellar to bring up the butter. +She skimmed a pan of milk to get the cream, she measured out the tea; +and at last, when all else was ready, she took a pitcher and went +down to the spring to bring up a pitcher of cool water. In all these +operations Bella accompanied her, always eager to help, and Mary Bell, +knowing that it gave Bella great pleasure to have something to do, +called upon her, continually, for her aid, and allowed her to do +every thing that it was safe to entrust to her. Thus they went on very +happily together. + +At length, when the breakfast was ready they all sat down around the +table to eat it, except the baby. He remained in the trundle-bed, +playing with his play-things. His play-things consisted of three or +four smooth pebble stones of different colors, each being of about the +size of an egg, which his mother had chosen for him out of the +brook, and also of a short piece of bright iron chain. The chain was +originally a part of a harness, but the harness had become worn out, +and Albert had brought in the chain and given it to the baby. The baby +liked these play-things very much indeed,--both the pebbles and the +chain. When he was well, and neither hungry nor sleepy, he was never +tired of playing with them,--trying to bite them, and jingling them +together. + +"Now," said Mary Erskine to the children, as they were sitting at the +table, at the close of the breakfast, and after Thomas had gone away, +"you may go out and play for an hour while I finish my morning work, +and put the baby to sleep, and then I want you to come in and have a +school." + +"Who shall be the teacher?" said Mary Bell. + +"You shall be _one_," said Mary Erskine. + +"Are you going to have two teachers?" asked Mary Bell. "If you do, +then we can't have any scholars;--for the baby is not old enough to go +to school." + +"I know it," said Mary Erskine, "but we can have three scholars +without him." + +"Who shall they be?" asked Mary Bell. + +"You and I, and Bella," answered Mary Erskine. "I will tell you what +my plan is. I expect that I shall conclude to stay here, and live in +this house alone for some years to come, and the children can not go +to school, for there is now nobody to take them, and it is too far for +them to go alone. I must teach them myself at home, or else they can +not learn. I am very sorry indeed now that I did not learn to read and +write when I was a child: for that would have saved me the time and +trouble of learning now. But I think I _can_ learn now. Don't you +think I can, Mary?" + +"Oh, yes, indeed," said Mary Bell, "I am sure you can. It is very easy +to read." + +"I am going to try," continued Mary Erskine, "and so I want you to +teach me. And while you are teaching me, Bella may as well begin at +the same time. So that you will have two scholars." + +"Three--you said three scholars," rejoined Mary Bell. + +"Yes," said Mary Erskine. "You shall be the third scholar. I am going +to teach you to draw." + +"Do you know how to draw?" asked Mary Bell, surprised. + +"No," said Mary Erskine, "but I can show _you_ how to learn." + +"Well," said Mary Bell, "I should like to learn to draw very much +indeed. Though I don't see how any body can teach a thing unless they +can do it themselves." + +"Sometimes they can," said Mary Erskine. "A man may teach a horse to +canter, without being able to canter himself." + +Mary Bell laughed at the idea of a man attempting to canter, and said +that she should be very glad to try to learn to draw. Mary Erskine +then said that after they had finished their breakfast the children +might go out an hour to walk and play, and that then when they should +come in, they would find every thing ready for the school. + +Mary Bell concluded to take a walk about the farm during the time +which they were allowed to spend in play, before the school was to +begin. So she and Bella put on their bonnets, and bidding Mary Erskine +good morning, they sallied forth. As they came out at the great stoop +door their attention was arrested by the sound of a cow-bell. The +sound seemed to come from the barn-yard. + +"Ah," said Mary Bell, "there is Queen Bess going to pasture this +morning. How glad I was to see her yesterday in the woods! Let us go +and see her now." + +So saying she led the way around the corner of the house, by a +pleasant path through the high grass that was growing in the yard, +toward the barns. Bella followed her. They passed through a gate, then +across a little lane, then through a gate on the other side of the +lane, which led into the barn-yards. The barns, like the house, were +built of logs, but they were very neatly made, and the yards around +them were at this season of the year dry and green. + +Mary and Bella walked on across the barn-yard until they got to the +back side of the barn, when they found Thomas turning the cows into a +little green lane which led to the pasture. It was not very far to the +pasture bars, and so Mary Bell proposed that they should go and help +Thomas drive the cows. They accordingly went on, but they had not gone +far before they came to a brook, which here flowed across the lane. +The cows walked directly through the brook, while Thomas got across it +by stepping over some stones at one side. Mary Bell thought that the +spaces were a little too wide for Bella to jump over, so she concluded +not to go any farther in that direction. + +Bella then proposed that they should go and see the new house. This +Mary Bell thought would be an excellent plan if Bella's mother would +give them leave. They accordingly went in to ask her. They found her +in the back stoop, employed in straining the milk which Thomas had +brought in. She was straining it into great pans. She said that she +should like to have the children go and see the new house very much +indeed, and she gave them the key, so that they might go into it. The +children took the key and went across the fields by a winding path +until they came out into the main road again, near the new house. The +house was in a very pleasant place indeed. There was a green yard in +front of it, and a place for a garden at one side. At the other side +was a wide yard open to the road, so that persons could ride up to the +door without the trouble of opening any gate. The children walked up +this open yard. + +They went to the door, intending to unlock it with their key, but they +were surprised to find that there was not any key hole. Mary Bell said +that she supposed the key hole was not made yet. They tried to open +the door, but they could not succeed. It was obviously fastened on the +inside. + +"Now how can we get in?" said Bella. + +"I don't see," replied Mary Bell, "and I can't think how they locked +the door without any key-hole." + +"Could not we climb in at one of the windows?" said Mary Bell,--"only +they are so high up!" + +The children looked around at the windows. They were all too high +from the ground for them to reach. There was, however, a heap of short +blocks and boards which the carpenters had left in the yard near the +house, and Mary Bell said that perhaps they could build up a "climbing +pile" with them, so as to get in at a window. She accordingly went to +this heap, and by means of considerable exertion and toil she rolled +two large blocks--the ends of sticks of timber which the carpenters +had sawed off in framing the house--up under the nearest window. +She placed these blocks, which were about two feet long, at a little +distance apart under the window, with one end of each block against +the house. She then, with Bella's help, got some short boards from +the pile, and placed them across these blocks from one to the other, +making a sort of a flooring. + +"There," said Mary Bell, looking at the work with great satisfaction, +"that is _one_ story." + +Then she brought two more blocks, and laid them upon the flooring over +the first two, placing the second pair of blocks, like the first, at +right angles to the house, and with the ends close against it to +keep them steady. On these blocks she laid a second flooring of short +boards, which made the second story. She then stepped up upon the +staging which she had thus built, to see if it was steady. It was very +steady indeed. + +"Let _me_ get up on it," said Bella. + +Bella accordingly climbed up, and she and Mary Bell danced upon it +together in great glee for some time to show how steady it was. + +Mary Bell then attempted to open the window. She found that she could +open it a little way, but not far enough to get in. So she said that +she must make one more "story." They then both went back to the pile, +and got two more blocks and another board to lay across upon the top +of them for a flooring, and when these were placed, Mary Bell found +that she could raise the window very high. She got a long stick to put +under it to hold it up, and then tried to climb in. + +She found, however, that the window sill over which she was to climb +was still rather too high; but, at length, after various consultations +and experiments, _Bella_ succeeded in getting up by means of the +help which Mary Bell, who was large and strong, gave her, by "boosting +her," as she called it, that is, pushing her up from below while she +climbed by means of her arms clasped over the window sill above. Bella +being thus in the house, took the key, which Mary Bell handed her for +the purpose, and went along to the entry to unlock the door, while +Mary Bell, stepping down from the scaffolding, went to the door on the +outside, ready to enter when it should be opened. The children had no +doubt that there was a key-hole in the lock on the inside, although +there was none made in the door on the outside. + +When, however, Bella reached the door on the inside, she called out +to Mary Bell, through the door, to say that she could not find any +key-hole. + +"It is in the lock," said Mary Bell. + +"But there is not any lock," said Bella. + +"Is not there any thing?" asked Mary Bell. + +"Yes," said Bella, "there is a bolt." + +"Oh, very well, then, open the bolt," replied Mary Bell. + +After a great deal of tugging and pushing at the bolt, Bella succeeded +in getting it back, but even then the door would not come open. It +was new, and it fitted very tight. Bella said that Mary Bell must push +from the outside, while she held up the latch. Mary Bell accordingly +pushed with all her force, and at length the door flew open, and to +their great joy they found themselves both fairly admitted to the +house. + +They rambled about for some time, looking at the different rooms, +and at the various conveniences for house-keeping which Albert had +planned, and which were all just ready for use when Albert had died. +There was a sink in the kitchen, with a little spout leading into it, +from which the water was running in a constant stream. It came from +an aqueduct of logs brought under ground. There was a tin dipper there +upon the top of the post which the water-spout came out of, and Mary +Bell and Bella had an excellent drink from it the first thing. The +kitchen floor was covered with shavings, and the children played in +them for some time, until they were tired. Then they went and got +another drink. + +When they at last got tired of the kitchen, they went to a window at +the back side of the sitting-room, which looked out toward the garden, +and commanded also a beautiful prospect beyond. They opened this +window in order to see the garden better. A fresh and delightful +breeze came in immediately, which the children enjoyed very much. +The breeze, however, in drawing through the house, shut all the doors +which the children had left open, with a loud noise, and then having +no longer any egress, it ceased to come in. The air seemed suddenly to +become calm; the children stood for some time at the window, looking +out at the garden, and at the pond, and the mountains beyond. + +At length they shut the window again, and went to the door at which +they had entered, and found it shut fast. They could not open it, +for there was now no one to push upon the outside. Mary Bell laughed. +Bella looked very much frightened. + +"What shall we do?" said she. "We can't get out." + +"Oh, don't be afraid," said Mary Bell, "we will get out some way or +other." + +She then tried again to open the door, exerting all her strength in +pulling upon the latch, but all in vain. They were finally obliged to +give up the attempt as utterly hopeless. + +Mary Bell then led the way to the window where Bella had got in, and +looked out upon the little scaffolding. It looked as if the window was +too high above the scaffolding for them to get down there safely. One +of them might, perhaps, have succeeded in descending, if the other had +been outside to help her down; but as it was, Mary Bell herself did +not dare to make the attempt. + +"I will tell you what we will do," said Mary Bell. "We will go to +another window where there are no blocks below, and throw all the +shavings out from the kitchen. That will make a soft bed for us to +jump upon." + +"Well," said Bella, "let us do that." + +So they went to the kitchen, and opening one of the windows, they +began to gather up the shavings in their arms from off the floor, and +to throw them out. They worked very industriously at this undertaking +for a long time, until the kitchen floor was entirely cleared. They +picked out carefully all the sticks, and blocks, and pieces of board +which were mixed with the shavings, before throwing them out, in order +that there might be nothing hard in the heap which they were to jump +upon. When the work was completed, and all the shavings were out, they +went to the window, and leaning over the sill, they looked down. + +"I wish we had some more shavings," said Mary Bell. + +"Yes," said Bella, "that is too far to jump down. We can't get out any +way at all." So saying, she began to cry. + +"Don't cry, Bella," said Mary Bell, in a soothing tone. "It is no +matter if we can't get out, for your mother knows that we came here, +and if we don't come home in an hour, she will come for us and let us +out." + +"But perhaps there is a ladder somewhere," added Mary Bell, after a +short pause. "Perhaps we can find a ladder that the carpenters have +left somewhere about. If there is, we can put it out the window, and +then climb down upon it. Let us go and look." + +"Well," said Bella, "so we will." + +The two children accordingly set off on an exploring tour to find a +ladder. Mary Bell went toward the front part of the house, and Bella +into the back kitchen. They looked not only in the rooms, but also in +the passage-ways and closets, and in every corner where a ladder could +possibly be hid. At length, just as Mary Bell was going up the stairs, +in order to look into the little attic chambers, she heard Bella +calling out from the back part of the house, in a tone of voice +expressive of great exultation and joy. + +"She has found the ladder," said Mary Bell, and leaving the stairs she +went to meet her. + +She found Bella running through the kitchen toward the entry where +Mary Bell was, calling out with great appearance of delight, + +"I've found the key-hole, Mary Bell! I've found the key-hole!" + +This was indeed true. The lock to which the key that Mary Erskine +had given the children belonged, was upon the _back_ door, the +principal door of the house being fastened by a bolt. Mary Bell went +to the back door, and easily opened it by means of the key. Glad to +discover this mode of escape from their thraldom, the children ran +out, and capered about upon the back stoop in great glee. Presently +they went in again and shut all the windows which they had opened, +and then came out, locking the door after them, and set out on their +return home. + +When they arrived, they found that Mary Erskine had got every thing +ready for the school. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII. + +THE SCHOOL. + + +Good teachers and proper conveniences for study, tend very much, it +is true, to facilitate the progress of pupils in all attempts for +the acquisition of knowledge. But where these advantages cannot be +enjoyed, it is astonishing how far a little ingenuity, and resolution, +and earnestness, on the part of the pupil, will atone for the +deficiency. No child need ever be deterred from undertaking any +study adapted to his years and previous attainments, for want of +the necessary implements or apparatus, or the requisite means of +instruction. The means of supplying the want of these things are +always at the command of those who are intelligent, resolute, and +determined. It is only the irresolute, the incompetent, and the +feeble-minded that are dependent for their progress on having a +teacher to show them and to urge them onward, every step of the way. + +When Mary Bell and Bella returned home they found that Mary Erskine +had made all the preparations necessary for the commencement of the +school. She had made a desk for the two children by means of the +ironing-board, which was a long and wide board, made very smooth on +both sides. This board Mary Erskine placed across two chairs, having +previously laid two blocks of wood upon the chairs in a line with the +back side of the board, in such a manner as to raise that side and +to cause the board to slope forward like a desk. She had placed two +stools in front of this desk for seats. + +Upon this desk, at one end of it, the end, namely, at which Bella was +to sit, Mary Erskine had placed a small thin board which she found in +the shop, and by the side of it a piece of chalk. This small board and +piece of chalk were to be used instead of a slate and pencil. + +At Mary Bell's end of the desk there was a piece of paper and a pen, +which Mary Erskine had taken out of her work-table. By the side of the +paper and pen was Bella's picture-book. This picture-book was a small +but very pretty picture-book, which Mary Bell had given to Bella for a +present on her birth-day, the year before. The picture-book looked, +as it lay upon the desk, as if it were perfectly new. Mary Erskine +had kept it very carefully in her work-table drawer, as it was the +only picture-book that Bella had. She was accustomed to take it out +sometimes in the evening, and show the pictures to Bella, one by one, +explaining them at the same time, so far as she could guess at the +story from the picture itself, for neither she herself, nor Bella, +could understand a word of the reading. On these occasions Mary +Erskine never allowed Bella to touch the book, but always turned over +the leaves herself, and that too in a very careful manner, so as to +preserve it in its original condition, smooth, fresh, and unsullied. + +Mary Bell and Bella looked at the desk which Mary Erskine had prepared +for them, and liked it very much indeed. + +"But where are _you_ going to study?" asked Mary Bell. + +"I shall study at my work-table, but not now. I can't study until the +evening. I have my work to do, all the day, and so I shall not begin +my studies until the evening when you children are all gone to bed. +And besides, there is only one pen." + +"Oh, but you will not want the pen," said Mary Bell. "You are going to +learn to read." + +"No," said Mary Erskine. "I am going to learn to write first." + +"Not _first_," said Mary Bell. "We always learn to _read_, +before we learn to write." + +"But I am going to learn to write first," said Mary Erskine. "I have +been thinking about it, and I think that will be best. I have got +the plan all formed. I shall want you to set me a copy, and then this +evening I shall write it." + +"Well," said Mary Bell, "I will. The first copy must be straight +marks." + +"No," said Mary Erskine, "the first thing is to learn to write my +name. I shall never have any occasion to write straight marks, but I +shall want to write my name a great many times." + +"Oh, but you can't _begin_ with writing your name," said Mary +Bell. + +"Yes," said Mary Erskine, "I am going to begin with _Mary_: only +_Mary_. I want you to write me two copies, one with the letters +all separate, and the other with the letters together. + +"Well," said Mary Bell, "I will." So she sat down to her desk, taking +up her pen, she dipped it into the inkstand. The inkstand had been +placed into the chair which Mary Bell's end of the ironing-board +rested upon. It could not stand safely on the board itself as that was +sloping. + +Mary Bell wrote the letters M--A--R--Y, in a large plain hand upon +the top of the paper, and then in a same line she wrote them again, +joining them together in a word. Mary Erskine stood by while she +wrote, examining very attentively her method of doing the work, and +especially her way of holding the pen. When the copy was finished, +Mary Erskine cut it off from the top of the paper and pinned it up +against the side of the room, where she could look at it and study the +names of the letters in the intervals of her work during the day. + +"There," said she in a tone of satisfaction when this was done. "I +have got my work before me. The next thing is to give Bella hers." + +It was decided that Bella should pursue a different method from her +mother. She was to learn the letters of the alphabet in regular order, +taking the first two, _a_ and _b_, for her first lesson. +Mary Bell made copies of those two letters for her, with the chalk, +upon the top of the board. She made these letters in the form of +printed and not written characters, because the object was to teach +Bella to read printed books. + +"Now," said Mary Erskine to Bella, "you must study _a_ and +_b_ for half an hour. I shall tell you when I think the half hour +is out. If you get tired of sitting at your desk, you may take your +board and your chalk out to the door and sit upon the step. You must +spend all the time in making the letters on the board, and you may say +_a_ and _b_ while you are making the letters, but besides +that you must not speak a word. For every time that you speak, except +to say _a_ and _b_, after I tell you to begin, you will have +to pick up a basket of chips." + +Picking up baskets of chips was the common punishment that Bella was +subjected to for her childish misdemeanors. There was a bin in the +stoop, where she used to put them, and a small basket hanging up by +the side of it. The chip-yard was behind the house, and there was +always an abundant supply of chips in it, from Albert's cutting. The +basket, it is true, was quite small, and to fill it once with chips, +was but a slight punishment; but slight punishments are always +sufficient for sustaining any just and equitable government, provided +they are certain to follow transgression, and are strictly and +faithfully enforced. Bella was a very obedient and submissive child, +though she had scarcely ever been subjected to any heavier punishment +than picking up chips. + +"Shall I begin now?" said Bella. + +"No," replied her mother, "wait, if you like, till Mary Bell has taken +her lesson." + +"I don't see how I am going to draw," said Mary Bell, "without any +pencil." + +"You will have to draw with the pen," said Mary Erskine. "I am very +sorry that I have not got any pencil for you." + +So saying, Mary Erskine took up the picture-book, and began turning +over the leaves, to find, as she said, the picture of a house. She +should think, she said, that the picture of a house would be a good +thing to begin with. + +She found a view of a house in the third picture in the book. There +was a great deal in the picture besides the house, but Mary Erskine +said that the house alone should be the lesson. There was a pond near +it, with a shore, and ducks and geese swimming in the water. Then +there was a fence and a gate, and a boy coming through the gate, and +some trees. There was one large tree with a swing hanging from one of +the branches. + +"Now, Mary," said Mary Erskine, speaking to Mary Bell, "you may take +the house alone. First you must look at it carefully, and examine all +the little lines and marks, and see exactly how they are made. There +is the chimney, for example. See first what the shape of the outline +of it is, and look at all _those_ little lines, and _those_, +and _those_," continued Mary Erskine, pointing to the different +parts of the chimney. "You must examine in the same way all the other +lines, in all the other parts of the picture, and see exactly how fine +they are, and how near together they are, so that you can imitate them +exactly. Then you must make some little dots upon your paper to mark +the length and breadth of the house, so as to get it of the right +shape; and then draw the lines and finish it all exactly as it is in +the book." + +Bella looked over very attentively, while her mother was explaining +these things to Mary Bell, and then said that _she_ would rather +draw a house than make letters. + +"No," said her mother, "you must make letters." + +"But it is harder to make letters than it is to make a house," said +Bella. + +"Yes," said her mother, "I think it is." + +"And I think," said Bella, "that the littlest scholar ought to have +the easiest things to do." + +Mary Erskine laughed, and said that in schools, those things were not +done that seemed best to the scholars, but those that seemed best to +the teachers. + +"Then," said Mary Bell, "why must not you write marks." + +Mary Erskine laughed still more at this, and said she acknowledged +that the children had got her penned up in a corner. + +"Now," said Mary Erskine, "are you ready to begin; because when you +once begin, you must not speak a word till the half hour is out." + +"Yes," said the children, "we are ready." + +"Then _begin_," said Mary Erskine. + +The children began with great gravity and silence, each at her +separate task, while Mary Erskine went on with her own regular +employment. The silence continued unbroken for about five minutes, +when Bella laid down her chalk in a despairing manner, saying, + +"O dear me! I can't make a _a_." + +"There's one basket of chips," said Mary Erskine. + +"Why I really can't," said Bella, "I have tried three times." + +"Two baskets of chips," said her mother. "Make two marks on the corner +of your board," she continued, "and every time you speak put down +another, so that we can remember how many baskets of chips you have to +pick up." + +Bella looked rather disconsolate at receiving this direction. She +knew, however, that she must obey. She was also well aware that she +would certainly have to pick up as many baskets of chips as should +be indicated by the line of chalk marks. She, therefore, resumed her +work, inwardly resolving that she would not speak another word. All +this time, Mary Bell went on with her drawing, without apparently +paying any attention to the conversation between Bella and her mother. + +[Illustration: THE SCHOOL.] + +Bella went on, too, herself after this, very attentively, making the +letters which had been assigned her for her lesson, and calling the +names of them as she made them, but not speaking any words. + +At length Mary Erskine told the children that the half hour had +expired, and that they were at liberty. Bella jumped up and ran away +to play. Mary Bell wished to remain and finish her house. Mary Erskine +went to look at it. She compared it very attentively with the original +in the picture-book, and observed several places in which Mary Bell +had deviated from her pattern. She did not, however, point out any of +these faults to Mary Bell, but simply said that she had done her work +very well indeed. She had made a very pretty house. Mary Bell said +that it was not quite finished, and she wished to remain at her desk a +little longer to complete it. Mary Erskine gave her leave to do so. + +Bella, who had gone away at first, dancing to the door, pleased to be +released from her confinement, came back to see Mary Bell's picture, +while her mother was examining it. She seemed very much pleased with +it indeed. Then she asked her mother to look at her letters upon the +board. Mary Erskine and Mary Bell both looked at them, one by one, +very attentively, and compared them with the letters which Mary Bell +had made for patterns, and also with specimens of the letters in the +books. Bella took great interest in looking for the letters in the +book, much pleased to find that she knew them wherever she saw them. +Her mother, too, learned _a_ and _b_ very effectually by +this examination of Bella's work. Mary Erskine selected the two best +letters which Bella had made, one of each kind, and rubbed out all the +rest with a cloth. She then put up the board in a conspicuous place +upon a shelf, where the two good letters could be seen by all in the +room. Bella was much pleased at this, and she came in from her play +several times in the course of the day, to look at her letters and to +call them by name. + +When Bella's board had thus been put up in its conspicuous position, +Mary Bell sat down to finish her drawing, while Bella went out to +pick up her two baskets of chips. Mary Bell worked upon her house for +nearly the whole of another half hour. When it was finished she cut +the part of the paper which it was drawn upon off from the rest, and +ruled around it a neat margin of double black lines. She obtained a +narrow strip of wood, from the shop which served her as a ruler. She +said that she meant to have all her drawing lessons of the same size, +and to put the same margin around them. She marked her house No. 1, +writing the numbering in a small but plain hand on one corner. She +wrote the initials of her, name, M.B., in the same small hand, on the +opposite corner. + +Mary Erskine did not attempt _her_ lesson until the evening. She +finished her work about the house a little after eight o'clock, and +then she undressed the children and put them to bed. By this time it +was nearly nine o'clock. The day had been warm and pleasant, but the +nights at this season were cool, and Mary Erskine put two or three dry +sticks upon the fire, before she commenced her work, partly for the +warmth, and partly for the cheerfulness of the blaze. + +She lighted her lamp, and sat down at her work-table, with Mary Bell's +copy, and her pen, ink, and paper, before her. The copy had been +pinned up in sight all the day, and she had very often examined it, +when passing it, in going to and fro at her work. She had thus learned +the names of all the letters in the word Mary, and had made herself +considerably familiar with the forms of them; so that she not only +knew exactly what she had to do in writing the letters, but she felt a +strong interest in doing it. She, however, made extremely awkward +work in her first attempts at writing the letters. She, nevertheless, +steadily persevered. She wrote the words, first in separate letters, +and then afterwards in a joined hand, again and again, going down the +paper. She found that she could write a little more easily, if not +better, as she proceeded,--but still the work was very hard. At ten +o'clock her paper was covered with what she thought were miserable +scrawls, and her wrist and her fingers ached excessively. She put her +work away, and prepared to go to bed. + +"Perhaps I shall have to give it up after all," said she. "But I will +not give up till I am beaten. I will write an hour every day for six +months, and then if I can not write my name so that people can read +it, I will stop." + +The next day about an hour after breakfast Mary Erskine had another +school for the children. Bella took the two next letters _c_ and +_d_ for her lesson, while Mary Bell took the swing hanging from +the branch of the tree in the picture-book, for the subject of her +second drawing. Before beginning her work, she studied all the touches +by which the drawing was made in the book, with great attention and +care, in order that she might imitate them as precisely as possible. +She succeeded very well indeed in this second attempt. The swing made +even a prettier picture than the house. When it was finished she cut +the paper out, of the same size with the other, drew a border around +it, and marked it No. 2. She went on in this manner every day as long +as she remained at Mary Erskine's, drawing a new picture every day. +At last, when she went home, Mary Erskine put all her drawings up +together, and Mary Bell carried them home to show them to her mother. +This was the beginning of Mary Bell's drawing. + +As for Mary Erskine, her second lesson was the word _Erskine_, +which she found a great deal harder to write than Mary. There was one +thing, however, that pleased her in it, which was that there was one +letter which she knew already, having learned it in Mary: that was the +_r_. All the rest of the letters, however, were new, and she had +to practice writing the word two evenings before she could write it +well, without looking at the copy. She then thought that probably by +that time she had forgotten _Mary_; but on trying to write that +word, she was very much pleased to find that she could write it +much more easily than she could before. This encouraged her, and she +accordingly took Forester for her third lesson without any fear of +forgetting the Mary and the Erskine. + +The Forester lesson proved to be a very easy one. There were only +three new letters in it, and those three were very easy to write. In +fine, at the end of the four days, when Mary Bell was to go home, Mary +Erskine could read, write, and spell her name very respectably well. + +Mrs. Bell came herself for Mary when the time of her visit expired. +She was very much pleased to learn how good a girl and how useful her +daughter had been. She was particularly pleased with her drawings. She +said that she had been very desirous to have Mary learn to draw, but +that she did not know it was possible to make so good a beginning +without a teacher. + +"Why I _had_ a teacher," said Mary Bell. "I think that Mary +Erskine is a teacher; and a very good one besides." + +"I think so too," said Mrs. Bell. + +The children went out to get some wild flowers for Mary Bell to carry +home, and Mrs. Bell then asked Mary if she had begun to consider what +it was best for her to do. + +"Yes," said Mary Erskine. "I think it will be best for me to sell +the farm, and the new house, and all the stock, and live here in this +house with my children." + +Mrs. Bell did not answer, but seemed to be thinking whether this would +be the best plan or not. + +"The children cannot go to school from here," said Mrs. Bell. + +"No," said Mary Erskine, "but I can teach them myself, I think, till +they are old enough to walk to the school-house. I find that I can +learn the letters faster than Bella can, and that without interfering +with my work; and Mary Bell will come out here now and then and tell +us what we don't know." + +"Yes," said Mrs. Bell, "I shall be glad to have her come as often +as you wish. But it seems to me that you had better move into the +village. Half the money that the farm and the stock will sell for, +will buy you a very pleasant house in the village, and the interest +on the other half, together with what you can earn, will support you +comfortably." + +"Yes," said Mary Erskine, "but then I should be growing poorer, rather +than richer, all the time; and when my children grow large, and I want +the money for them, I shall find that I have spent it all. Now if I +stay here in this house, I shall have no rent to pay, nor shall I lose +the interest of a part of my money, as I should if I were to buy a +house in the village with it to live in myself. I can earn enough here +too by knitting, and by spinning and weaving, for all that we shall +want while the children are young. I can keep a little land with this +house, and let Thomas, or some other such boy live with me, and raise +such things as we want to eat; and so I think I can get along very +well, and put out all the money which I get from the farm and the +stock, at interest. In ten or fifteen years it will be two thousand +dollars. Then I shall be rich, and can move into the village without +any danger. + +"Not two thousand dollars!" said Mrs. Bell. + +"Yes," said Mary Erskine, "if I have calculated it right." + +"Why, how much do you think the farm and stock will sell for?" asked +Mrs. Bell. + +"About eight hundred dollars," said Mary Erskine. "That put out at +interest will double in about twelve years." + +"Very well," rejoined Mrs. Bell, "but that makes only sixteen hundred +dollars." + +"But then I think that I can lay up half a dollar a week of my own +earnings, especially when Bella gets a little bigger so as to help me +about the house," said Mary Erskine. + +"Well;" said Mrs. Bell. + +"That," continued Mary Erskine, "will be twenty-five dollars a year. +Which will be at least three hundred dollars in twelve years." + +"Very well," said Mrs. Bell, "that makes nineteen hundred." + +"Then," continued Mary Erskine, "I thought that at the end of the +twelve years I should be able to sell this house and the land around +it for a hundred dollars, especially if I take good care of the +buildings in the mean while." + +"And that makes your two thousand dollars," said Mrs. Bell. + +"Yes," replied Mary Erskine. + +"But suppose you are sick." + +"Oh, if I am sick, or if I die," rejoined Mary Erskine, "of course +that breaks up all my plans. I know I can't plan against calamities." + +"Well," said Mrs. Bell, rising from her seat with a smile of +satisfaction upon her countenance, "I can't advise you. But if ever I +get into any serious trouble, I shall come to you to advise me." + +So bidding Mary Erskine good-bye, Mrs. Bell called her daughter, and +they went together toward their home. + + + + +CHAPTER IX. + +GOOD MANAGEMENT. + + +Whenever any person dies, leaving property to be divided among +his heirs, and not leaving any valid will to determine the mode of +division, the property as has already been said, must be divided on +certain principles, established by the law of the land, and under +the direction of the Judge of Probate, who has jurisdiction over +the county in which the property is situated. The Judge of Probate +appoints a person to take charge of the property and divide it among +the heirs. This person is called the administrator, or, if a +woman, the administratrix. The Judge gives the administrator or the +administratrix a paper, which authorises him or her to take charge of +the property, which paper is called, "Letters of Administration." +The letters of administration are usually granted to the wife of the +deceased, or to his oldest son, or, if there is no wife or son, to the +nearest heir who is of proper age and discretion to manage the trust. +The person who receives administration is obliged to take a solemn +oath before the Judge of Probate, that he will report to the Judge a +full account of all the property that belonged to the deceased which +shall come to his knowledge. The Judge also appoints three persons to +go and examine the property, and make an inventory of it, and appraise +every article, so as to know as nearly as possible, how much and what +property there is. These persons are called appraisers. The inventory +which they make out is lodged in the office of the Judge of Probate, +where any person who has an interest in the estate can see it at any +time. The administrator usually keeps a copy of the inventory besides. + +If among the property left by a person deceased, which is to go in +part to children, there are any houses and lands,--a kind of property +which is called in law _real estate_, to distinguish it from +moveable property, which is called _personal estate_,--such +real estate cannot be sold, in ordinary cases, by the administrator, +without leave from the Judge of Probate. This leave the Judge of +Probate will give in cases where it is clearly best for the children +that the property should be so sold and the _avails of it_ kept +for them, rather than the property itself. All these things Mrs. Bell +explained to Mary Erskine, having learned about them herself some +years before when her own husband died. + +Accordingly, a few weeks after Albert died, Mary Erskine went one +day in a wagon, taking the baby with her, and Thomas to drive, to the +county town, where the Probate court was held. + +[Illustration: GOING TO COURT.] + +At the Probate court, Mary Erskine made all the arrangements necessary +in respect to the estate. She had to go twice, in fact, before all +these arrangements were completed. She expected to have a great deal +of trouble and embarrassment in doing this business, but she did not +find that there was any trouble at all. The Judge of Probate told her +exactly what to do. She was required to sign her name once or twice +to papers. This she did with great trepidation, and after writing her +name, on the first occasion which occurred requiring her signature, +she apologized for not being able to write any better. The Judge of +Probate said that very few of the papers that he received were signed +so well. + +Mary Erskine was appointed administratrix, and the Judge gave her +a paper which he said was her "Letters of Administration." What the +Judge gave to her seemed to be only one paper, but she thought it +probable, as the Judge said "Letters" that there was another inside. +When she got home, however, and opened the paper she found that there +was only one. She could not read it herself, her studies having yet +extended no farther than to the writing of her name. The first time, +however, that Mary Bell came to see her, after she received this +document, she asked Mary Bell to read it to her. Mary Bell did so, +but after she had got through, Mary Erskine said that she could not +understand one word of it from beginning to end. Mary Bell said that +that was not strange, for she believed that lawyers' papers were only +meant for lawyers to understand. + +The appraisers came about this time to make an inventory of the +property. They went all over the house and barns, and took a complete +account of every thing that they found. They made a list of all the +oxen, sheep, cows, horses, and other animals, putting down opposite +to each one, their estimate of its value. They did the same with the +vehicles, and farming implements, and utensils, and also with all +the household furniture, and the provisions and stores. When they had +completed the appraisement they added up the amount, and found that +the total was a little over four hundred dollars, Mary Erskine was +very much surprised to find that there was so much. + +The appraisers then told Mary Erskine that half of that property was +hers, and the other half belonged to the children; and that as much of +their half as was necessary for their support could be used for that +purpose, and the rest must be paid over to them when they became of +age. They said also that she or some one else must be appointed their +guardian, to take care of their part of the property; and that the +guardian could either keep the property as it was, or sell it and +keep the money as she thought would be most for the interest of the +children; and that she had the same power in respect to her own share. + +Mary Erskine said that she thought it would be best for her to sell +the stock and farming tools, because she could not take care of +them nor use them, and she might put the money out at interest. The +appraisers said they thought so too. + +In the end, Mary Erskine was appointed guardian. The idea appeared +strange to her at first of being _appointed_ guardian to her own +children, as it seemed to her that a mother naturally and necessarily +held that relation to her offspring. But the meaning of the law, in +making a mother the guardian of her children by appointment in such +a case as this, is simply to authorize her to take care of +_property_ left to them, or descending to them. It is obvious +that cases must frequently occur in which a mother, though the natural +guardian of her children so far as the personal care of them is +concerned, would not be properly qualified to take charge of any +considerable amount of property coming to them. When the mother is +qualified to take this charge, she can be duly authorized to do +it; and this is the appointment to the guardianship--meaning the +guardianship of the property to which the appointment refers. + +Mary Erskine was accordingly appointed guardian of the children, and +she obtained leave to sell the farm. She decided that it would be best +to sell it as she thought, after making diligent enquiry, that she +could not depend on receiving any considerable annual rent for it, if +she were to attempt to let it. She accordingly sold the farm, with the +new house, and all the stock,--excepting that she reserved from the +farm ten acres of land around her own house, and one cow, one horse, +two pigs, and all the poultry. She also reserved all the household +furniture. These things she took as a part of her portion. The +purchase money for all the rest amounted to nine hundred and fifty +dollars. This sum was considerably more than Mary Erskine had expected +to receive. + +The question now was what should be done with this money. There are +various modes which are adopted for investing such sums so as to get +an annual income from them. The money may be lent to some person who +will take it and pay interest for it. A house may be bought and let to +some one who wishes to hire it; or shares in a rail-road, or a bank, +or a bridge, may be taken. Such kinds of property as those are managed +by directors, who take care of all the profits that are made, and +twice a year divide the money among the persons that own the shares. + +Mary Erskine had a great deal of time for enquiry and reflection in +respect to the proper mode of investing her money, for the man who +purchased the farm and the stock was not to pay the money immediately. +The price agreed upon for the farm, including of course the new house, +was five hundred dollars. The stock, farming utensils, &c, which he +took with it, came to three hundred and sixty dollars. The purchaser +was to pay, of this money, four hundred dollars in three months, +and the balance in six months. Mary Erskine, therefore, had to make +provision for investing the four hundred dollars first. + +She determined, after a great deal of consideration and inquiry, to +lay out this money in buying four shares in the Franconia bridge. +These shares were originally one hundred dollars each, but the bridge +had become so profitable on account of the number of persons that +passed it, and the amount of money which was consequently collected +for tolls, that the shares would sell for a hundred and ten dollars +each. This ten dollars advance over the original price of the shares, +is called _premium_. Upon the four shares which Mary Erskine was +going to buy, the premium would be of course forty dollars. This money +Mary Erskine concluded to borrow. Mr. Keep said that he would very +gladly lend it to her. Her plan was to pay the borrowed money back out +of the dividends which she would receive from her bridge shares. The +dividend was usually five per centum, or, as they commonly called +it, _five per cent._, that is, five dollars on every share of a +hundred dollars every six months.[A] The dividend on the four shares +would, of course, be twenty dollars, so that it would take two +dividends to pay off the forty dollar debt to Mr. Keep, besides a +little interest. When this was done, Mary Erskine would have property +in the bridge worth four hundred and forty dollars, without having +used any more than four hundred dollars of her farm money, and she +would continue to have forty dollars a year from it, as long as she +kept it in her possession. + +[Footnote A: _Per_ is a Latin word meaning _for_, and +_centum_ another meaning _a hundred_.] + +When the rest of the money for the farm was paid, Mary Erskine +resolved on purchasing a certain small, but very pleasant house with +it. This house was in the village, and she found on inquiry, that it +could be let to a family for fifty dollars a year. It is true that +a part of this fifty dollars would have to be expended every year in +making repairs upon the house, so as to keep it in good order; such as +painting it from time to time, and renewing the roof when the shingles +began to decay, and other similar things. But, then, Mary Erskine +found, on making a careful examination, that after expending as much +of the money which she should receive for the rent of her house, as +should be necessary for the repairs, she should still have rather more +than she would receive from the money to be invested, if it was put +out at interest by lending it to some person who wanted to borrow it. +So she decided to buy the house in preference to adopting any other +plan. + +It happened that the house which Mary Erskine thus determined to buy, +was the very one that Mr. Gordon lived in. The owner of the house +wished to sell it, and offered it first to Mr. Gordon; but he said +that he was not able to buy it. He had been doing very well in his +business, but his expenses were so great, he said, that he had not any +ready money at command. He was very sorry, he added, that the owner +wished to sell the house, for whoever should buy it, would want to +come and live in it, he supposed, and he should be obliged to move +away. The owner said that he was sorry, but that he could not help it. + +A few days after this, Mr. Gordon came home one evening, and told +Anne Sophia, with a countenance expressive of great surprise and some +little vexation, that her old friend, Mrs. Forester, had bought their +house, and was going to move into it. Anne Sophia was amazed at this +intelligence, and both she and her husband were thrown into a state of +great perplexity and trouble. The next morning Anne Sophia went out +to see Mary Erskine about it. Mary Erskine received her in a very kind +and cordial manner. + +"I am very glad to see you," said Mary Erskine. "I was coming to your +house myself in a day or two, about some business, if you had not come +here." + +"Yes," said Anne Sophia. "I understand that you have been buying our +house away from over our heads, and are going to turn us out of house +and home." + +"Oh, no," said Mary Erskine, smiling, "not at all. In the first place, +I have not really bought the house yet, but am only talking about it; +and in the second place, if I buy it, I shall not want it myself, but +shall wish to have you live in it just as you have done." + +"You will not want it yourself!" exclaimed Anne Sophia, astonished. + +"No," said Mary Erskine, "I am only going to buy it as an investment." + +There were so many things to be astonished at in this statement, that +Anne Sophia hardly knew where to begin with her wonder. First, she was +surprised to learn that Mary Erskine had so much money. When she heard +that she had bought the house, she supposed of course that she had +bought it on credit, for the sake of having a house in the village to +live in. Then she was amazed at the idea of any person continuing to +live in a log house in the woods, when she had a pretty house of +her own in the middle of the village. She could not for some time be +satisfied that Mary Erskine was in earnest in what she said. But when +she found that it was really so, she went away greatly relieved. Mary +Erskine told her that she had postponed giving her final answer about +buying the house, in order first to see Mr. Gordon, to know whether +he had any objection to the change of ownership. She knew, of course, +that Mr. Gordon would have no right to object, but she rightly +supposed that he would be gratified at having her ask him the +question. + +Mary Erskine went on after this for two or three years very +prosperously in all her affairs. Thomas continued to live with her, +in her log-house, and to cultivate the land which she had retained. In +the fall and winter, when there was nothing to be done in the fields +or garden, he was accustomed to work in the shop, making improvements +for the house, such as finishing off the stoop into another room, to +be used for a kitchen, making new windows to the house, and a regular +front door, and in preparing fences and gates to be put up around +the house. He made an aqueduct, too, to conduct the water from a new +spring which he discovered at a place higher than the house, and so +brought a constant stream of water into the kitchen which he had +made in the stoop. The stumps, too, in the fields around the house, +gradually decayed, so that Thomas could root them out and smooth over +the ground where they had stood. Mary Erskine's ten acres thus became +very smooth and beautiful. It was divided by fences into very pleasant +fields, with green lanes shaded by trees, leading from one place to +another. The brook flowed through this land along a very beautiful +valley, and there were groves and thickets here and there, both along +the margin of the brook, and in the corners of the fields, which +gave to the grounds a very sheltered, as well as a very picturesque +expression. Mary Erskine also caused trees and shrubbery to be planted +near the house, and trained honey-suckles and wild roses upon a +trellis over the front door. All these improvements were made in a +very plain and simple manner, and at very little expense, and yet +there was so much taste exercised in the arrangement of them all, that +the effect was very agreeable in the end. The house and all about it +formed, in time, an enchanting picture of rural beauty.[A] + +[Footnote A: See Frontispiece.] + +It was, however, only a few occasional hours of recreation that Mary +Erskine devoted to ornamenting her dwelling. The main portion of her +time and attention was devoted to such industrial pursuits as were +most available in bringing in the means of support for herself and her +children, so as to leave untouched the income from her house and her +bridge shares. This income, as fast as it was paid in, she deposited +with Mr. Keep, to be lent out on interest, until a sufficient sum was +thus accumulated to make a new investment of a permanent character. +When the sum at length amounted to two hundred and twenty dollars, she +bought two more bridge shares with it, and from that time forward +she received dividends on six shares instead of four; that is, she +received thirty dollars every six months, instead of twenty, as +before. + +One reason why Mary Erskine invested her money in a house and in a +bridge, instead of lending it out at interest, was that by so doing, +her property was before her in a visible form, and she could take a +constant pleasure in seeing it. Whenever she went to the village +she enjoyed seeing her house, which she kept in a complete state of +repair, and which she had ornamented with shrubbery and trees, so that +it was a very agreeable object to look upon of itself, independently +of the pleasure of ownership. In the same manner she liked to see the +bridge, and think when teams and people were passing over it, that a +part of all the toll which they paid, would, in the end, come to her. +She thus took the same kind of pleasure in having purchased a house, +and shares in a bridge, that any lady in a city would take in an +expensive new carpet, or a rosewood piano, which would cost about the +same sum; and then she had all the profit, in the shape of the annual +income, besides. + +There was one great advantage too which Mary Erskine derived from +owning this property, which, though she did not think of it at all +when she commenced her prudent and economical course, at the time of +her marriage, proved in the end to be of inestimable value to her. +This advantage was the high degree of respectability which it gave her +in the public estimation. The people of the village gradually found +out how she managed, and how fast her property was increasing, and +they entertained for her a great deal of that kind of respect which +worldly prosperity always commands. The store-keepers were anxious to +have her custom. Those who had money to lend were always very ready to +let her have it, if at any time she wished to make up a sum for a new +investment: and all the ladies of the village were willing that their +daughters should go out to her little farm to visit Bella, and to +have Bella visit them in return. Thus Mary Erskine found that she was +becoming quite an important personage. + +Her plan of teaching herself and her children succeeded perfectly. By +the time that she had thoroughly learned to write her own name, she +knew half of the letters of the alphabet, for her name contained +nearly that number. She next learned to write her children's names, +Bella Forester and Albert Forester. After that, she learned to write +the names of all the months, and to read them when she had written +them. She chose the names of the months, next after the names of +her own family, so that she might be able to date her letters if she +should ever have occasion to write any. + +Mary Bell set copies for her, when she came out to see her, and Mary +Erskine went on so much faster than Bella, that she could teach her +very well. She required Bella to spend an hour at her studies every +day. Thomas made a little desk for her, and her mother bought her a +slate and a pencil, and in process of time an arithmetic, and other +books. As soon as Mary Erskine could read fluently, Mary Bell used to +bring out books to her, containing entertaining stories. At first Mary +Bell would read these stories to her once, while she was at her work, +and then Mary Erskine, having heard Mary Bell read them, could read +them herself in the evening without much difficulty. At length she +made such progress that she could read the stories herself alone, the +first time, with very little trouble. + +Thus things went on in a very pleasant and prosperous manner, and this +was the condition of Mary Erskine and of her affairs, at the time when +Malleville and Phonny went to pay her their visit, as described in the +first chapter of this volume. + + + + +CHAPTER X. + +THE VISIT TO MARY ERSKINE'S. + + +Malleville and Phonny arrived at Mary Erskine's about an hour after +Beechnut left them. They met with no special adventures by the way, +except that when they reached the great pine-tree, Phonny proposed to +climb up, for the purpose of examining a small bunch which he saw upon +one of the branches, which he thought was a bird's nest. It was the +same pine-tree that marked the place at which a road branched off into +the woods, where Mary Bell had lost her way, several years before. +Malleville was very unwilling to have Phonny climb up upon such a high +tree, but Phonny himself was very desirous to make the attempt. There +was a log fence at the foot of the tree, and the distance was not very +great from the uppermost log of the fence, to the lowermost branch +of the tree. So Phonny thought that he could get up without any +difficulty. + +Malleville was afraid to have him try, and she said that if he did, he +would be acting just as foolish as the boy that Beechnut had told them +about, who nipped his own nose; and that she should not stop to see +him do any such foolishness. So she walked along as fast as she could +go. + +Phonny unfortunately was rendered only the more determined to climb +the tree by Malleville's opposition. He accordingly mounted up to the +top of the fence, and thence reaching the lower branches of the tree +he succeeded at length, by dint of much scrambling and struggling, in +lifting himself up among them. He climbed out to the limb where he had +seen the appearances of a bird's nest, but found to his disappointment +that there was no bird's nest there. The bunch was only a little tuft +of twigs growing out together. + +Phonny then began to shout out for Malleville to wait for him. + +"Mal--le--ville! Mal--le--ville!" said he. "Wait a minute for me. I am +coming down." + +He did not like to be left there all alone, in the gloomy and solitary +forest. So he made all the haste possible in descending. There are a +great many accidents which may befall a boy in coming down a tree. The +one which Phonny was fated to incur in this instance, was to catch his +trowsers near the knee, in a small sharp twig which projected from a +branch, and tear them. + +When he reached the ground he looked at the rent in dismay. He was +generally nice and particular about his clothes, and he was very +unwilling to go to Mary Erskine's, and let her and Bella see him in +such a plight. He was equally unwilling to go home again, and to lose +his visit. + +"Provoking!" said he. "That comes from Malleville's hurrying me so. +It is all her fault." Then starting off suddenly, he began to run, +shouting out, "Malleville! Malleville!" + +At length, when he got pretty near her, he called out for her to stop +and see what she had made him do. + +"Did I make you do that?" said Malleville, looking at the rent, while +Phonny stood with his foot extended, and pointing at it with his +finger. + +"Yes," said Phonny,--"because you hurried me." + +"Well, I'm sorry;" said Malleville, looking very much concerned. + +Phonny was put quite to a nonplus by this unexpected answer. He had +expected to hear Malleville deny that it was her fault that he had +torn his clothes, and was prepared to insist strenuously that it was; +but this unlooked-for gentleness seemed to leave him not a word to +say. So he walked along by the side of Malleville in silence. + +"Was it a pretty bird's-nest?" said Malleville in a conciliatory tone, +after a moment's pause. + +"No," said Phonny. "It was not any bird's nest at all." + +When the children reached the farm as they called it, Mary Erskine +seated Phonny on the bed, and then drawing up her chair near to him, +she took his foot in her lap and mended the rent so neatly that there +was afterwards no sign of it to be seen. + +Little Albert was at this time about three years old, and Bella was +seven. Phonny, while Mary Erskine was mending his clothes, asked where +the children were. Mary Erskine said that they had gone out into +the fields with Thomas, to make hay. So Phonny and Malleville, after +getting proper directions in respect to the way that they were to go, +set off in pursuit of them. + +They went out at a back-door which led to a beautiful walk under +a long trellis, which was covered with honey-suckles and roses. +Malleville stopped to get a rose, and Phonny to admire two +humming-birds that were playing about the honey-suckles. He wished +very much that he could catch one of them, but he could not even get +near them. From the end of the trellis's walk the children entered a +garden, and at the back side of the garden they went through a narrow +place between two posts into a field. They walked along the side of +this field, by a very pleasant path with high green grass and flowers +on one side, and a wall with a great many raspberry bushes growing +by it, and now and then little thickets of trees, on the other. The +bushes and trees made the walk that they were going in very cool and +shady. There were plenty of raspberries upon the bushes, but they were +not yet ripe. Phonny said that when the raspberries were ripe he meant +to come out to Mary Erskine's again and get some. + +Presently the children turned a sort of a corner which was formed by a +group of trees, and then they came in sight of the hay-making party. + +"Oh, they have got the horse and cart," said Phonny. So saying he set +off as fast he could run, toward the hay-makers, Malleville following +him. + +The horse and cart were standing in the middle of the field among the +numerous winrows of hay. The two children of Mrs. Forester, Bella +and Albert, were in the cart, treading down the hay as fast as Thomas +pitched it up. As soon as Phonny and Malleville reached the place, +Malleville stood still with her hands behind her, looking at the scene +with great interest and pleasure. Phonny wanted to know if Thomas had +not got another pitch-fork, so that he might help him pitch up the +hay. + +Thomas said, no. He, however, told Phonny that he might get into the +cart if he pleased, and drive the horse along when it was time to +go to a new place. Phonny was extremely pleased with this plan. He +climbed into the cart, Bella helping him up by a prodigious lift which +she gave him, seizing him by the shoulder as he came up. Malleville +was afraid to get into the cart at all, but preferred walking along +the field and playing among the winrows. + +Phonny drove along from place to place as Thomas directed him, until +at length the cart was so full that it was no longer safe for the +children to remain upon the top. They then slid down the hay to the +ground, Thomas receiving them so as to prevent any violent fall. +Thomas then forked up as much more hay as he could make stay upon the +top of his load, and when this was done, he set out to go to the barn. +The children accompanied him, walking behind the cart. + +When the party reached the barn, the children went inside to a place +which Phonny called the bay. Thomas drove his cart up near the side of +the barn without, and began to pitch the hay in through a great square +window, quite high up. The window opened into the bay, so that the +hay, when Thomas pitched it in, fell down into the place where the +children were standing. They jumped upon it, when it came down, with +great glee. As every new forkful which Thomas pitched in came without +any warning except the momentary darkening of the window, it sometimes +fell upon the children's heads and half buried them, each new accident +of this kind awakening, as it occurred, loud and long continued bursts +of laughter. + +After getting in two or three loads of hay in this manner, dinner +time came, and the whole party went in to dinner. They found when +they entered the house that Mary Erskine had been frying nut-cakes and +apple-turnovers for them. There was a large earthen pan full of such +things, and there were more over the fire. There were also around the +table four bowls full of very rich looking milk, with a spoon in each +bowl, and a large supply of bread, cut into very small pieces, upon +a plate near the bowls. The children were all hungry and thirsty, and +they gathered around the table to eat the excellent dinner which Mary +Erskine had provided for them, with an air of great eagerness and +delight. + +After their dinner was over, Mary Erskine said that they might go out +and play for half an hour, and that then she would go with them +into the fields, and see if they could not find some strawberries. +Accordingly, when the time arrived, they all assembled at the door, +and Mary Erskine came out, bringing mugs and baskets to put the +strawberries in. There were four mugs made, of tin; such as were there +called _dippers_. There were two pretty large baskets besides, +both covered. Mary Erskine gave to each of the children a dipper, and +carried the baskets herself. She seemed to carry them very carefully, +and they appeared to be heavy, as if there might be something inside. +Phonny wanted very much to know what there was in those baskets. Mary +Erskine said he must guess. + +"Some cake," said Phonny. + +"Guess again," said Mary Erskine. + +"Apples," said Phonny. + +"Guess again," said Mary Erskine. + +"Why, have not I guessed right yet?" asked Phonny. + +"I can't tell you," replied Mary Erskine. "Only you may guess as much +as you please." + +Phonny of course gave up guessing, since he was not to be told whether +he guessed right or not; though he said he was sure that it was cake, +or else, perhaps, some of the turn-overs. The party walked along by +very pleasant paths until they came to a field by the side of the +brook. There were trees along the banks of the brook, under which, +and near the water, there were a great many cool and shady places +that were very pleasant. Mary Erskine led the way down to one of these +where there was a large flat stone near the water. She hid her two +baskets in the bushes, and then directed the children to go up into +the field with her and get the strawberries. The strawberries were not +only very abundant, but also very large and ripe. Mary Erskine said +that they might all eat ten, but no more. All that they got, except +ten, they must put into their dippers, until the dippers were full. +She herself went busily at work, finding strawberries and putting them +into the dippers of the children, sometimes into one and sometimes +into another. In a short time the dippers were full. + +The whole party then went back to the brook and sat down upon the +great flat stone, with their dippers before them. Mary Erskine then +brought out one of her baskets, and lifting up the cover, she took out +five saucers and five spoons. + +"There," said she, "I brought you some saucers and spoons to eat your +strawberries with. Now take up the bunches from your dippers, and pull +off the strawberries from the stems, and put them in the saucers." + +While the children were all busily engaged in doing this, Mary Erskine +opened the other basket, and took out a pitcher of very rich looking +cream. The sight of this treasure of course awakened in all the +party the utmost enthusiasm and delight. They went on hulling their +strawberries very industriously, and were soon ready, one after +another, to have the cream poured over them, which Mary Erskine +proceeded to do, giving to each one of the children a very abundant +supply. + +[Illustration: THE STRAWBERRY PARTY.] + +Phonny finished his strawberries first, and then went to the margin of +the brook to look into the water, in order, as he said, "to see if he +could see any fishes." He did see several, and became greatly excited +in consequence, calling eagerly upon the rest of the party to +come down and look. He said that he wished very much that he had a +fishing-line. Mary Erskine said that Thomas had a fishing-line, +which he would lend him, she had no doubt; and away Phonny went, +accordingly, to find Thomas and to get the line. + +This procedure was not quite right on Phonny's part. It is not right +to abandon one's party under such circumstances as these, for the sake +of some new pleasure accidentally coming into view, which the whole +party cannot share. Besides, Phonny left his dipper for Mary Erskine +or Malleville to carry up, instead of taking care of it himself. Mary +Erskine, however, said that this was of no consequence, as she could +carry it just as well as not. + +Mary Erskine and the three remaining children, then went back to the +house, where Bella and Malleville amused themselves for half an hour +in building houses with the blocks in Thomas's shop, when all at once +Malleville was surprised to see Beechnut coming in. Beechnut, was +returning from the mill, and as the children had had to walk nearly +all the way to Mary Erskine's, he thought it very probable that they +would be too tired to walk back again. So he had left his horse +and wagon at the corner, and had walked out to the farm to take the +children home with him, if they were ready to go. + +"I am not _ready_ to go," said Malleville, after having heard +this story, but I _will_ go for the sake of the ride. I am +too tired to walk all the way. But Phonny is not here. He has gone +a-fishing." + +"Where has he gone?" said Beechnut. + +"Down to the brook," replied Malleville. + +"I will go and find him," said Beechnut. + +So saying, Beechnut left the shop, went out into the yard, and began +to walk down the path which led toward the brook. Very soon he +saw Phonny coming out from among the bushes with his pole over his +shoulder, and walking along with quite a disconsolate air. Beechnut +sat down upon a log by the side of the road, to wait for him. + +"Did you catch any fishes?" said Beechnut, as Phonny approached him. + +"No," said Phonny, despondingly. + +"I am glad of that," said Beechnut. + +"Glad!" said Phonny, looking up surprised, and somewhat displeased. +"What are you glad for?" + +"For the sake of the fishes," said Beechnut. + +"Hoh!" said Phonny. "And the other day, when I did catch some, you +said you were glad of that." + +"Yes," said Beechnut, "then I was glad for your sake. There is always +a chance to be glad for some sake or other, happen what may." + +This, though very good philosophy, did not appear to be just at that +time at all satisfactory to Phonny. + +"I have had nothing but ill-luck all this afternoon," said Phonny, in +a pettish tone. "That great ugly black horse of Thomas's trod on my +foot." + +"Did he?" said Beechnut; his countenance brightening up at the same +time, as if Phonny had told him some good news. + +"Yes," said Phonny, "Thomas came along near where I was fishing, and I +laid down my fishing-line, and went up to the horse, and was standing +by his head, and he trod on my foot dreadfully." + +"Did he?" said Beechnut, "I am very glad of that." + +"Glad of that!" repeated Phonny. "I don't see whose sake you can be +glad of that for. I am sure it did not do the horse any good." + +"I am glad of that for your sake," said Beechnut. "There never was a +boy that grew up to be a man, that did not have his foot trod upon at +some time or other by a horse. There is no other possible way for +them to learn that when a horse takes up his foot, he will put it down +again wherever it happens, and if a boy's foot is under it, it will +get trod upon. There is no possible way for boys to learn that but +by experiencing it. The only difference is, that some boys take the +treading light, and others get it heavy. You have got it light. So if +you have only learned the lesson, you have learned it very easily, and +so I am glad." + +"No, it was not light," said Phonny. "It was very heavy. What makes +you think it was light?" + +"By your walking," replied Beechnut. "I have known some boys that when +they took their lesson in keeping out of the way of horses' forefeet, +could not stand for a week after it. You have had most excellent luck, +you may depend." + +By the time that Beechnut and Phonny reached the house, Malleville +had put on her bonnet and was ready to go. Mary Erskine said that she +would go with them a little way. Bella and Albert then wanted to go +too. Their mother said that she had no objection, and so they all went +along together. + +"Did you know that we were going to have a new road?" said Mary +Erskine to Beechnut. + +"Are you?" asked Phonny eagerly. + +"Yes," said Mary Erskine. "They have laid out a new road to the +corner, and are going to make it very soon. It will be a very good +wagon road, and when it is made you can ride all the way. But then it +will not be done in time for my raspberry party." + +"Your raspberry party?" repeated Phonny, "what is that?' + +"Did not I tell you about it? I am going to invite you and all the +children in the village that I know, to come here some day when the +raspberries are ripe, and have a raspberry party,--like the strawberry +party that we had to-day. There are a great many raspberries on my +place." + +"I'm _very_ glad," said Malleville. "When are you going to invite +us?" + +"Oh, in a week or two," said Mary Erskine. "But then the new road will +not be done until the fall. They have just begun it. We can hear them +working upon it in one place, pretty soon." + +The party soon came to the place which Mary Erskine had referred to. +It was a point where the new road came near the line of the old one, +and a party of men and oxen were at work, making a causeway, across a +low wet place. As the children passed along, they could hear the sound +of axes and the voices of men shouting to oxen. Phonny wished very +much to go and see. So Mary Erskine led the way through the woods a +short distance, till they came in sight of the men at work. They were +engaged in felling trees, pulling out rocks and old logs which were +sunken in the mire, by means of oxen and chains, and in other similar +works, making all the time loud and continual vociferations, which +resounded and echoed through the forest in a very impressive manner. + +What interested Phonny most in these operations, was to see how +patiently the oxen bore being driven about in the deep mire, and the +prodigious strength which they exerted in pulling out the logs. One of +the workmen would take a strong iron chain, and while two others would +pry up the end of a log with crow-bars or levers, he would pass +the chain under the end so raised, and then hook it together above. +Another man would then back up a pair of oxen to the place, and +sometimes two pairs, in order that they might be hooked to the chain +which passed around the log. When all was ready, the oxen were started +forward, and though they went very slowly, step by step, yet they +exerted such prodigious strength as to tear the log out of its bed, +and drag it off, roots, branches, and all, entirely out of the way. + +Monstrous rocks were lifted up and dragged out of the line of the road +in much the same manner. + +After looking at this scene for some time, the party returned to the +old road again, and there Mary Erskine said that she would bid her +visitors good-bye, and telling them that she would not forget to +invite them to her raspberry party, she took leave of them and went +back toward her own home. + +"If all the children of the village that Mary Erskine knows, are +invited to that party," said Phonny, "what a great raspberry party it +will be!" + +"Yes," said Beechnut, "it will be a raspberry _jam_." + + + + +THE END. + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Mary Erskine, by Jacob Abbott + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 14475 *** diff --git a/14475-h/14475-h.htm b/14475-h/14475-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..4b4064e --- /dev/null +++ b/14475-h/14475-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,4281 @@ +<?xml version="1.0" encoding="UTF-8"?> +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"> + <head> + <title> + The Project Gutenberg eBook of Mary Erskine, by Jacob Abbott. + </title> + <style type="text/css"> +/*<![CDATA[ XML blockout */ +<!-- + p { margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; + } + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + } + hr { width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + } + body{margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + } + + table {margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;} + + .pic-centre {margin: auto; text-align: center;} + + .footnotes {border: dashed 1px;} + .footnote {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-size: 0.9em;} + .footnote .label {position: absolute; left: 12%; text-align: left;} + + // --> + /* XML end ]]>*/ + </style> + </head> +<body> +<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 14475 ***</div> + +<p class="pic-centre"> +<a name="pic01a" id="pic01a" /> +<img src="images/pic0001a.jpg" width="644" height="400" alt="An engraving of Mary Erskine's Farm" title="Mary Erskine's Farm" /> +</p> + +<h1>MARY ERSKINE</h1> + +<h3>A Franconia Story,</h3> + +<h2>BY THE AUTHOR OF THE ROLLO BOOKS.</h2> + +<h4>NEW YORK: HARPER & BROTHERS PUBLISHERS. FRANKLIN SQUARE.</h4> + +<h5>Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1850, by<br /> +HARPER & BROTHERS,<br /> +In the Clerk's Office for the Southern District of New York.</h5> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<h2>PREFACE.</h2> + + +<p>The development of the moral sentiments in the human heart, in early +life,—and every thing in fact which relates to the formation of +character,—is determined in a far greater degree by sympathy, and +by the influence of example, than by formal precepts and didactic +instruction. If a boy hears his father speaking kindly to a robin in +the spring,—welcoming its coming and offering it food,—there arises +at once in his own mind, a feeling of kindness toward the bird, +and toward all the animal creation, which is produced by a sort of +sympathetic action, a power somewhat similar to what in physical +philosophy is called <i>induction</i>. On the other hand, if the +father, instead of feeding the bird, goes eagerly for a gun, in order +that he may shoot it, the boy will sympathize in that desire, and +growing up under such an influence, there will be gradually formed +within him, through the mysterious tendency of the youthful heart to +vibrate in unison with hearts that are near, a disposition to kill and +destroy all helpless beings that come within his power. There is no +need of any formal instruction in either case. Of a thousand children +brought up under the former of the above-described influences, nearly +every one, when he sees a bird, will wish to go and get crumbs to feed +it, while in the latter case, nearly every one will just as certainly +look for a stone. Thus the growing up in the right atmosphere, rather +than the receiving of the right instruction, is the condition which +it is most important to secure, in plans for forming the characters of +children.</p> + +<p>It is in accordance with this philosophy that these stories, though +written mainly with a view to their moral influence on the hearts and +dispositions of the readers, contain very little formal exhortation +and instruction. They present quiet and peaceful pictures of happy +domestic life, portraying generally such conduct, and expressing such +sentiments and feelings, as it is desirable to exhibit and express in +the presence of children.</p> + +<p>The books, however, will be found, perhaps, after all, to be useful +mainly in entertaining and amusing the youthful readers who may peruse +them, as the writing of them has been the amusement and recreation of +the author in the intervals of more serious pursuits.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>CONTENTS.</h2> + +<p><b>CHAPTER</b></p> +<ul> + <li><a href="#CHAPTER_I">I.—JEMMY</a></li> + <li><a href="#CHAPTER_II">II.—THE BRIDE</a></li> + <li><a href="#CHAPTER_III">III.—MARY ERSKINE'S VISITORS</a></li> + <li><a href="#CHAPTER_IV">IV.—CALAMITY</a></li> + <li><a href="#CHAPTER_V">V.—CONSULTATIONS</a></li> + <li><a href="#CHAPTER_VI">VI.—MARY BELL IN THE WOODS</a></li> + <li><a href="#CHAPTER_VII">VII.—HOUSE-KEEPING</a></li> + <li><a href="#CHAPTER_VIII">VIII.—THE SCHOOL</a></li> + <li><a href="#CHAPTER_IX">IX.—GOOD MANAGEMENT</a></li> + <li><a href="#CHAPTER_X">X.—THE VISIT TO MARY ERSKINE'S</a></li> +</ul> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>ENGRAVINGS.</h2> + +<ul> + <li><a href="#pic01a">MARY ERSKINE'S FARM—FRONTISPIECE.</a></li> + <li><a href="#pic02">CATCHING THE HORSE</a></li> + <li><a href="#pic03">THE LOG HOUSE</a></li> + <li><a href="#pic04">MARY BELL AT THE BROOK</a></li> + <li><a href="#pic05">THE WIDOW AND THE FATHERLESS</a></li> + <li><a href="#pic06">MRS. BELL</a></li> + <li><a href="#pic07">MARY BELL AND QUEEN BESS</a></li> + <li><a href="#pic08">MARY BELL GETTING BREAKFAST</a></li> + <li><a href="#pic09">THE SCHOOL</a></li> + <li><a href="#pic10">GOING TO COURT</a></li> + <li><a href="#pic11">THE STRAWBERRY PARTY</a></li> +</ul> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3>THE FRANCONIA STORIES. +<br /><br /></h3> +<div class="pic-centre"> +<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="7" summary="Books in the Franconia series, in order."> +<caption>ORDER OF THE VOLUMES.</caption> + <tr><td>MALLEVILLE.</td><td>RODOLPHUS.</td></tr> + <tr><td>WALLACE.</td><td>ELLEN LINN.</td></tr> + <tr><td>MARY ERSKINE.</td><td>STUYVESANT.</td></tr> + <tr><td>MARY BELL.</td><td>CAROLINE.</td></tr> + <tr><td>BEECHNUT.</td><td>AGNES.</td></tr> +</table> +</div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h4>SCENE OF THE STORY</h4> + +<p>The country in the vicinity of Franconia, at the North.</p> +<p> </p> +<h4>PRINCIPAL PERSONS</h4> + +<p>MARY ERSKINE.</p> + +<p>ALBERT.</p> + +<p>PHONNY and MALLEVILLE, cousins, residing at the house of Phonny's +mother.</p> + +<p>MRS. HENRY, Phonny's mother.</p> + +<p>ANTONIO BLANCHINETTE, a French boy, residing at Mrs. Henry's; commonly +called Beechnut.</p> + +<p>MRS. BELL, a widow lady, living in the vicinity of Mrs. Henry's.</p> + +<p>MARY BELL, her daughter.</p> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3><a name="CHAPTER_I" id="CHAPTER_I" />CHAPTER I.<br /><br />JEMMY.</h3> + + +<p>Malleville and her cousin Phonny generally played together at +Franconia a great part of the day, and at night they slept in two +separate recesses which opened out of the same room. These recesses +were deep and large, and they were divided from the room by curtains, +so that they formed as it were separate chambers: and yet the children +could speak to each other from them in the morning before they got up, +since the curtains did not intercept the sound of their voices. They +might have talked in the same manner at night, after they had gone to +bed, but this was against Mrs. Henry's rules.</p> + +<p>One morning Malleville, after lying awake a few minutes, listening to +the birds that were singing in the yard, and wishing that the window +was open so that she could hear them more distinctly, heard Phonny's +voice calling to her.</p> + +<p>"Malleville," said he, "are you awake?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Malleville, "are you?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Phonny, "I'm awake—but what a cold morning it is!"</p> + +<p>It was indeed a cold morning, or at least a very <i>cool</i> one. +This was somewhat remarkable, as it was in the month of June. But the +country about Franconia was cold in winter, and cool in summer. Phonny +and Malleville rose and dressed themselves, and then went down stairs. +They hoped to find a fire in the sitting-room, but there was none.</p> + +<p>"How sorry I am," said Phonny. "But hark, I hear a roaring."</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Malleville; "it is the oven; they are going to bake."</p> + +<p>The back of the oven was so near to the partition wall which formed +one side of the sitting-room, that the sound of the fire could be +heard through it. The mouth of the oven however opened into +another small room connected with the kitchen, which was called the +baking-room. The children went out into the baking-room, to warm +themselves by the oven fire.</p> + +<p>"I am very glad that it is a cool day," said Phonny, "for perhaps +mother will let us go to Mary Erskine's. Should not you like to go?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Malleville, "very much. Where is it?"</p> + +<p>The readers who have perused the preceding volumes of this series +will have observed that Mary Bell, who lived with her mother in the +pleasant little farm-house at a short distance from the village, was +always called by her full name, Mary Bell, and not ever, or scarcely +ever, merely Mary. People had acquired the habit of speaking of her in +this way, in order to distinguish her from another Mary who lived with +Mrs. Bell for several years. This other Mary was Mary Erskine. Mary +Erskine did not live now at Mrs. Bell's, but at another house which +was situated nearly two miles from Mrs. Henry's, and the way to it +was by a very wild and unfrequented road. The children were frequently +accustomed to go and make Mary Erskine a visit; but it was so long a +walk that Mrs. Henry never allowed them to go unless on a very cool +day.</p> + +<p>At breakfast that morning Phonny asked his mother if that would not be +a good day for them to go and see Mary Erskine. Mrs. Henry said that +it would be an excellent day, and that she should be very glad to have +them go, for there were some things there to be brought home. Besides +Beechnut was going to mill, and he could carry them as far as Kater's +corner.</p> + +<p>Kater's corner was a place where a sort of cart path, branching off +from the main road, led through the woods to the house where Mary +Erskine lived. It took its name from a farmer, whose name was Kater, +and whose house was at the corner where the roads diverged. The main +road itself was very rough and wild, and the cart path which led from +the corner was almost impassable in summer, even for a wagon, though +it was a very romantic and beautiful road for travelers on horseback +or on foot. In the winter the road was excellent: for the snow buried +all the roughness of the way two or three feet deep, and the teams +which went back and forth into the woods, made a smooth and beautiful +track for every thing on runners, upon the top of it.</p> + +<p>Malleville and Phonny were very much pleased with the prospect of +riding a part of the way to Mary Erskine's, with Beechnut, in the +wagon. They made themselves ready immediately after breakfast, and +then went and sat down upon the step of the door, waiting for Beechnut +to appear. Beechnut was in the barn, harnessing the horse into the +wagon.</p> + +<p>Malleville sat down quietly upon the step while waiting for Beechnut. +Phonny began to amuse himself by climbing up the railing of the +bannisters, at the side of the stairs. He was trying to poise himself +upon the top of the railing and then to work himself up the ascent +by pulling and pushing with his hands and feet against the bannisters +themselves below.</p> + +<p>"I wish you would not do that," said Malleville. "I think it is very +foolish, for you may fall and hurt yourself."</p> + +<p>"No," said Phonny. "It is not foolish. It is very useful for me to +learn to climb." So saying he went on scrambling up the railing of the +bannisters as before.</p> + +<p>Just then Beechnut came along through the yard, towards the house. He +was coming for the whip.</p> + +<p>"Beechnut," said Malleville, "I wish that you would speak to Phonny."</p> + +<p>"<i>Is</i> it foolish for me to learn to climb?" asked Phonny. In +order to see Beechnut while he asked this question, Phonny had to +twist his head round in a very unusual position, and look out under +his arm. It was obvious that in doing this he was in imminent danger +of falling, so unstable was the equilibrium in which he was poised +upon the rail.</p> + +<p>"Is not he foolish?" asked Malleville.</p> + +<p>Beechnut looked at him a moment, and then said, as he resumed his walk +through the entry,</p> + +<p>"Not very;—that is for a boy. I have known boys sometimes to do +foolisher things than that."</p> + +<p>"What did they do?" asked Phonny.</p> + +<p>"Why once," said Beechnut, "I knew a boy who put his nose into the +crack of the door, and then took hold of the latch and pulled the +door to, and pinched his nose to death. That was a <i>little</i> more +foolish, though not much."</p> + +<p>So saying Beechnut passed through the door and disappeared.</p> + +<p>Phonny was seized with so violent a convulsion of laughter at the idea +of such absurd folly as Beechnut had described, that he tumbled off +the bannisters, but fortunately he fell <i>in</i>, towards the stairs, +and was very little hurt. He came down the stairs to Malleville, and +as Beechnut returned in a few minutes with the whip, they all went out +towards the barn together.</p> + +<p>Beechnut had already put the bags of grain into the wagon behind, +and now he assisted Phonny and Malleville to get in. He gave them the +whole of the seat, in order that they might have plenty of room, and +also that they might be high up, where they could see. He had a small +bench which was made to fit in, in front, and which he was accustomed +to use for himself, as a sort of driver's seat, whenever the wagon was +full. He placed this bench in its place in front, and taking his seat +upon it, he drove away.</p> + +<p>When the party had thus fairly set out, and Phonny and Malleville had +in some measure finished uttering the multitude of exclamations of +delight with which they usually commenced a ride, they began to wish +that Beechnut would tell them a story. Now Beechnut was a boy of +boundless fertility of imagination, and he was almost always ready to +tell a story. His stories were usually invented on the spot, and were +often extremely wild and extravagant, both in the incidents involved +in them, and in the personages whom he introduced as actors. The +extravagance of these tales was however usually no objection to them +in Phonny's and Malleville's estimation. In fact Beechnut observed +that the more extravagant his stories were, the better pleased his +auditors generally appeared to be in listening to them. He therefore +did not spare invention, or restrict himself by any rules either of +truth or probability in his narratives. Nor did he usually require any +time for preparation, but commenced at once with whatever came into +his head, pronouncing the first sentence of his story, very often +without any idea of what he was to say next.</p> + +<p>On this occasion Beechnut began as follows:</p> + +<p>"Once there was a girl about three years old, and she had a large +black cat. The cat was of a jet black color, and her fur was very soft +and glossy. It was as soft as silk.</p> + +<p>"This cat was very mischievous and very sly. She was <i>very</i> sly: +very indeed. In fact she used to go about the house so very slyly, +getting into all sorts of mischief which the people could never find +out till afterwards, that they gave her the name of Sligo. Some people +said that the reason why she had that name was because she came from +a place called Sligo, in Ireland. But that was not the reason. It was +veritably and truly because she was so sly."</p> + +<p>Beechnut pronounced this decision in respect to the etymological +import of the pussy's name in the most grave and serious manner, and +Malleville and Phonny listened with profound attention.</p> + +<p>"What was the girl's name?" asked Malleville.</p> + +<p>"The girl's?" repeated Beechnut. "Oh, her name was—Arabella."</p> + +<p>"Well, go on," said Malleville.</p> + +<p>"One day," continued Beechnut, "Sligo was walking about the house, +trying to find something to do. She came into the parlor. There was +nobody there. She looked about a little, and presently she saw a +work-basket upon the corner of a table, where Arabella's mother had +been at work. Sligo began to look at the basket, thinking that it +would make a good nest for her to sleep in, if she could only get it +under the clock. The clock stood in a corner of the room.</p> + +<p>"Sligo accordingly jumped up into a chair, and from the chair to the +table, and then pushing the basket along nearer and nearer to the edge +of the table, she at last made it fall over, and all the sewing and +knitting work, and the balls, and needles, and spools, fell out upon +the floor. Sligo then jumped down and pushed the basket along toward +the clock. She finally got it under the clock, crept into it, curled +herself round into the form of a semicircle inside, so as just to fill +the basket, and went to sleep.</p> + +<p>"Presently Arabella came in, and seeing the spools and balls upon +the floor, began to play with them. In a few minutes more, Arabella's +mother came in, and when she saw Arabella playing with these things +upon the floor, she supposed that Arabella herself was the rogue that +had thrown the basket off the table. Arabella could not talk much. +When her mother accused her of doing this mischief, she could only say +"No;" "no;" but her mother did not believe her. So she made her go and +stand up in the corner of the room, for punishment, while Sligo peeped +out from under the clock to see."</p> + +<p>"But you said that Sligo was asleep," said Phonny.</p> + +<p>"Yes, she went to sleep," replied Beechnut, "but she waked up when +Arabella's mother came into the room."</p> + +<p>Beechnut here paused a moment to consider what he should say next, +when suddenly he began to point forward to a little distance before +them in the road, where a boy was to be seen at the side of the road, +sitting upon a stone.</p> + +<p>"I verily believe it is Jemmy," said he.</p> + +<p>As the wagon approached the place where Jemmy was sitting, they +found that he was bending down over his foot, and moaning with, pain. +Beechnut asked him what was the matter. He said that he had sprained +his foot dreadfully. Beechnut stopped the horse, and giving the +reins to Phonny, he got out to see. Phonny immediately gave them to +Malleville, and followed.</p> + +<p>"Are you much hurt?" asked Beechnut.</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes," said Jemmy, moaning and groaning; "oh dear me!"</p> + +<p>Beechnut then went back to the horse, and taking him by the bridle, +he led him a little way out of the road, toward a small tree, where +he thought he would stand, and then taking Malleville out, so that +she might not be in any danger if the horse should chance to start, he +went back to Jemmy.</p> + +<p>"You see," said Jemmy, "I was going to mill, and I was riding along +here, and the horse pranced about and threw me off and sprained my +foot. Oh dear me! what shall I do?"</p> + +<p>"Where is the horse?" asked Beechnut.</p> + +<p>"There he is," said Jemmy, "somewhere out there. He has gone along the +road. And the bags have fallen off too. Oh dear me!"</p> + +<p>Phonny ran out into the road, and looked forward. He could see the +horse standing by the side of the road at some distance, quietly +eating the grass. A little this side of the place where the horse +stood, the bags were lying upon the ground, not very far from each +other.</p> + +<p>The story which Jemmy told was not strictly true. He was one of the +boys of the village, and was of a wild and reckless character. This +was, however, partly his father's fault, who never gave him any kind +and friendly instruction, and always treated him with a great degree +of sternness and severity.</p> + +<p>A circus company had visited Franconia a few weeks before the time of +this accident, and Jemmy had peeped through the cracks of the fence +that formed their enclosure, and had seen the performers ride around +the ring, standing upon the backs of the horses. He was immediately +inspired with the ambition to imitate this feat, and the next time +that he mounted his father's horse, he made the attempt to perform it. +His father, when he found it out, was very angry with him, and sternly +forbade him ever to do such a thing again. He declared positively that +if he did, he would whip him to death, as he said. Jemmy was silent, +but he secretly resolved that he would ride standing again, the very +first opportunity.</p> + +<p>Accordingly, when his father put the two bags of grain upon the horse, +and ordered Jemmy to go to mill with them, Jemmy thought that the +opportunity had come. He had observed that the circus riders, instead +of a saddle, used upon the backs of their horses a sort of flat pad, +which afforded a much more convenient footing than any saddle; and as +to standing on the naked back of a horse, it was manifestly impossible +for any body but a rope-dancer. When, however, Jemmy saw his father +placing the bags of grain upon the horse, he perceived at once that a +good broad and level surface was produced by them, which was much +more extended and level, even than the pads of the circus-riders. He +instantly resolved, that the moment that he got completely away from +the village, he would mount upon the bags and ride standing—and ride +so, too, just as long as he pleased.</p> + +<p>Accordingly, as soon as he had passed the house where Phonny lived, +which was the last house in that direction for some distance, he +looked round in order to be sure that his father was not by any +accident behind him, and then climbing up first upon his knees, and +afterward upon his feet, he drew up the reins cautiously, and then +chirruped to the horse to go on. The horse began to move slowly along. +Jemmy was surprised and delighted to find how firm his footing was +on the broad surface of the bags. Growing more and more bold and +confident as he became accustomed to his situation, he began presently +to dance about, or rather to perform certain awkward antics, which +he considered dancing, looking round continually, with a mingled +expression of guilt, pleasure, and fear, in his countenance, in order +to be sure that his father was not coming. Finally, he undertook to +make his horse trot a little. The horse, however, by this time, +began to grow somewhat impatient at the unusual sensations which +he experienced—the weight of the rider being concentrated upon one +single point, directly on his back, and resting very unsteadily +and interruptedly there,—and the bridle-reins passing up almost +perpendicularly into the air, instead of declining backwards, as they +ought to do in any proper position of the horseman. He began to trot +forward faster and faster. Jemmy soon found that it would be prudent +to restrain him, but in his upright position, he had no control +over the horse by pulling the reins. He only pulled the horse's head +upwards, and made him more uneasy and impatient than before. He then +attempted to get down into a sitting posture again, but in doing +so, he fell off upon the hard road and sprained his ankle. The horse +trotted rapidly on, until the bags fell off, first one and then the +other. Finding himself thus wholly at liberty, he stopped and began +to eat the grass at the road-side, wholly unconcerned at the mischief +that had been done.</p> + +<p>Jemmy's distress was owing much more to his alarm and his sense of +guilt, than to the actual pain of the injury which he had suffered. He +was, however, entirely disabled by the sprain.</p> + +<p>"It is rather a hard case," said Beechnut, "no doubt, but never mind +it, Jemmy. A man may break his leg, and yet live to dance many a +hornpipe afterwards. You'll get over all this and laugh about it one +day. Come, I'll carry you home in my wagon."</p> + +<p>"But I am afraid to go home," said Jemmy.</p> + +<p>"What are you afraid of?" asked Beechnut.</p> + +<p>"Of my father," said Jemmy.</p> + +<p>"Oh no," said Beechnut. "The horse is not hurt, and as for the grist +I'll carry it to mill with mine. So there is no harm done. Come, let +me put you into the wagon."</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Phonny, "and I will go and catch the horse."</p> + +<p>While Beechnut was putting Jemmy into the wagon, Phonny ran along the +road toward the horse. The horse, hearing footsteps, and supposing +from the sound that somebody might be coming to catch him, was at +first disposed to set off and gallop away; but looking round and +seeing that it was nobody but Phonny he went on eating as before. +When Phonny got pretty near to the horse, he began to walk up slowly +towards him, putting out his hand as if to take hold of the bridle and +saying, "Whoa—Dobbin,—whoa." The horse raised his head a little +from the grass, shook it very expressively at Phonny, walked on a few +steps, and then began to feed upon the grass as before. He seemed +to know precisely how much resistance was necessary to avoid the +recapture with which he was threatened.</p> + +<p>"Whoa Jack! whoa!" said Phonny, advancing again. The horse, however, +moved on, shaking his head as before. He seemed to be no more disposed +to recognize the name of Jack than Dobbin.</p> + +<p>"Jemmy," said Phonny, turning back and calling out aloud, "Jemmy! +what's his name?"</p> + +<p>Jemmy did not answer. He was fully occupied in getting into the wagon.</p> + +<p class="pic-centre"> +<a name="pic02" id="pic02" /> +<img src="images/pic0002.jpg" width="500" height="469" alt="An engraving of Beechnut catching the horse." title="Catching the horse." /> +</p> + +<p>Beechnut called Phonny back and asked him to hold his horse, while he +went to catch Jemmy's. He did it by opening one of the bags and taking +out a little grain, and by means of it enticing the stray horse near +enough to enable him to take hold of the bridle. He then fastened him +behind the wagon, and putting Jemmy's two bags in, he turned round and +went back to carry Jemmy home, leaving Malleville and Phonny to walk +the rest of the way to Mary Erskine's. Besides their ride, they lost +the remainder of the story of Sligo, if that can be said to be lost +which never existed. For at the time when Beechnut paused in his +narration, he had told the story as far as he had invented it. He had +not thought of another word.</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3><a name="CHAPTER_II" id="CHAPTER_II" />CHAPTER II.<br /><br />THE BRIDE.</h3> + + +<p>Mary Erskine was an orphan. Her mother died when she was about twelve +years old. Her father had died long before, and after her father's +death her mother was very poor, and lived in so secluded and solitary +a place, that Mary had no opportunity then to go to school. She +began to work too as soon as she was able to do any thing, and it was +necessary from that day forward for her to work all the time; and this +would have prevented her from going to school, if there had been one +near. Thus when her mother died, although she was an intelligent and +very sensible girl, she could neither read nor write a word. She told +Mrs. Bell the day that she went to live with her, that she did not +even know any of the letters, except the round one and the crooked +one. The round one she said she <i>always</i> knew, and as for S she +learned that, because it stood for Erskine. This shows how little she +knew about spelling.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Bell wanted Mary Erskine to help her in taking care of her own +daughter Mary, who was then an infant. As both the girls were named +Mary, the people of the family and the neighbors gradually fell +into the habit of calling each of them by her full name, in order to +distinguish them from each other. Thus the baby was never called Mary, +but always Mary Bell, and the little nursery maid was always known as +Mary Erskine.</p> + +<p>Mary Erskine became a great favorite at Mrs. Bell's. She was of a +very light-hearted and joyous disposition, always contented and happy, +singing like a nightingale at her work all the day long, when she +was alone, and cheering and enlivening all around her by her buoyant +spirits when she was in company. When Mary Bell became old enough to +run about and play, Mary Erskine became her playmate and companion, +as well as her protector. There was no distinction of rank to separate +them. If Mary Bell had been as old as Mary Erskine and had had a +younger sister, her duties in the household would have been exactly +the same as Mary Erskine's were. In fact, Mary Erskine's position was +altogether that of an older sister, and strangers visiting, the family +would have supposed that the two girls were really sisters, had they +not both been named Mary.</p> + +<p>Mary Erskine was about twelve years older than Mary Bell, so that when +Mary Bell began to go to school, which was when she was about five +years old, Mary Erskine was about seventeen. Mrs. Bell had proposed, +when Mary Erskine first came to her house, that she would go to school +and learn to read and write; but Mary had been very much disinclined +to do so. In connection with the amiableness and gentleness of her +character and her natural good sense, she had a great deal of pride +and independence of spirit; and she was very unwilling to go to +school—being, as she was, almost in her teens—and begin there to +learn her letters with the little children. Mrs. Bell ought to have +required her to go, notwithstanding her reluctance, or else to have +made some other proper arrangement for teaching her to read and write. +Mrs. Bell was aware of this in fact, and frequently resolved that she +would do so. But she postponed the performance of her resolution from +month to month and year to year, and finally it was not performed at +all. Mary Erskine was so very useful at home, that a convenient time +for sparing her never came. And then besides she was so kind, and so +tractable, and so intent upon complying with all Mrs. Bell's wishes, +in every respect, that Mrs. Bell was extremely averse to require any +thing of her, which would mortify her, or give her pain.</p> + +<p>When Mary Erskine was about eighteen years old, she was walking home +one evening from the village, where she had been to do some shopping +for Mrs. Bell, and as she came to a solitary part of the road after +having left the last house which belonged to the village, she saw a +young man coming out of the woods at a little distance before her. She +recognized him, immediately, as a young man whom she called Albert, +who had often been employed by Mrs. Bell, at work about the farm and +garden. Albert was a very sedate and industrious young man, of frank +and open and manly countenance, and of an erect and athletic form. +Mary Erskine liked Albert very well, and yet the first impulse was, +when she saw him coming, to cross over to the other side of the road, +and thus pass him at a little distance. She did in fact take one or +two steps in that direction, but thinking almost immediately that it +would be foolish to do so, she returned to the same side of the road +and walked on. Albert walked slowly along towards Mary Erskine, until +at length they met.</p> + +<p>"Good evening, Mary Erskine," said Albert.</p> + +<p>"Good evening, Albert," said Mary Erskine.</p> + +<p>Albert turned and began to walk along slowly, by Mary Erskine's side.</p> + +<p>"I have been waiting here for you more than two hours," said Albert.</p> + +<p>"Have you?" said Mary Erskine. Her heart began to beat, and she was +afraid to say any thing more, for fear that her voice would tremble,</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Albert. "I saw you go to the village, and I wanted to +speak to you when you came back."</p> + +<p>Mary Erskine walked along, but did not speak.</p> + +<p>"And I have been waiting and watching two months for you to go to the +village," continued Albert.</p> + +<p>"I have not been much to the village, lately," said Mary.</p> + +<p>Here there was a pause of a few minutes, when Albert said again,</p> + +<p>"Have you any objection to my walking along with you here a little +way, Mary?"</p> + +<p>"No," said Mary, "not at all."</p> + +<p>"Mary," said Albert, after another short pause, "I have got a hundred +dollars and my axe,—and this right arm. I am thinking of buying a +lot of land, about a mile beyond Kater's corner. If I will do it, and +build a small house of one room there, will you come and be my wife? +It will have to be a <i>log</i> house at first."</p> + +<p>Mary Erskine related subsequently to Mary Bell what took place at this +interview, thus far, but she would never tell the rest.</p> + +<p>It was evident, however, that Mary Erskine was inclined to accept this +proposal, from a conversation which took place between her and Mrs. +Bell the next evening. It was after tea. The sun had gone down, +and the evening was beautiful. Mrs. Bell was sitting in a low +rocking-chair, on a little covered platform, near the door, which they +called the stoop. There were two seats, one on each side of the stoop, +and there was a vine climbing over it. Mrs. Bell was knitting. Mary +Bell, who was then about six years old, was playing about the yard, +watching the butterflies, and gathering flowers.</p> + +<p>"You may stay here and play a little while," said Mary Erskine to Mary +Bell. "I am going to talk with your mother a little; but I shall be +back again pretty soon."</p> + +<p>Mary Erskine accordingly went to the stoop where Mrs. Bell was +sitting, and took a seat upon the bench at the side of Mrs. Bell, +though rather behind than before her. There was a railing along +behind the seat, at the edge of the stoop and a large white rose-bush, +covered with roses, upon the other side.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Bell perceived from Mary Erskine's air and manner that she +had something to say to her, so after remarking that it was a very +pleasant evening, she went on knitting, waiting for Mary Erskine to +begin.</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Bell," said Mary.</p> + +<p>"Well," said Mrs. Bell.</p> + +<p>The trouble was that Mary Erskine did not know exactly <i>how</i> to +begin.</p> + +<p>She paused a moment longer and then making a great effort she said,</p> + +<p>"Albert wants me to go and live with him."</p> + +<p>"Does he?" said Mrs. Bell. "And where does he want you to go and +live?"</p> + +<p>"He is thinking of buying a farm," said Mary Erskine.</p> + +<p>"Where?" said Mrs. Bell.</p> + +<p>"I believe the land is about a mile from Kater's corner."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Bell was silent for a few minutes. She was pondering the thought +now for the first time fairly before her mind, that the little +helpless orphan child that she had taken under her care so many years +ago, had really grown to be a woman, and must soon, if not then, begin +to form her own independent plans of life. She looked at little Mary +Bell too, playing upon the grass, and wondered what she would do when +Mary Erskine was gone.</p> + +<p>After a short pause spent in reflections like these, Mrs. Bell resumed +the conversation by saying,</p> + +<p>"Well, Mary,—and what do you think of the plan?"</p> + +<p>"Why—I don't know," said Mary Erskine, timidly and doubtfully.</p> + +<p>"You are very young," said Mrs. Bell.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Mary Erskine, "I always was very young. I was very young +when my father died; and afterwards, when my mother died, I was very +young to be left all alone, and to go out to work and earn my living. +And now I am very young, I know. But then I am eighteen."</p> + +<p>"Are you eighteen?" asked Mrs. Bell.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Mary Erskine, "I was eighteen the day before yesterday."</p> + +<p>"It is a lonesome place,—out beyond Kater's Corner," said Mrs. Bell, +after another pause.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Mary Erskine, "but I am not afraid of lonesomeness. I +never cared about seeing a great many people."</p> + +<p>"And you will have to work very hard," continued Mrs. Bell.</p> + +<p>"I know that," replied Mary; "but then I am not afraid of work any +more than I am of lonesomeness. I began to work when I was five years +old, and I have worked ever since,—and I like it."</p> + +<p>"Then, besides," said Mrs. Bell, "I don't know what I shall do with +<i>my</i> Mary when you have gone away. You have had the care of her +ever since she was born."</p> + +<p>Mary Erskine did not reply to this. She turned her head away farther +and farther from Mrs. Bell, looking over the railing of the stoop +toward the white roses. In a minute or two she got up suddenly from +her seat, and still keeping her face averted from Mrs. Bell, she went +in by the stoop door into the house, and disappeared. In about ten +minutes she came round the corner of the house, at the place where +Mary Bell was playing, and with a radiant and happy face, and tones +as joyous as ever, she told her little charge that they would have one +game of hide and go seek, in the asparagus, and that then it would be +time for her to go to bed.</p> + +<p>Two days after this, Albert closed the bargain for his land, and began +his work upon it. The farm, or rather the lot, for the farm was yet +to be made, consisted of a hundred and sixty acres of land, all in +forest. A great deal of the land was mountainous and rocky, fit only +for woodland and pasturage. There were, however, a great many fertile +vales and dells, and at one place along the bank of a stream, there +was a broad tract which Albert thought would make, when the trees +were felled and it was brought into grass, a "beautiful piece of +intervale."</p> + +<p>Albert commenced his operations by felling several acres of trees, on +a part of his lot which was nearest the corner. A road, which had been +laid out through the woods, led across his land near this place. The +trees and bushes had been cut away so as to open a space wide enough +for a sled road in winter. In summer there was nothing but a wild +path, winding among rocks, stumps, trunks of fallen trees, and other +forest obstructions. A person on foot could get along very well, and +even a horse with a rider upon his back, but there was no chance for +any thing on wheels. Albert said that it would not be possible to get +even a wheelbarrow in.</p> + +<p>Albert, however, took great pleasure in going back and forth over this +road, morning and evening, with his axe upon his shoulder, and a pack +upon his back containing his dinner, while felling his trees. When +they were all down, he left them for some weeks drying in the sun, and +then set them on fire. He chose for the burning, the afternoon of a +hot and sultry day, when a fresh breeze was blowing from the west, +which he knew would fan the flames and increase the conflagration. It +was important to do this, as the amount of subsequent labor which he +would have to perform, would depend upon how completely the trees were +consumed. His fire succeeded beyond his most sanguine expectations, +and the next day he brought Mary Erskine in to see what a "splendid +burn" he had had, and to choose a spot for the log house which he was +going to build for her.</p> + +<p>Mary Erskine was extremely pleased with the appearance of Albert's +clearing. The area which had been opened ascended a little from the +road, and presented a gently undulating surface, which Mary Erskine +thought would make very beautiful fields. It was now, however, one +vast expanse of blackened and smoking ruins.</p> + +<p>Albert conducted Mary Erskine and Mary Bell—for Mary Bell had come in +with them to see the fire,—to a little eminence from which they could +survey the whole scene.</p> + +<p>"Look," said he, "is not that beautiful? Did you ever see a better +burn?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know much about burns," said Mary Erskine, "but I can see +that it will be a beautiful place for a farm. Why we can see the +pond," she added, pointing toward the south.</p> + +<p>This was true. The falling of the trees had opened up a fine view of +the pond, which was distant about a mile from the clearing. There +was a broad stream which flowed swiftly over a gravelly bed along the +lower part of the ground, and a wild brook which came tumbling down +from the mountains, and then, after running across the road, fell into +the larger stream, not far from the corner of the farm. The brook and +the stream formed two sides of the clearing. Beyond them, and along +the other two sides of the clearing, the tall trees of those parts of +the forest which had not been disturbed, rose like a wall and hemmed +the opening closely in.</p> + +<p>Albert and Mary Erskine walked along the road through the whole length +of the clearing, looking out for the best place to build their house.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps it will be lonesome here this winter, Mary," said Albert. "I +don't know but that you would rather wait till next spring."</p> + +<p>Mary Erskine hesitated about her reply. She did, in fact, wish to +come to her new home that fall, and she thought it was proper that +she should express the cordial interest which she felt in Albert's +plans;—but, then, on the other hand, she did not like to say any +thing which might seem to indicate a wish on her part to hasten the +time of their marriage. So she said doubtfully,—"I don't know;—I +don't think that it would be lonesome."</p> + +<p>"What do you mean, Albert," said Mary Bell, "about Mary Erskine's +coming to live here? She can't come and live here, among all these +black stumps and logs."</p> + +<p>Albert and Mary Erskine were too intent upon their own thoughts and +plans to pay any attention to Mary Bell's questions. So they walked +along without answering her.</p> + +<p>"What could we have to <i>do</i> this fall and winter?" asked Mary +Erskine. She wished to ascertain whether she could do any good by +coming at once, or whether it would be better, for Albert's plans, to +wait until the spring.</p> + +<p>"Oh there will be plenty to do," said Albert. "I shall have to work a +great deal, while the ground continues open, in clearing up the land, +and getting it ready for sowing in the spring; and it will be a great +deal better for me to live here, in order to save my traveling back +and forth, so far, every night and morning. Then this winter I shall +have my tools to make,—and to finish the inside of the house, and +make the furniture; and if you have any leisure time you can spin. +But after all it will not be very comfortable for you, and perhaps you +would rather wait until spring."</p> + +<p>"No," said Mary Erskine. "I would rather come this fall."</p> + +<p>"Well," rejoined Albert, speaking in a tone of great satisfaction. +"Then I will get the house up next week, and we will be married very +soon after."</p> + +<p>There were very few young men whose prospects in commencing life were +so fair and favorable as those of Albert. In the first place, he was +not obliged to incur any debt on account of his land, as most young +farmers necessarily do. His land was one dollar an acre. He had one +hundred dollars of his own, and enough besides to buy a winter stock +of provisions for his house. He had expected to have gone in debt for +the sixty dollars, the whole price of the land being one hundred and +sixty; but to his great surprise and pleasure Mary Erskine told him, +as they were coming home from seeing the land after the burn, that she +had seventy-five dollars of her own, besides interest; and that she +should like to have sixty dollars of that sum go toward paying for +the land. The fifteen dollars that would be left, she said, would be +enough to buy the furniture.</p> + +<p>"I don't think that will be quite enough," said Albert.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Mary Erskine. "We shall not want a great deal. We shall +want a table and two chairs, and some things to cook with."</p> + +<p>"And a bed," said Albert.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Mary Erskine, "but I can make that myself. The cloth will +not cost much, and you can get some straw for me. Next summer we can +keep some geese, and so have a feather bed some day."</p> + +<p>"We shall want some knives and forks, and plates," said Albert.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Mary Erskine, "but they will not cost much. I think +fifteen dollars will get us all we need. Besides there is more than +fifteen dollars, for there is the interest."</p> + +<p>The money had been put out at interest in the village.</p> + +<p>"Well," said Albert, "and I can make the rest of the furniture that +we shall need, this winter. I shall have a shop near the house. I have +got the tools already."</p> + +<p>Thus all was arranged. Albert built his house on the spot which Mary +Erskine thought would be the most pleasant for it, the week after her +visit to the land. Three young men from the neighborhood assisted him, +as is usual in such cases, on the understanding that Albert was to +help each of them as many days about their work as they worked +for him. This plan is often adopted by farmers in doing work which +absolutely requires several men at a time, as for example, the raising +of heavy logs one upon another to form the walls of a house. In order +to obtain logs for the building Albert and his helpers cut down fresh +trees from the forest, as the blackened and half-burned trunks, which +lay about his clearing, were of course unsuitable for such a work. +They selected the tallest and straightest trees, and after felling +them and cutting them to the proper length, they hauled them to +the spot by means of oxen. The ground served for a floor, and the +fire-place was made of stones. The roof was formed of sheets of +hemlock bark, laid, like slates upon rafters made of the stems of +slender trees. Albert promised Mary Erskine that, as soon as the snow +came, in the winter, to make a road, so that he could get through the +woods with a load of boards upon a sled, he would make her a floor.</p> + +<p>From this time forward, although Mary Erskine was more diligent and +faithful than ever in performing all her duties at Mrs. Bell's, her +imagination was incessantly occupied with pictures and images of the +new scenes into which she was about to be ushered as the mistress of +her own independent household and home. She made out lists, mentally, +for she could not write, of the articles which it would be best to +purchase. She formed and matured in her own mind all her house-keeping +plans. She pictured to herself the scene which the interior of her +dwelling would present in cold and stormy winter evenings, while she +was knitting at one side of the fire, and Albert was busy at some +ingenious workmanship, on the other; or thought of the beautiful +prospect which she should enjoy in the spring and summer following; +when fields of waving grain, rich with promises of plenty and of +wealth, would extend in every direction around her dwelling. She +cherished, in a word, the brightest anticipations of happiness.</p> + +<p class="pic-centre"> +<a name="pic03" id="pic03" /> +<img src="images/pic0003.jpg" width="500" height="469" alt="An engraving of the log house." title="The Log House." /> +</p> + +<p>The house at length was finished. The necessary furniture which Albert +contrived in some way to get moved to it, was put in; and early in +August Mary Erskine was married. She was married in the morning, and a +party of the villagers escorted her on horseback to her new home.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3><a name="CHAPTER_III" id="CHAPTER_III" />CHAPTER III.<br /> <br />MARY ERSKINE'S VISITORS.</h3> + + +<p>Mary Erskine's anticipations of happiness in being the mistress of her +own independent home were very high, but they were more than realized.</p> + +<p>The place which had been chosen for the house was not only a suitable +one in respect to convenience, but it was a very pleasant one. It was +near the brook which, as has already been said, came cascading down +from among the forests and mountains, and passing along near one side +of Albert's clearing, flowed across the road, and finally emptied into +the great stream. The house was placed near the brook, in order that +Albert might have a watering-place at hand for his horses and cattle +when he should have stocked his farm. In felling the forest Albert +left a fringe of trees along the banks of the brook, that it might be +cool and shady there when the cattle went down to drink. There was a +spring of pure cold water boiling up from beneath some rocks not far +from the brook, on the side toward the clearing. The water from this +spring flowed down along a little mossy dell, until it reached the +brook. The bed over which this little rivulet flowed was stony, and +yet no stones were to be seen. They all had the appearance of rounded +tufts of soft green moss, so completely were they all covered and +hidden by the beautiful verdure.</p> + +<p>Albert was very much pleased when he discovered this spring, and +traced its little mossy rivulet down to the brook. He thought that +Mary Erskine would like it. So he avoided cutting down any of the +trees from the dell, or from around the spring, and in cutting down +those which grew near it, he took care to make them fall away from +the dell, so that in burning they should not injure the trees which he +wished to save. Thus that part of the wood which shaded and sheltered +the spring and the dell, escaped the fire.</p> + +<p>The house was placed in such a position that this spring was directly +behind it, and Albert made a smooth and pretty path leading down to +it; or rather he made the path smooth, and nature made it pretty. For +no sooner had he completed his work upon it than nature began to adorn +it by a profusion of the richest and greenest grass and flowers, +which she caused to spring up on either side. It was so in fact in all +Albert's operations upon his farm. Almost every thing that he did was +for some purpose of convenience and utility, and he himself undertook +nothing more than was necessary to secure the useful end. But his kind +and playful co-operator, nature, would always take up the work +where he left it, and begin at once to beautify it with her rich and +luxuriant verdure. For example, as soon as the fires went out over the +clearing, she began, with her sun and rain, to blanch the blackened +stumps, and to gnaw at their foundations with her tooth of decay. If +Albert made a road or a path she rounded its angles, softened away all +the roughness that his plow or hoe had left in it, and fringed it with +grass and flowers. The solitary and slender trees which had been left +standing here and there around the clearing, having escaped the fire, +she took under her special care—throwing out new and thrifty branches +from them, in every direction, and thus giving them massive and +luxuriant forms, to beautify the landscape, and to form shady retreats +for the flocks and herds which might in subsequent years graze upon +the ground. Thus while Albert devoted himself to the substantial and +useful improvements which were required upon his farm, with a view +simply to profit, nature took the work of ornamenting it under her own +special and particular charge.</p> + +<p>The sphere of Mary Erskine's duties and pleasures was within doors. +Her conveniences for house-keeping were somewhat limited at first, but +Albert, who kept himself busy at work on his land all day, spent the +evenings in his shanty shop, making various household implements and +articles of furniture for her. Mary sat with him, usually, at such +times, knitting by the side of the great, blazing fire, made partly +for the sake of the light that it afforded, and partly for the warmth, +which was required to temper the coolness of the autumnal evenings. +Mary took a very special interest in the progress of Albert's work, +every thing which he made being for her. Each new acquisition, as one +article after another was completed and delivered into her possession, +gave her fresh pleasure: and she deposited it in its proper place in +her house with a feeling of great satisfaction and pride.</p> + +<p>"Mary Erskine," said Albert one evening—for though she was married, +and her name thus really changed, Albert himself, as well as every +body else, went on calling her Mary Erskine just as before—"it +is rather hard to make you wait so long for these conveniences, +especially as there is no necessity for it. We need not have paid for +our land this three years. I might have taken the money and built a +handsome house, and furnished it for you at once."</p> + +<p>"And so have been in debt for the land," said Mary.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Albert. "I could have paid off that debt by the profits of +the farming. I can lay up a hundred dollars a year, certainly."</p> + +<p>"No," said Mary Erskine. "I like this plan the best. We will pay as +we go along. It will be a great deal better to have the three hundred +dollars for something else than to pay old debts with. We will build a +better house than this if we want one, one of these years, when we get +the money. But I like this house very much as it is. Perhaps, however, +it is only because it is my own."</p> + +<p>It was not altogether the idea that it was her own that made Mary +Erskine like her house. The interior of it was very pleasant indeed, +especially after Albert had completed the furnishing of it, and had +laid the floor. It contained but one room, it is true, but that was a +very spacious one. There were, in fact, two apartments enclosed by the +walls and the roof, though only one of them could strictly be called +a room. The other was rather a shed, or stoop, and it was entered from +the front by a wide opening, like a great shed door. The entrance to +the house proper was by a door opening from this stoop, so as to be +sheltered from the storms in winter. There was a very large fire place +made of stones in the middle of one side of the room, with a large +flat stone for a hearth in front of it. This hearth stone was very +smooth, and Mary Erskine kept it always very bright and clean. On +one side of the fire was what they called a settle, which was a long +wooden seat with a very high back. It was placed on the side of the +fire toward the door, so that it answered the purpose of a screen to +keep off any cold currents of air, which might come in on blustering +winter nights, around the door. On the other side of the fire was a +small and very elegant mahogany work table. This was a present to +Mary Erskine from Mrs. Bell on the day of her marriage. There were +drawers in this table containing sundry conveniences. The upper drawer +was made to answer the purpose of a desk, and it had an inkstand in +a small division in one corner. Mrs. Bell had thought of taking this +inkstand out, and putting in some spools, or something else which Mary +Erskine would be able to use. But Mary herself would not allow her to +make such a change. She said it was true that she could not write, but +that was no reason why she should not have an inkstand. So she filled +the inkstand with ink, and furnished the desk completely in other +respects, by putting in six sheets of paper, a pen, and several +wafers. The truth was, she thought it possible that an occasion +might arise some time or other, at which Albert might wish to write +a letter; and if such a case should occur, it would give her great +pleasure to have him write his letter at her desk.</p> + +<p>Beyond the work table, on one of the sides of the room, was a +cupboard, and next to the cupboard a large window. This was the only +window in the house, and it had a sash which would rise and fall. Mary +Erskine had made white curtains for this window, which could be parted +in the middle, and hung up upon nails driven into the logs which +formed the wall of the house, one on each side. Of what use these +curtains could be except to make the room look more snug and pleasant +within, it would be difficult to say; for there was only one vast +expanse of forests and mountains on that side of the house, so that +there was nobody to look in.</p> + +<p>On the back side of the room, in one corner, was the bed. It was +supported upon a bedstead which Albert had made. The bedstead had high +posts, and was covered, like the window, with curtains. In the other +corner was the place for the loom, with the spinning-wheel between the +loom and the bed. When Mary Erskine was using the spinning-wheel, +she brought it out into the center of the room. The loom was not yet +finished. Albert was building it, working upon it from time to time as +he had opportunity. The frame of it was up, and some of the machinery +was made.</p> + +<p>Mary Erskine kept most of her clothes in a trunk; but Albert was +making her a bureau.</p> + +<p>Instead of finding it lonesome at her new home, as Mrs. Bell had +predicted, Mary Erskine had plenty of company. The girls from the +village, whom she used to know, were very fond of coming out to see +her. Many of them were much younger than she was, and they loved to +ramble about in the woods around Mary Erskine's house, and to play +along the bank of the brook. Mary used to show them too, every time +they came, the new articles which Albert had made for her, and to +explain to them the gradual progress of the improvements. Mary Bell +herself was very fond of going to see Mary Erskine,—though she was of +course at that time too young to go alone. Sometimes however Mrs. Bell +would send her out in the morning and let her remain all day, playing, +very happily, around the door and down by the spring. She used to play +all day among the logs and stumps, and upon the sandy beach by the +side of the brook, and yet when she went home at night she always +looked as nice, and her clothes were as neat and as clean as when she +went in the morning. Mrs. Bell wondered at this, and on observing that +it continued to be so, repeatedly, after several visits, she asked +Mary Bell how it happened that Mary Erskine kept her so nice.</p> + +<p>"Oh," said Mary Bell, "I always put on my working frock when I go out +to Mary Erskine's."</p> + +<p>The working frock was a plain, loose woolen dress, which Mary Erskine +made for Mary Bell, and which Mary Bell, always put on in the morning, +whenever she came to the farm. Her own dress was taken off and +laid carefully away upon the bed, under the curtains. Her shoes and +stockings were taken off too, so that she might play in the brook if +she pleased, though Mary Erskine told her it was not best to remain in +the water long enough to have her feet get very cold.</p> + +<p>When Mary Bell was dressed thus in her working frock, she was allowed +to play wherever she pleased, so that she enjoyed almost an absolute +and unbounded liberty. And yet there were some restrictions. She +must not go across the brook, for fear that she might get lost in the +woods, nor go out of sight of the house in any direction. She might +build fires upon any of the stumps or logs, but not within certain +limits of distance from the house, lest she should set the house on +fire. And she must not touch the axe, for fear that she might cut +herself, nor climb upon the wood-pile, for fear that it might fall +down upon her. With some such restrictions as these, she could do +whatever she pleased.</p> + +<p>She was very much delighted, one morning in September, when she was +playing around the house in her working frock, at finding a great hole +or hollow under a stump, which she immediately resolved to have for +her oven. She was sitting down upon the ground by the side of it, and +she began to call out as loud as she could,</p> + +<p>"Mary Erskine! Mary Erskine!"</p> + +<p>But Mary Erskine did not answer. Mary Bell could hear the sound of the +spinning-wheel in the house, and she wondered why the spinner could +not hear her, when she called so loud.</p> + +<p>She listened, watching for the pauses in the buzzing sound of the +wheel, and endeavored to call out in the pauses,—but with no better +success than before. At last she got up and walked along toward the +house, swinging in her hand a small wooden shovel, which Albert had +made for her to dig wells with in the sand on the margin of the brook.</p> + +<p>"Mary Erskine!" said she, when she got to the door of the house, +"didn't you hear me calling for you?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Mary Erskine.</p> + +<p>"Then why did not you come?" said Mary Bell.</p> + +<p>"Because I was disobedient," said Mary Erskine, "and now I suppose I +must be punished."</p> + +<p>"Well," said Mary Bell. The expression of dissatisfaction and reproof +upon Mary Bell's countenance was changed immediately into one of +surprise and pleasure, at the idea of Mary Erskine's being punished +for disobeying <i>her</i>. So she said,</p> + +<p>"Well. And what shall your punishment be?"</p> + +<p>"What did you want me for?" asked Mary Erskine.</p> + +<p>"I wanted you to see my oven."</p> + +<p>"Have you got an oven?" asked Mary Erskine.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Mary Bell, "It is under a stump. I have got some wood, and +now I want some fire."</p> + +<p>"Very well," said Mary Erskine, "get your fire-pan."</p> + +<p>Mary Bell's fire-pan, was an old tin dipper with a long handle. It had +been worn out as a dipper, and so they used to let Mary Bell have it +to carry her fire in. There were several small holes in the bottom of +the dipper, so completely was it worn out: but this made it all the +better for a fire-pan, since the air which came up through the holes, +fanned the coals and kept them alive. This dipper was very valuable, +too, for another purpose. Mary Bell was accustomed, sometimes, to go +down to the brook and dip up water with it, in order to see the water +stream down into the brook again, through these holes, in a sort of a +shower.</p> + +<p>Mary Bell went, accordingly, for her fire-pan, which she found in its +place in the open stoop or shed. She came into the house, and Mary +Erskine, raking open the ashes in the fire-place, took out two large +coals with the tongs, and dropped them into the dipper. Mary Bell held +the dipper at arm's length before her, and began to walk along.</p> + +<p>"Hold it out upon one side," said Mary Erskine, "and then if you fall +down, you will not fall upon your fire."</p> + +<p>Mary Bell, obeying this injunction, went out to her oven and put the +coals in at the mouth of it. Then she began to gather sticks, +and little branches, and strips of birch bark, and other silvan +combustibles, which she found scattered about the ground, and put them +upon the coals to make the fire. She stopped now and then a minute or +two to rest and to listen to the sound of Mary Erskine's spinning. At +last some sudden thought seemed to come into her head, and throwing +down upon the ground a handful of sticks which she had in her hand, +and was just ready to put upon the fire, she got up and walked toward +the house.</p> + +<p>"Mary Erskine," said she, "I almost forgot about your punishment."</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Mary Erskine, "I hoped that you had forgot about it, +altogether."</p> + +<p>"Why?" said Mary Bell.</p> + +<p>"Because," said Mary Erskine, "I don't like to be punished."</p> + +<p>"But you <i>must</i> be punished," said Mary Bell, very positively, +"and what shall your punishment be?"</p> + +<p>"How would it do," said Mary Erskine, going on, however, all the time +with her spinning, "for me to have to give you two potatoes to roast +in your oven?—or one? One potato will be enough punishment for such a +little disobedience."</p> + +<p>"No; two," said Mary Bell.</p> + +<p>"Well, two," said Mary Erskine. "You may go and get them in a pail out +in the stoop. But you must wash them first, before you put them in the +oven. You can wash them down at the brook."</p> + +<p>"I am afraid that I shall get my fingers smutty," said Mary Bell, "at +my oven, for the stump is pretty black."</p> + +<p>"No matter if you do," said Mary Erskine. "You can go down and wash +them at the brook."</p> + +<p>"And my frock, too," said Mary Bell.</p> + +<p>"No matter for that either," said Mary Erskine; "only keep it as clean +as you can."</p> + +<p>So Mary Bell took the two potatoes and went down to the brook to wash +them. She found, however, when she reached the brook, that there was +a square piece of bark lying upon the margin of the water, and she +determined to push it in and sail it, for her ship, putting the two +potatoes on for cargo. After sailing the potatoes about for some time, +her eye chanced to fall upon a smooth spot in the sand, which she +thought would make a good place for a garden. So she determined to +<i>plant</i> her potatoes instead of roasting them.</p> + +<p>She accordingly dug a hole in the sand with her fingers, and put the +potatoes in, and then after covering them, over with the sand, she +went to the oven to get her fire-pan for her watering-pot, in order to +water her garden.</p> + +<p>The holes in the bottom of the dipper made it an excellent +watering-pot, provided the garden to be watered was not too far from +the brook: for the shower would always begin to fall the instant the +dipper was lifted out of the water.</p> + +<p class="pic-centre"> +<a name="pic04" id="pic04" /> +<img src="images/pic0004.jpg" width="500" height="486" alt="An engraving of of Mary Bell in the brook." title="Mary Bell at the brook." /> +</p> + +<p>After watering her garden again and again, Mary Bell concluded on the +whole not to wait for her potatoes to grow, but dug them up and began +to wash them in the brook, to make them ready for the roasting. Her +little feet sank into the sand at the margin of the water while she +held the potatoes in the stream, one in each hand, and watched the +current as it swept swiftly by them. After a while she took them out +and put them in the sun upon a flat stone to dry, and when they were +dry she carried them to her oven and buried them in the hot embers +there.</p> + +<p>Thus Mary Bell would amuse herself, hour after hour of the long +day, when she went to visit Mary Erskine, with an endless variety of +childish imaginings. Her working-frock became in fact, in her mind, +the emblem of complete and perfect liberty and happiness, unbounded +and unalloyed.</p> + +<p>The other children of the village, too, were accustomed to come out +and see Mary Erskine, and sometimes older and more ceremonious company +still. There was one young lady named Anne Sophia, who, having been +a near neighbor of Mrs. Bell's, was considerably acquainted with Mary +Erskine, though as the two young ladies had very different tastes and +habits of mind, they never became very intimate friends. Anne Sophia +was fond of dress and of company. Her thoughts were always running +upon village subjects and village people, and her highest ambition +was to live there. She had been, while Mary Erskine had lived at Mrs. +Bell's, very much interested in a young man named Gordon. He was a +clerk in a store in the village. He was a very agreeable young man, +and much more genteel and polished in his personal appearance than +Albert. He had great influence among the young men of the village, +being the leader in all the excursions and parties of pleasure which +were formed among them. Anne Sophia knew very well that Mr. Gordon +liked to see young ladies handsomely dressed when they appeared in +public, and partly to please him, and partly to gratify that very +proper feeling of pleasure which all young ladies have in appearing +well, she spent a large part of earnings in dress. She was not +particularly extravagant, nor did she get into debt; but she did +not, like Mary Erskine, attempt to lay up any of her wages. She often +endeavored to persuade Mary Erskine to follow her example. "It is of +no use," said she, "for girls like you and me to try to lay up money. +If we are ever married we shall make our husbands take care of us; and +if we are not married we shall not want our savings, for we can always +earn what we need as we go along."</p> + +<p>Mary Erskine had no reply at hand to make to this reasoning, but she +was not convinced by it, so she went on pursuing her own course, +while Anne Sophia pursued hers. Anne Sophia was a very capable and +intelligent girl, and as Mr. Gordon thought, would do credit to any +society in which she might be called to move. He became more and more +interested in her, and it happened that they formed an engagement to +be married, just about the time that Albert made his proposal to Mary +Erskine.</p> + +<p>Mr. Gordon was a very promising business man, and had an offer from +the merchant with whom he was employed as a clerk, to enter into +partnership with him, just before the time of his engagement. +He declined this offer, determining rather to go into business +independently. He had laid up about as much money as Albert had, and +by means of this, and the excellent letters of recommendation which he +obtained from the village people, he obtained a large stock of goods, +on credit, in the city. When buying his goods he also bought a small +quantity of handsome furniture, on the same terms. He hired a store. +He also hired a small white house, with green trees around it, and +a pretty garden behind. He was married nearly at the same time with +Albert, and Anne Sophia in taking possession of her genteel and +beautiful village home, was as happy as Mary Erskine was in her sylvan +solitude. Mr. Gordon told her that he had made a calculation, and he +thought there was no doubt that, if business was tolerably good that +winter, he should be able to clear enough to pay all his expenses and +to pay for his furniture.</p> + +<p>His calculations proved to be correct. Business was very good. He +paid for his furniture, and bought as much more on a new credit in the +spring.</p> + +<p>Anne Sophia came out to make a call upon Mary Erskine, about a +month after she had got established in her new home. She came in the +morning. Mr. Gordon brought her in a chaise as far as to the corner, +and she walked the rest of the way. She was dressed very handsomely, +and yet in pretty good taste. It was not wholly a call of ceremony, +for Anne Sophia felt really a strong attachment to Mary Erskine, and +had a great desire to see her in her new home.</p> + +<p>When she rose to take her leave, after her call was ended, she asked +Mary Erskine to come to the village and see her as soon as she could. +"I meant to have called upon you long before this," said she, "but I +have been so busy, and we have had so much company. But I want to see +you very much indeed. We have a beautiful house, and I have a great +desire to show it to you. I think you have got a beautiful place here +for a farm, one of these days; but you ought to make your husband +build you a better house. He is as able to do it as my husband is to +get me one, I have no doubt."</p> + +<p>Mary Erskine had no doubt either. She did not say so however, but only +replied that she liked her house very well. The real reason why she +liked it so much was one that Anne Sophia did not consider. The reason +was that it was her own. Whereas Anne Sophia lived in a house, which, +pretty as it was, belonged to other people.</p> + +<p>All these things, it must be remembered, took place eight or ten years +before the time when Malleville and Phonny went to visit Mary Erskine, +and when Mary Bell was only four or five years old. Phonny and +Malleville, as well as a great many other children, had grown up from +infancy since that time. In fact, the Jemmy who fell from his horse +and sprained his ankle the day they came, was Jemmy Gordon, Anne +Sophia's oldest son.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3><a name="CHAPTER_IV" id="CHAPTER_IV" />CHAPTER IV.<br /><br />CALAMITY.</h3> + +<p>Both Mary Erskine and Anne Sophia went on very pleasantly and +prosperously, each in her own way, for several years. Every spring +Albert cut down more trees, and made new openings and clearings. He +built barns and sheds about his house, and gradually accumulated quite +a stock of animals. With the money that he obtained by selling the +grain and the grass seed which he raised upon his land, he bought oxen +and sheep and cows. These animals fed in his pastures in the summer, +and in the winter he gave them hay from his barn.</p> + +<p>Mary Erskine used to take the greatest pleasure in getting up early +in the cold winter mornings, and going out with her husband to see +him feed the animals. She always brought in a large pile of wood every +night, the last thing before going to bed, and laid it upon the hearth +where it would be ready at hand for the morning fire. She also had a +pail of water ready, from the spring, and the tea-kettle by the side +of it, ready to be filled. The potatoes, too, which were to be roasted +for breakfast, were always prepared the night before, and placed in an +earthen pan, before the fire. Mary Erskine, in fact, was always very +earnest to make every possible preparation over night, for the work of +the morning. This arose partly from an instinctive impulse which made +her always wish, as she expressed it, "to do every duty as soon as it +came in sight," and partly from the pleasure which she derived from a +morning visit to the animals in the barn. She knew them all by name. +She imagined that they all knew her, and were glad to see her by +the light of her lantern in the morning. It gave her the utmost +satisfaction to see them rise, one after another, from their straw, +and begin eagerly to eat the hay which Albert pitched down to them +from the scaffold, while she, standing below upon the barn floor, held +the lantern so that he could see. She was always very careful to hold +it so that the cows and the oxen could see too.</p> + +<p>One day, when Albert came home from the village, he told Mary Erskine +that he had an offer of a loan of two hundred dollars, from Mr. Keep. +Mr. Keep was an elderly gentleman of the village,—of a mild and +gentle expression of countenance, and white hair. He was a man of +large property, and often had money to lend at interest. He had an +office, where he used to do his business. This office was in a wing of +his house, which was a large and handsome house in the center of the +village. Mr. Keep had a son who was a physician, and he used often to +ask his son's opinion and advice about his affairs. One day when Mr. +Keep was sitting in his office, Mr. Gordon came in and told him that +he had some plans for enlarging his business a little, and wished to +know if Mr. Keep had two or three hundred dollars that he would like +to lend for six months. Mr. Keep, who, though he was a very benevolent +and a very honorable man, was very careful in all his money dealings, +said that he would look a little into his accounts, and see how much +he had to spare, and let Mr. Gordon know the next day.</p> + +<p>That night Mr. Keep asked his son what he thought of lending Mr. +Gordon two or three hundred dollars. His son said doubtfully that he +did not know. He was somewhat uncertain about it. Mr. Gordon was doing +very well, he believed, but then his expenses were quite heavy, and it +was not quite certain how it would turn with him. Mr. Keep then said +that he had two or three hundred dollars on hand which he must dispose +of in some way or other, and he asked his son what he should do with +it. His son recommended that he should offer it to Albert. Albert +formerly lived at Mr. Keep's, as a hired man, so that Mr. Keep knew +him very well.</p> + +<p>"He is going on quite prosperously in his farm, I understand," said +the doctor. "His land is all paid for, and he is getting quite a stock +of cattle, and very comfortable buildings. I think it very likely that +he can buy more stock with the money, and do well with it. And, at all +events, you could not put the money in <i>safer</i> hands."</p> + +<p>"I will propose it to him," said Mr. Keep.</p> + +<p>He did propose it to him that very afternoon, for it happened that +Albert went to the village that day. Albert told Mr. Keep that he was +very much obliged to him for the offer of the money, and that he would +consider whether it would be best for him to take it or not, and let +him know in the morning. So he told Mary Erskine of the offer that he +had had, as soon as he got home.</p> + +<p>"I am very glad to get such an offer," said Albert.</p> + +<p>"Shall you take the money?" said his wife.</p> + +<p>"I don't know," replied Albert. "I rather think not."</p> + +<p>"Then why are you glad to get the offer?" asked Mary Erskine.</p> + +<p>"Oh, it shows that my credit is good in the village. It must be very +good, indeed, to lead such a man as Mr. Keep to offer to lend me +money, of his own accord. It is a considerable comfort to know that I +can get money, whenever I want it, even if I never take it."</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Mary Erskine, "so it is."</p> + +<p>"And it is all owing to you," said Albert.</p> + +<p>"To me?" said Mary Erskine.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said he; "to your prudence and economy, and to your contented +and happy disposition. That is one thing that I always liked you +for. It is so easy to make you happy. There is many a wife, in your +situation, who could not have been happy unless their husband would +build them a handsome house and fill it with handsome furniture—even +if he had to go in debt for his land to pay for it."</p> + +<p>Mary Erskine did not reply, though it gratified her very much to hear +her husband commend her.</p> + +<p>"Well," said she at length, "I am very glad that you have got good +credit. What should you do with the money, if you borrowed it?"</p> + +<p>"Why, one thing that I could do," said Albert, "would be to build a +new house."</p> + +<p>"No," said Mary Erskine, "I like this house very much. I don't want +any other—certainly not until we can build one with our own money."</p> + +<p>"Then," said Albert, "I can buy more stock, and perhaps hire some +help, and get more land cleared this fall, so as to have greater crops +next spring, and then sell the stock when it has grown and increased, +and also the crops, and so get money enough to pay back the debt and +have something over."</p> + +<p>"Should you have much over?" asked Mary.</p> + +<p>"Why that would depend upon how my business turned out,—and that +would depend upon the weather, and the markets, and other things which +we can not now foresee. I think it probable that we should have a good +deal over."</p> + +<p>"Well," said Mary Erskine, "then I would take the money."</p> + +<p>"But, then, on the other hand," said Albert, "I should run some risk +of embarrassing myself, if things did not turn out well. If I were +to be sick, so that I could not attend to so much business, or if I +should Jose any of my stock, or if the crops should not do well, then +I might not get enough to pay back the debt."</p> + +<p>"And what should you do then?" asked Mary Erskine.</p> + +<p>"Why then," replied Albert, "I should have to make up the deficiency +in some other way. I might ask Mr. Keep to put off the payment of the +note, or I might borrow the money of somebody else to pay him, or I +might sell some of my other stock. I could do any of these things well +enough, but it would perhaps cause me some trouble and anxiety."</p> + +<p>"Then I would not take the money," said Mary Erskine. "I don't like +anxiety. I can bear any thing else better than anxiety."</p> + +<p>"However, I don't know any thing about it," continued Mary Erskine, +after a short pause. "You can judge best."</p> + +<p>They conversed on the subject some time longer, Albert being quite +at a loss to know what it was best to do. Mary Erskine, for her part, +seemed perfectly willing that he should borrow the money to buy more +stock, as she liked the idea of having more oxen, sheep, and cows. But +she seemed decidedly opposed to using borrowed money to build a new +house, or to buy new furniture. Her head would ache, she said, to lie +on a pillow of feathers that was not paid for.</p> + +<p>Albert finally concluded not to borrow the money, and so Mr. Keep lent +it to Mr. Gordon.</p> + +<p>Things went on in this way for about three or four years, and then +Albert began to think seriously of building another house. He had +now money enough of his own to build it with. His stock had become so +large that he had not sufficient barn room for his hay, and he did not +wish to build larger barns where he then lived, for in the course of +his clearings he had found a much better place for a house than the +one which they had at first selected. Then his house was beginning to +be too small for his family, for Mary Erskine had, now, two children. +One was an infant, and the other was about two years old. These +children slept in a trundle-bed, which was pushed under the great bed +in the daytime, but still the room became rather crowded. So Albert +determined to build another house.</p> + +<p>Mary Erskine was very much interested in this plan. She would like to +live in a handsome house as well as any other lady, only she preferred +to wait until she could have one of her own. Now that that time had +arrived, she was greatly pleased with the prospect of having her +kitchen, her sitting-room, and her bed-room, in three separate rooms, +instead of having them, as heretofore, all in one. Then the barns and +barn-yards, and the pens and sheds for the sheep and cattle, were all +going to be much more convenient than they had been; so that Albert +could take care of a greater amount of stock than before, with the +same labor. The new house, too, was going to be built in a much more +pleasant situation than the old one, and the road from it to the +corner was to be improved, so that they could go in and out with a +wagon. In a word, Mary Erskine's heart was filled with new hopes and +anticipations, as she saw before her means and sources of happiness, +higher and more extended than she had ever before enjoyed.</p> + +<p>When the time approached for moving into the new house Mary Erskine +occupied herself, whenever she had any leisure time, in packing up +such articles as were not in use. One afternoon while she was engaged +in this occupation, Albert came home from the field much earlier than +usual. Mary Erskine was very glad to see him, as she wished him to +nail up the box in which she had been packing her cups and saucers. +She was at work on the stoop, very near the door, so that she could +watch the children. The baby was in the cradle. The other child, whose +name was Bella, was playing about the floor.</p> + +<p>Albert stopped a moment to look at Mary Erskine's packing, and then +went in and took his seat upon the settle.</p> + +<p>"Tell me when your box is ready," said he, "and I will come and nail +it for you."</p> + +<p>Bella walked along toward her father—for she had just learned to +walk—and attempted to climb up into his lap.</p> + +<p>"Run away, Bella," said Albert.</p> + +<p>Mary Erskine was surprised to hear Albert tell Bella to run away, for +he was usually very glad to have his daughter come to him when he got +home from his work. She looked up to see what was the matter. He was +sitting upon the settle, and leaning his head upon his hand.</p> + +<p>Mary Erskine left her work and went to him.</p> + +<p>"Are you not well, Albert?" said she.</p> + +<p>"My head aches a little. It ached in the field, and that was the +reason why I thought I would come home. But it is better now. Are you +ready for me to come and nail the box?"</p> + +<p>"No," said Mary, "not quite; and besides, it is no matter about it +to-night. I will get you some tea."</p> + +<p>"No," said Albert, "finish your packing first, and I will come and +nail it. Then we can put it out of the way."</p> + +<p>Mary Erskine accordingly finished her packing, and Albert went to it, +to nail the cover on. He drove one or two nails, and then he put the +hammer down, and sat down himself upon the box, saying that he could +not finish the nailing after all. He was too unwell. He went into the +room, Mary Erskine leading and supporting him. She conducted him to +the bed and opened the curtains so as to let him lie down. She helped +him to undress himself, and then left him, a few minutes while she +began to get some tea. She moved the box, which she had been packing, +away from the stoop door, and put it in a corner. She drew out the +trundle-bed, and made, it ready for Bella. She sat down and gave Bella +some supper, and then put her into the trundle-bed, directing her to +shut up her eyes and go to sleep. Bella obeyed.</p> + +<p>Mary Erskine then went to the fire and made some tea and toast for +Albert, doing every thing in as quiet and noiseless a manner as +possible. When the tea and toast were ready she put them upon a small +waiter, and then moving her little work-table up to the side of the +bed, she put the waiter upon it. When every thing was thus ready, she +opened the curtains. Albert was asleep.</p> + +<p>He seemed however to be uneasy and restless, and he moaned now and +then as if in pain. Mary Erskine stood leaning over him for some time, +with a countenance filled with anxiety and concern. She then turned +away, saying to herself, "If Albert is going to be sick and to die, +what <i>will</i> become of me?" She kneeled down upon the floor at +the foot of the bed, crossed her arms before her, laid them down very +quietly upon the counterpane, and reclined her forehead upon them. She +remained in that position for some time without speaking a word.</p> + +<p>Presently she rose and took the tea and toast upon the waiter, and +set them down by the fire in order to keep them warm. She next went to +look at the children, to see if they were properly covered. Then +she opened the bed-curtains a little way in order that she might see +Albert in case he should wake or move, and having adjusted them as she +wished, she went to the stoop door and took her seat there, with her +knitting-work in her hand, in a position from which, on one side she +could look into the room and observe every thing which took place +there, and on the other side, watch the road and see if any one went +by. She thought it probable that some of the workmen, who had been +employed at the new house, might be going home about that time, and +she wished to send into the village by them to ask Dr. Keep to come.</p> + +<p>Mary Erskine succeeded in her design of sending into the village by +one of the workmen, and Dr. Keep came about nine o'clock He prescribed +for Albert, and prepared, and left, some medicine for him. He said he +hoped that he was not going to be very sick, but he could tell better +in the morning when he would come again.</p> + +<p>"But you ought not to be here alone," said he to Mary Erskine. "You +ought to have some one with you."</p> + +<p>"No," said Mary Erskine, "I can get along very well, alone, +to-night,—and I think he will be better in the morning."</p> + +<p>Stories of sickness and suffering are painful to read, as the reality +is painful to witness. We will therefore shorten the tale of Mary +Erskine's anxiety and distress, by saying, at once that Albert grew +worse instead of better, every day for a fortnight, and then died.</p> + +<p>During his sickness Mrs. Bell spent a great deal of time at Mary +Erskine's house, and other persons, from the village, came every day +to watch with Albert, and to help take care of the children. There was +a young man also, named Thomas, whom Mary Erskine employed to come and +stay there all day, to take the necessary care of the cattle and of +the farm. They made a bed for Thomas in the scaffold in the barn. They +also made up a bed in the stoop, in a corner which they divided off +by means of a curtain. This bed was for the watchers, and for Mary +Erskine herself, when she or they wished to lie down. Mary Erskine +went to it, herself very seldom. She remained at her husband's bedside +almost all the time, day and night. Albert suffered very little +pain, and seemed to sleep most of the time. He revived a little the +afternoon before he died, and appeared as if he were going to be +better. He looked up into Mary Erskine's face and smiled. It was +plain, however, that he was very feeble.</p> + +<p>There was nobody but Mrs. Bell in the house, at that time, besides +Mary Erskine and the baby. Bella had gone to Mrs. Bell's house, and +Mary Bell was taking care of her. Albert beckoned his wife to come to +him, and said to her, in a faint and feeble voice, that he wished Mrs. +Bell to write something for him. Mary Erskine immediately brought her +work-table up to the bedside, opened the drawer, took out one of the +sheets of paper and a pen, opened the inkstand, and thus made every +thing ready for writing. Mrs. Bell took her seat by the table in such +a manner that her head was near to Albert's as it lay upon the pillow.</p> + +<p>"I am ready now," said Mrs. Bell.</p> + +<p>"I bequeath all my property,"—said Albert.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Bell wrote these words upon the paper, and then said,</p> + +<p>"Well: I have written that."</p> + +<p>"To Mary Erskine my wife," said Albert.</p> + +<p>"I have written that," said Mrs. Bell, a minute afterwards.</p> + +<p>"Now hand it to me to sign," said Albert.</p> + +<p>They put the paper upon a book, and raising Albert up in the bed, +they put the pen into his hand. He wrote his name at the bottom of the +writing at the right hand. Then moving his hand to the left, he wrote +the word '<i>witness</i>' under the writing on that side. His hand +trembled, but he wrote the word pretty plain. As he finished writing +it he told Mrs. Bell that she must sign her name as witness. When this +had been done he gave back the paper and the pen into Mary Erskine's +hand, and said that she must take good care of that paper, for it was +very important. He then laid his head down again upon the pillow and +shut his eyes. He died that night.</p> + +<p>Mary Erskine was entirely overwhelmed with grief, when she found that +all was over. In a few hours, however, she became comparatively calm, +and the next day she began to help Mrs. Bell in making preparations +for the funeral. She sent for Bella to come home immediately. Mrs. +Bell urged her very earnestly to take both the children, and go with +her to <i>her</i> house, after the funeral, and stay there for a few +days at least, till she could determine what to do.</p> + +<p>"No," said Mary Erskine. "It will be better for me to come back here."</p> + +<p>"What do you think you shall do?" said Mrs. Bell.</p> + +<p>"I don't know," said Mary Erskine. "I can't even begin to think now. I +am going to wait a week before I try to think about it at all."</p> + +<p>"And in the mean time you are going to stay in this house."</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Mary Erskine, "I think that is best."</p> + +<p>"But you must not stay here alone," said Mrs. Bell. "I will come back +with you and stay with you, at least one night."</p> + +<p>"No," said Mary Erskine. "I have got to learn to be alone now, and +I may as well begin at once. I am very much obliged to you for all +your—"</p> + +<p>Here Mary Erskine's voice faltered, and she suddenly stopped. Mrs. +Bell pitied her with all her heart, but she said no more. She remained +at the house while the funeral procession was gone to the grave; and +some friends came back with Mary Erskine, after the funeral. They all, +however, went away about sunset, leaving Mary Erskine alone with her +children.</p> + +<p>As soon as her friends had gone, Mary Erskine took the children and +sat down in a rocking-chair, before the fire, holding them both in +her lap, the baby upon one side and Bella upon the other, and began to +rock back and forth with great rapidity. She kissed the children again +and again, with many tears, and sometimes she groaned aloud, in the +excess of her anguish. She remained sitting thus for half an hour. The +twilight gradually faded away. The flickering flame, which rose from +the fire in the fire-place, seemed to grow brighter as the daylight +disappeared, and to illuminate the whole interior of the room, so as +to give it a genial and cheerful expression. Mary Erskine gradually +became calm. The children, first the baby, and then Bella, fell +asleep. Finally Mary Erskine herself, who was by this time entirely +exhausted with watching, care, and sorrow, fell asleep too. Mary +Erskine slept sweetly for two full hours, and then was awaked by the +nestling of the baby.</p> + +<p class="pic-centre"> +<a name="pic05" id="pic05" /> +<img src="images/pic0005.jpg" width="500" height="486" alt="An engraving of Mary Bell and her children asleep in a rocking chair." title="The widow and the fatherless." /> +</p> + +<p>When Mary Erskine awoke she was astonished to find her mind perfectly +calm, tranquil, and happy. She looked down upon her children—Bella +asleep and the baby just awaking—with a heart full of maternal joy +and pleasure. Her room, it seemed to her, never appeared so bright and +cheerful and happy as then. She carried Bella to the bed and laid her +gently down in Albert's place, and then, going back to the fire, she +gave the baby the food which it required, and rocked it to sleep. +Her heart was resigned, and tranquil, and happy, She put the baby, at +length, into the cradle, and then, kneeling down, she thanked God with +her whole soul for having heard her prayer, and granted her the spirit +of resignation and peace. She then pushed open the curtains, and +reclined herself upon the bed, where she lay for some time, with a +peaceful smile upon her countenance, watching the flashing of a little +tongue, of flame, which broke out at intervals from the end of a brand +in the fire. After lying quietly thus, for a little while, she closed +her eyes, and gradually fell asleep again.</p> + +<p>She slept very profoundly. It was a summer night, although, as usual, +Mary Erskine had a fire. Clouds rose in the west, bringing with them +gusts of wind and rain. The wind and the rain beat against the window, +but they did not wake her. It thundered. The thunder did not wake her. +The shower passed over, and the sky became, serene again, while Mary +Erskine slept tranquilly on. At length the baby began to move in the +cradle. Mary Erskine heard the first sound that its nestling made, and +raised herself up suddenly. The fire had nearly gone out. There was +no flame, and the room was lighted only by the glow of the burning +embers. Mary Erskine was frightened to find herself alone. The +tranquillity and happiness which she had experienced a few hours ago +were all gone, and her mind was filled, instead, with an undefined and +mysterious distress and terror. She went to the fire-place and built +a new fire, for the sake of its company. She took the baby from the +cradle and sat down in the rocking-chair, determining not to go to +bed again till morning. She went to the window and looked out at the +stars, to see if she could tell by them how long it would be before +the morning would come. She felt afraid, though she knew not why, and +holding the baby in her arms, with its head upon her shoulder, she +walked back and forth across the room, in great distress and anguish, +longing for the morning to come. Such is the capriciousness of grief.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3><a name="CHAPTER_V" id="CHAPTER_V" />CHAPTER V.<br /><br />CONSULTATIONS.</h3> + + +<p>Mrs. Bell went home on the evening of the funeral, very much exhausted +and fatigued under the combined effects of watching, anxiety, and +exertion. She went to bed, and slept very soundly until nearly +midnight. The thunder awaked her.</p> + +<p>She felt solitary and afraid. Mary Bell, who was then about nine years +old, was asleep in a crib, in a corner of the room. There was a little +night lamp, burning dimly on the table, and it shed a faint and dismal +gleam upon the objects around it. Every few minutes, however, the +lightning would flash into the windows and glare a moment upon the +walls, and then leave the room in deeper darkness than ever. The +little night lamp, whose feeble beam had been for the moment entirely +overpowered, would then gradually come out to view again, to diffuse +once more its faint illumination, until another flash of lightning +came to extinguish it as before.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Bell rose from her bed, and went to the crib to see if Mary Bell +was safe. She found her sleeping quietly. Mrs. Bell drew the crib out +a little way from the wall, supposing that she should thus put it into +a somewhat safer position. Then she lighted a large lamp. Then +she closed all the shutters of the room, in order to shut out the +lightning. Then she went to bed again, and tried to go to sleep. But +she could not. She was thinking of Mary Erskine, and endeavoring to +form some plan for her future life. She could not, however, determine +what it was best for her to do.</p> + +<p>In the morning, after breakfast, she sat down at the window, with her +knitting work in her hand, looking very thoughtful and sad. Presently +she laid her work down in her lap, and seemed lost in some melancholy +reverie.</p> + +<p>Mary Bell, who had been playing about the floor for some time, came +up to her mother, and seeing her look so thoughtful and sorrowful, she +said,</p> + +<p>"Mother, what is the matter with you?"</p> + +<p>"Why, Mary," said Mrs. Bell, in a melancholy tone, "I was thinking of +poor Mary Erskine."</p> + +<p>"Well, mother," said Mary Bell, "could not you give her a little +money, if she is poor? I will give her my ten cents."</p> + +<p class="pic-centre"> +<a name="pic06" id="pic06" /> +<img src="images/pic0006.jpg" width="500" height="481" alt="An engraving of Mrs. Bell at home." title="Mrs. Bell." /> +</p> + +<p>Mary Bell had a silver piece of ten cents, which she kept in a little +box, in her mother's room up stairs.</p> + +<p>"Oh, she is not poor for want of money," said Mrs. Bell. "Her husband +made his will, before he died, and left her all his property."</p> + +<p>"Though I told Mr. Keep about it last night," continued Mrs. Bell, +talking half to herself and half to Mary, "and he said the will was +not good."</p> + +<p>"Not good," said Mary. "I think it is a very good will indeed. I am +sure Mary Erskine ought to have it all. Who should have it, if not +she?"</p> + +<p>"The children, I suppose," said her mother.</p> + +<p>"The children!" exclaimed Mary Bell. "Hoh! They are not half big +enough. They are only two babies; a great baby and a little one."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Bell did not answer this, nor did she seem to take much notice of +it, but took up her knitting again, and went on musing as before. Mary +Bell did not understand very well about the will. The case was this:</p> + +<p>The law, in the state where Mary Erskine lived, provided that when a +man died, as Albert had done, leaving a wife and children, and a farm, +and also stock, and furniture, and other such movable property, if +he made no will, the wife was to have a part of the property, and the +rest must be saved for the children, in order to be delivered to them, +when they should grow up, and be ready to receive it and use it. The +farm, when there was a farm, was to be kept until the children should +grow up, only their mother was to have one third of the benefit of +it,—that is, one third of the rent of it, if they could let it—until +the children became of age. The amount of the other two thirds was to +be kept for them. In respect to all movable property, such as stock +and tools, and furniture, and other things of that kind, since they +could not very conveniently be kept till the children were old enough +to use them, they were to be sold, and the wife was to have half the +value, and the children the other half.</p> + +<p>In respect to the children's part of all the property, they were +not, themselves, to have the care of it, but some person was to be +appointed to be their guardian. This guardian was to have the care of +all their share of the property, until they were of age, when it was +to be paid over into their hands.</p> + +<p>If, however, the husband, before his death, was disposed to do so, he +might make a will, and give all the property to whomsoever he pleased. +If he decided, as Albert had done, to give it all to his wife, then +it would come wholly under her control, at once. She would be under no +obligation to keep any separate account of the children's share, but +might expend it all herself, or if she were so inclined, she might +keep it safely, and perhaps add to it by the proceeds of her own +industry, and then, when the children should grow up, she might give +them as much as her maternal affection should dictate.</p> + +<p>In order that the property of men who die, should be disposed of +properly, according to law, or according to the will, if any will be +made, it is required that soon after the death of any person takes +place, the state of the case should be reported at a certain public +office, instituted to attend to this business. There is such an office +in every county in the New England states. It is called the Probate +office. The officer, who has this business in charge, is called the +Judge of Probate. There is a similar system in force, in all the +other states of the Union, though the officers are sometimes called by +different names from those which they receive in New England.</p> + +<p>Now, while Albert was lying sick upon his bed, he was occupied a great +deal of the time, while they thought that he was asleep, in thinking +what was to become of his wife and children in case he should die. +He knew very well that in case he died without making any will, his +property must be divided, under the direction of the Judge of Probate, +and one part of it be kept for the children, while Mary Erskine would +have the control only of the other part. This is a very excellent +arrangement in all ordinary cases, so that the law, in itself, is a +very good law. There are, however, some cases, which are exceptions, +and Albert thought that Mary Erskine's case was one. It was owing, +in a great measure, to her prudence and economy, to her efficient +industry, and to her contented and happy disposition, that he had been +able to acquire any property, instead of spending all that he earned, +like Mr. Gordon, as fast as he earned it. Then, besides, he knew +that Mary Erskine would act as conscientiously and faithfully for the +benefit of the children, if the property was all her own, as she +would if a part of it was theirs, and only held by herself, for safe +keeping, as their guardian. Whereas, if this last arrangement went +into effect, he feared that it would make her great trouble to keep +the accounts, as she could not write, not even to sign her name. He +determined, therefore, to make a will, and give all his property, of +every kind, absolutely to her. This he did, in the manner described in +the last chapter.</p> + +<p>The law invests every man with a very absolute power in respect to his +property, authorizing him to make any disposition of it whatever, and +carrying faithfully into effect, after his death, any wish that he may +have expressed in regard to it, as his deliberate and final intention. +It insists, however, that there should be evidence that the wish, so +expressed, is really a deliberate and final act. It is not enough that +the man should say in words what his wishes are. The will must be in +writing, and it must be signed; or if the sick man can not write, he +must make some mark with the pen, at the bottom of the paper, to stand +instead of a signature, and to show that he considers the act, which +he is performing, as a solemn and binding transaction. Nor will it do +to have the will executed in the presence of only one witness; for if +that were allowed, designing persons would sometimes persuade a sick +man, who was rich, to sign a will which they themselves had written, +telling him, perhaps, that it was only a receipt, or some other +unimportant paper, and thus inducing him to convey his property in a +way that he did not intend. The truth is, that there is necessity for +a much greater degree of precautionary form, in the execution of a +will, than in almost any other transaction; for as the man himself +will be dead and gone when the time comes for carrying the will into +effect,—and so can not give any explanation of his designs, it is +necessary to make them absolutely clear and certain, independently +of him. It was, accordingly, the law, in the state where Mary Erskine +lived, that there should be three witnesses present, when any person +signed a will; and also that when signing the paper, the man should +say that he knew that it was his will. If three credible persons thus +attested the reality and honesty of the transaction, it was thought +sufficient, in all ordinary cases, to make it sure.</p> + +<p>Albert, it seems, was not aware how many witnesses were required. When +he requested Mrs. Bell to sign his will, as witness, he thought that +he was doing all that was necessary to make it valid. When, however, +Mrs. Bell, afterwards, in going home, met Mr. Keep and related to +him the transaction, he said that he was afraid that the will was not +good, meaning that it would not stand in law.</p> + +<p>The thought that the will was probably not valid, caused Mrs. Bell a +considerable degree of anxiety and concern, as she imagined that its +failure would probably cause Mary Erskine a considerable degree of +trouble and embarrassment, though she did not know precisely how. She +supposed that the children's share of the property must necessarily be +kept separate and untouched until they grew up, and that in the mean +time their mother would have to work very hard in order to maintain +herself and them too. But this is not the law. The guardian of +children, in such cases, is authorized to expend, from the children's +share of property, as much as is necessary for their maintenance while +they are children; and it is only the surplus, if there is any, which +it is required of her to pay over to them, when they come of age. It +would be obviously unjust, in cases where children themselves have +property left them by legacy, or falling to them by inheritance, to +compel their father or mother to toil ten or twenty years to feed and +clothe them, in order that they might have their property, whole and +untouched, when they come of age. All that the law requires is +that the property bequeathed to children, or falling to them by +inheritance, shall always be exactly ascertained, and an account of it +put upon record in the Probate office: and then, that a guardian shall +be appointed, who shall expend only so much of it, while the children +are young, as is necessary for their comfortable support and proper +education; and then, when they come of age, if there is any surplus +left, that it shall be paid over to them. In Mary Erskine's case, +these accounts would, of course, cause her some trouble, but it would +make but little difference in the end.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Bell spent a great deal of time, during the day, in trying to +think what it would be best for Mary Erskine to do, and also in trying +to think what she could herself do for her. She, however, made very +little progress in respect to either of those points. It seemed to her +that Mary Erskine could not move into the new house, and attempt to +carry on the farm, and, on the other hand, it appeared equally out +of the question for her to remain where she was, in her lonesome log +cabin. She might move into the village, or to some house nearer the +village, but what should she do in that case for a livelihood. In a +word, the more that Mrs. Bell reflected upon the subject, the more at +a loss she was.</p> + +<p>She determined to go and see Mary Erskine after dinner, again, as the +visit would at least be a token of kindness and sympathy, even if it +should do no other good. She arrived at the house about the middle +of the afternoon. She found Mary Erskine busily at work, putting the +house in order, and rectifying the many derangements which sickness +and death always occasion. Mary Erskine received Mrs. Bell at first +with a cheerful smile, and seemed, to all appearance, as contented and +happy as usual. The sight of Mrs. Bell, however, recalled forcibly to +her mind her irremediable loss, and overwhelmed her heart, again, with +bitter grief. She went to the window, where her little work-table +had been placed, and throwing herself down in a chair before it, she +crossed her arms upon the table, laid her forehead down upon them in +an attitude of despair, and burst into tears.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Bell drew up toward her and stood by her side in silence. She +pitied her with all her heart, but she did not know what to say to +comfort her.</p> + +<p>Just then little Bella came climbing up the steps, from the stoop, +with some flowers in her hand, which she had gathered in the yard. As +soon as she had got up into the room she stood upon her feet and went +dancing along toward the baby, who was playing upon the floor, singing +as she danced. She gave the baby the flowers, and then, seeing that +her mother was in trouble, she came up toward the place and stood +still a moment, with a countenance expressive of great concern. She +put her arm around her mother's neck, saying in a very gentle and +soothing tone,</p> + +<p>"Mother! what is the matter, mother?"</p> + +<p>Mary Erskine liberated one of her arms, and clasped Bella with it +fondly, but did not raise her head, or answer.</p> + +<p>"Go and get some flowers for your mother," said Mrs. Bell, "like those +which you got for the baby."</p> + +<p>"Well," said Bella, "I will." So she turned away, and went singing and +dancing out of the room.</p> + +<p>"Mary," said Mrs. Bell. "I wish that you would shut up this house and +take the children and come to my house, at least for a while, until +you can determine what to do."</p> + +<p>Mary Erskine shook her head, but did not reply. She seemed, however, +to be regaining her composure. Presently she raised her head, smoothed +down her hair, which was very soft and beautiful, readjusted her +dress, and sat up, looking out at the window.</p> + +<p>"If you stay here," continued Mrs. Bell, "you will only spend your +time in useless and hopeless grief."</p> + +<p>"No," said Mary Erskine, "I am not going to do any such a thing."</p> + +<p>"Have you begun to think at all what you shall do?" asked Mrs. Bell.</p> + +<p>"No," said Mary Erskine. "When any great thing happens, I always have +to wait a little while till I get accustomed to knowing that it has +happened, before I can determine what to do about it. It seems as if +I did not more than half know yet, that Albert is dead. Every time the +door opens I almost expect to see him come in."</p> + +<p>"Do you think that you shall move to the new house?" asked Mrs. Bell.</p> + +<p>"No," said Mary Erskine, "I see that I can't do that. I don't wish to +move there, either, now."</p> + +<p>"There's one thing," continued Mrs. Bell after a moment's pause, "that +perhaps I ought to tell you, though it is rather bad news for you. Mr. +Keep says that he is afraid that the will, which Albert made, is not +good in law."</p> + +<p>"Not good! Why not?" asked Mary Erskine.</p> + +<p>"Why because there is only one witness The law requires that there +should be three witnesses, so as to be sure that Albert really signed +the will."</p> + +<p>"Oh no," said Mary Erskine. "One witness is enough, I am sure. The +Judge of Probate knows you, and he will believe you as certainly as he +would a dozen witnesses."</p> + +<p>"But I suppose," said Mrs. Bell, "that it does not depend upon the +Judge of Probate. It depends upon the law."</p> + +<p>Mary Erskine was silent. Presently she opened her drawer and took out +the will and looked at it mysteriously. She could not read a word of +it.</p> + +<p>"Read it to me, Mrs. Bell," said she, handing the paper to Mrs. Bell.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Bell read as follows:</p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">"I bequeath all my property to my wife, Mary Erskine.</span> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Albert Forester. Witness, Mary Bell."</span> +</p> + +<p>"I am sure that is all right," said Mary Erskine. "It is very plain, +and one witness is enough. Besides, Albert would know how it ought to +be done."</p> + +<p>"But then," she continued after a moment's pause, "he was very sick +and feeble. Perhaps he did not think. I am sure I shall be very sorry +if it is not a good will, for if I do not have the farm and the stock, +I don't know what I shall do with my poor children."</p> + +<p>Mary Erskine had a vague idea that if the will should prove invalid, +she and her children would lose the property, in some way or other, +entirely,—though she did not know precisely how. After musing upon +this melancholy prospect a moment she asked,</p> + +<p>"Should not I have <i>any</i> of the property, if the will proves not +to be good?"</p> + +<p>"Oh yes," said Mrs. Bell, "you will have a considerable part of it, at +any rate."</p> + +<p>"How much?" asked Mary Erskine.</p> + +<p>"Why about half, I believe," replied Mrs. Bell.</p> + +<p>"Oh," said Mary Erskine, apparently very much relieved. "That will +do very well. Half will be enough. There is a great deal of property. +Albert told me that the farm and the new house are worth five hundred +dollars, and the stock is worth full three hundred more. And Albert +does not owe any thing at all."</p> + +<p>"Well," said Mrs. Bell. "You will have half. Either half or a third, I +forget exactly which."</p> + +<p>"And what becomes of the rest?" asked Mary Erskine.</p> + +<p>"Why the rest goes to the children," said Mrs. Bell.</p> + +<p>"To the children!" repeated Mary Erskine.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said she, "you will have to be appointed guardian, and take +care of it for them, and carry in your account, now and then, to the +Judge of Probate."</p> + +<p>"Oh," said Mary Erskine, her countenance brightening up with an +expression of great relief and satisfaction. "That is just the same +thing. If it is to go to the children, and I am to take care of it for +them, it is just the same thing. I don't care any thing about the will +at all."</p> + +<p>So saying, she threw the paper down upon the table, as if it was of no +value whatever.</p> + +<p>"But there's one thing," she said again, after pausing a few minutes. +"I can't keep any accounts. I can not even write my name."</p> + +<p>"That is no matter," said Mrs. Bell. "There will be but little to +do about the accounts, and it is easy to get somebody to do that for +you."</p> + +<p>"I wish I had learned to write," said Mary Erskine.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Bell said nothing, but in her heart she wished so too.</p> + +<p>"Do you think that I could possibly learn now?" asked Mary Erskine.</p> + +<p>"Why,—I don't know,—perhaps, if you had any one to teach you."</p> + +<p>"Thomas might teach me, perhaps," said Mary Erskine, doubtfully. Then, +in a moment she added again, in a desponding tone,—"but I don't know +how long he will stay here."</p> + +<p>"Then you don't know at all yet," said Mrs. Bell, after a short pause, +"what you shall conclude to do."</p> + +<p>"No," replied Mary Erskine, "not at all. I am going on, just as I am +now, for some days, without perplexing myself at all about it. And I +am not going to mourn and make myself miserable. I am going to make +myself as contented and happy as I can, with my work and my children."</p> + +<p>Here Mary Erskine suddenly laid her head down upon her arms again, on +the little work-table before her, and burst into tears. After sobbing +convulsively a few minutes she rose, hastily brushed the tears away +with her handkerchief, and went toward the door. She then took the +water pail, which stood upon a bench near the door, and said that +she was going to get some water, at the spring, for tea, and that she +would be back in a moment. She returned very soon, with a countenance +entirely serene.</p> + +<p>"I have been trying all day," said Mrs. Bell, "to think of something +that I could do for you, to help you or to relieve you in some way or +other; but I can not think of any thing at all that I can do."</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Mary Erskine, "there is one thing that you could do +for me, that would be a very great kindness, a very great kindness +indeed."</p> + +<p>"What is it?" asked Mrs. Bell.</p> + +<p>"I am afraid that you will think it is too much for me to ask."</p> + +<p>"No," said Mrs. Bell, "what is it?"</p> + +<p>Mary Erskine hesitated a moment, and then said,</p> + +<p>"To let Mary Bell come and stay here with me, a few days."</p> + +<p>"Do you mean all night, too?" asked Mrs. Bell.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Mary Erskine, "all the time."</p> + +<p>"Why, you have got two children to take care of now," replied Mrs. +Bell, "and nobody to help you. I should have thought that you would +have sooner asked me to take Bella home with me."</p> + +<p>"No," said Mary Erskine. "I should like to have Mary Bell here, very +much, for a few days."</p> + +<p>"Well," said Mrs. Bell, "she shall certainly come. I will send her, +to-morrow morning."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3><a name="CHAPTER_VI" id="CHAPTER_VI" />CHAPTER VI.<br /><br />MARY BELL IN THE WOODS.</h3> + + +<p>Mary Erskine had a bible in her house, although she could not read +it. When Albert was alive he was accustomed to read a chapter every +evening, just before bed-time, and then he and Mary Erskine would +kneel down together, by the settle which stood in the corner, while he +repeated his evening prayer. This short season of devotion was always +a great source of enjoyment to Mary Erskine. If she was tired and +troubled, it soothed and quieted her mind. If she was sorrowful, it +comforted her. If she was happy, it seemed to make her happiness more +deep and unalloyed.</p> + +<p>Mary Erskine could not read the bible, but she could repeat a +considerable number of texts and verses from it, and she knew, too, +the prayer, which Albert had been accustomed to offer, almost by +heart. So after Mrs. Bell had gone home, as described in the last +chapter, and after she herself had undressed the children and put them +to bed, and had finished all the other labors and duties of the day, +she took the bible down from its shelf, and seating herself upon the +settle, so as to see by the light of the fire, as Albert had been +accustomed to do, she opened the book, and then began to repeat such +verses as she could remember. At length she closed the book, and +laying it down upon the seat of the settle, in imitation of Albert's +custom, she kneeled down before it, and repeated the prayer. The use +of the bible itself, in this service, was of course a mere form:—but +there is sometimes a great deal of spiritual good to be derived from +a form, when the heart is in it, to give it meaning and life. Mary +Erskine went to bed comforted and happy; and she slept peacefully +through each one of the three periods of repose, into which the care +of an infant by a mother usually divides the night.</p> + +<p>In the morning, the first thought which came into her mind was, that +Mary Bell was coming to see her. She anticipated the visit from her +former charge with great pleasure. She had had Mary Bell under her +charge from early infancy, and she loved her, accordingly, almost as +much as if she were her own child. Besides, as Mary Bell had grown up +she had become a very attractive and beautiful child, so kind to all, +so considerate, so gentle, so active and intelligent, and at the +same time so docile, and so quiet, that she was a universal favorite +wherever she went. Mary Erskine was full of joy at the idea of having +her come and spend several days and nights too, at her house, and she +was impatient for the time to arrive when she might begin to expect +her. At eight o'clock, she began to go often to the door to look down +the road. At nine, she began to feel uneasy. At ten, she put on +her hood and went down the road, almost to the corner, to meet +her—looking forward intensely all the way, hoping at every turn to +see her expected visitor advancing along the path. She went on thus +until she came in sight of the corner, without seeing or hearing any +thing of Mary Bell; and then she was compelled to return home alone, +disappointed and sad. She waited dinner from twelve until one, but +no Mary Bell appeared. Mary Erskine then concluded that something had +happened to detain her expected visitor at home, and that she might +be disappointed of the visit altogether. Still she could not but hope +that Mary would come in the course of the afternoon. The hours of +the afternoon, however, passed tediously away, and the sun began to +decline toward the west; still there was no Mary Bell. The cause of +her detention will now be explained.</p> + +<p>When Mary Bell came down to breakfast, on the morning after her +mother's visit to Mary Erskine, her mother told her, as she came +into the room, that she had an invitation for her to go out to Mary +Erskine's that day.</p> + +<p>"And may I go?" asked Mary Bell.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said her mother, "I think I shall let you go."</p> + +<p>"I am <i>so</i> glad!" said Mary Bell, clapping her hands.</p> + +<p>"Mary Erskine wishes to have you stay there several days," continued +her mother.</p> + +<p>Mary Bell began to look a little sober again. She was not quite sure +that she should be willing to be absent from her mother, for so many +days.</p> + +<p>"Could not I come home every night?" said she.</p> + +<p>"Why, she wishes," answered Mrs. Bell, "to have you stay there all the +time, day and night, for several days. It is an opportunity for you +to do some good. You could not do Mary Erskine any good by giving her +your money, for she has got plenty of money; nor by carrying her any +thing good to eat, for her house is full of abundance, and she knows +as well how to make good things as any body in town. But you can do +her a great deal of good by going and staying with her, and keeping +her company. Perhaps you can help her a little, in taking care of the +children."</p> + +<p>"Well," said Mary Bell, "I should like to go."</p> + +<p>So Mrs. Bell dressed Mary neatly, for the walk, gave her a very small +tin pail, with two oranges in it for Mary Erskine's children, and then +sent out word to the hired man, whose name was Joseph, to harness the +horse into the wagon. When the wagon was ready, she directed Joseph to +carry Mary to the corner, and see that she set out upon the right road +there, toward Mary Erskine's house. It was only about half a mile +from the corner to the house, and the road, though crooked, stony, and +rough, was very plain, and Mary Bell had often walked over it alone.</p> + +<p>There was, in fact, only one place where there could be any danger +of Mary Bell's losing her way, and that was at a point about midway +between the corner and Mary Erskine's house, where a road branched off +to the right, and led into the woods. There was a large pine-tree at +this point, which Mary Bell remembered well; and she knew that she +must take the left-hand road when she reached this tree. There were +various little paths, at other places, but none that could mislead +her.</p> + +<p>When Joseph, at length, set Mary Bell down in the path at the corner, +she stood still, upon a flat rock by the side of the road, to see him +turn the wagon and set out upon his return.</p> + +<p>"Good-bye, Joseph," said she. "I am going to be gone several days."</p> + +<p>"Good-bye," said Joseph, turning to look round at Mary Bell, as the +wagon slowly moved away.</p> + +<p>"Bid mother good-bye," said Mary Bell,—"and Joseph, don't you forget +to water my geranium."</p> + +<p>"No," said Joseph, "and don't you forget to take the left-hand road."</p> + +<p>"No," said Mary Bell.</p> + +<p>She felt a slight sensation of lonesomeness, to be left there in +solitude at the entrance of a dark and somber wood, especially when +she reflected that it was to be several days before she should see her +mother again. But then, calling up to her mind a vivid picture of Mary +Erskine's house, and of the pleasure that she should enjoy there, in +playing with Bella and the baby, she turned toward the pathway into +the woods, and walked resolutely forward, swinging her pail in her +hand and singing a song.</p> + +<p>There were a great many birds in the woods; some were hopping about +upon the rocks and bushes by the road-side. Others were singing in +solitary places, upon the tops of tall trees in the depths of the +forest, their notes being heard at intervals, in various directions, +as if one was answering another, to beguile the solemn loneliness of +the woods. The trees were very tall, and Mary Bell, as she looked up +from her deep and narrow pathway, and saw the lofty tops rocking to +and fro with a very slow and gentle motion, as they were waved by the +wind, it seemed to her that they actually touched the sky.</p> + +<p>At one time she heard the leaves rustling, by the side of the road, +and looking in under the trees, she saw a gray squirrel, just in the +act of leaping up from the leaves upon the ground to the end of a log. +As soon as he had gained this footing, he stopped and looked round at +Mary Bell. Mary Bell stopped too; each looked at the other for several +seconds, in silence,—the child with an expression of curiosity and +pleasure upon her countenance, and the squirrel with one of wonder and +fear upon his. Mary Bell made a sudden motion toward him with her hand +to frighten him a little. It did frighten him. He turned off and ran +along the log as fast as he could go, until he reached the end of it, +and disappeared.</p> + +<p>"Poor Bobbin," said Mary Bell, "I am sorry that I frightened you +away."</p> + +<p>A few steps farther on in her walk, Mary Bell came to a place where +a great number of yellow butterflies had settled down together in the +path. Most of them were still, but a few were fluttering about, to +find good places.</p> + +<p>"Oh, what pretty butterflies!" said Mary Bell. "They have been flying +about, I suppose, till they have got tired, and have stopped to rest. +But if I were a butterfly, I would rest upon flowers, and not upon the +ground."</p> + +<p>Mary Bell paused and looked upon the butterflies a moment, and then +said,</p> + +<p>"And now how shall I get by? I am sure I don't want to tread upon +those butterflies. I will sit down here, myself, on a stone, and wait +till they get rested and fly away. Besides, I am tired myself, and +<i>I</i> shall get rested too."</p> + +<p>Just as she took her seat she saw that there was a little path, which +diverged here from the main road, and turned into the woods a little +way, seeming to come back again after a short distance. There were +many such little paths, here and there, running parallel to the main +road. They were made by the cows, in the spring of the year when the +roads were wet, to avoid the swampy places. These places were now all +dry, and the bye-paths were consequently of no use, though traces of +them remained.</p> + +<p>"No," said Mary Bell. "I will not stop to rest; I am not very tired; +so I will go around by this little path. It will come into the road +again very soon."</p> + +<p>Mary Bell's opinion would have been just, in respect to any other path +but this one; but it so happened, very unfortunately for her, that +now, although not aware of it, she was in fact very near the great +pine-tree, where the road into the woods branched off, and the path +which she was determining to take, though it commenced in the main +road leading to Mary Erskine's, did not return to it again, but after +passing, by a circuitous and devious course, through the bushes a +little way, ended in the branch road which led into the woods, at a +short distance beyond the pine-tree.</p> + +<p>Mary Bell was not aware of this state of things, but supposed, without +doubt, that the path would come out again into the same road that +it left, and that, she could pass round through it, and so avoid +disturbing the butterflies. She thought, indeed, it might possibly be +that the path would not come back at all, but would lose itself in +the woods; and to guard against this danger, she determined that after +going on for a very short distance, if she found that it did not come +out into the road again, she would come directly back. The idea of +its coming out into a wrong road did not occur to her mind as a +possibility.</p> + +<p>She accordingly entered the path, and after proceeding in it a little +way she was quite pleased to see it coming out again into what she +supposed was the main road. Dismissing, now, all care and concern, she +walked forward in a very light-hearted and happy manner. The road +was very similar in its character to the one which she ought to have +taken, so that there was nothing in the appearances around her to lead +her to suppose that she was wrong. She had, moreover, very little idea +of measures of time, and still less of distance, and thus she went on +for more than an hour before she began to wonder why she did not get +to Mary Erskine's.</p> + +<p>She began to suspect, then, that she had in some way or other lost +the right road. She, however, went on, looking anxiously about for +indications of an approach to the farm, until at length she saw signs +of an opening in the woods, at some distance before her. She concluded +to go on until she came to this opening, and if she could not tell +where she was by the appearance of the country there, she would go +back again by the road she came.</p> + +<p>The opening, when she reached it, appeared to consist of a sort of +pasture land, undulating in its surface, and having thickets of +trees and bushes scattered over it, here and there. There was a small +elevation in the land, at a little distance from the place where Mary +Bell came out, and she thought that she would go to the top of +this elevation, and look for Mary Erskine's house, all around. She +accordingly did so, but neither Mary Erskine's house nor any other +human habitation was anywhere to be seen.</p> + +<p>She sat down upon a smooth stone, which was near her, feeling tired +and thirsty, and beginning to be somewhat anxious in respect to her +situation. She thought, however, that there was no great danger, for +her mother would certainly send Joseph out into the woods to find her, +as soon as she heard that she was lost. She concluded, at first, to +wait where she was until Joseph should come, but on second thoughts, +she concluded to go back by the road which had led her to the opening, +and so, perhaps meet him on the way. She was very thirsty, and wished +very much that one of the oranges in the pail belonged to her, for she +would have liked to eat one very much indeed. But they were not either +of them hers. One belonged to Bella, and the other to the baby.</p> + +<p>She walked back again to the woods, intending to return toward the +corner, by the road in which she came, but now she could not find the +entrance to it. She wandered for some time, this way and that, along +the margin of the wood, but could find no road. She, however, at +length found something which she liked better. It was a beautiful +spring of cool water, bubbling up from between the rocks on the side +of a little hill. She sat down by the side of this spring, took off +the cover from her little pail, took out the oranges and laid them +down carefully in a little nook where they would not roll away, and +then using the pail for a dipper, she dipped up some water, and had an +excellent drink.</p> + +<p>"What a good spring this is!" said she to herself. "It is as good as +Mary Erskine's."</p> + +<p>It was the time of the year in which raspberries were ripe, and Mary +Bell, in looking around her from her seat near the spring, saw at +a distance a place which appeared as if there were raspberry bushes +growing there.</p> + +<p>"I verily believe that there are some raspberries," said she. "I will +go and see; if I could only find plenty of raspberries, it would be +all that I should want."</p> + +<p>The bushes proved to be raspberry bushes, as Mary had supposed, and +she found them loaded with fruit. She ate of them abundantly, and was +very much refreshed. She would have filled her pail besides, so as +to have some to take along with her, but she had no place to put the +oranges, except within the pail.</p> + +<p>It was now about noon; the sun was hot, and Mary Bell began to be +pretty tired. She wished that they would come for her. She climbed up +upon a large log which lay among the bushes, and called as loud as she +could,</p> + +<p>"<i>Mary Erskine! Mary Erskine!</i>"</p> + +<p>Then after pausing a moment, and listening in vain for an answer, she +renewed her call,</p> + + +<p>"<i>Thom—as! Thom—as!</i>"</p> + +<p>Then again, after another pause,</p> + +<p>"<i>Jo—seph! Jo—seph!</i>"</p> + + +<p>She listened a long time, but heard nothing except the singing of the +birds, and the sighing of the wind upon the tops of the trees in the +neighboring forests.</p> + +<p>She began to feel very anxious and very lonely. She descended from the +log, and walked along till she got out of the bushes. She came to a +place where there were rocks, with smooth surfaces of moss and grass +among them. She found a shady place among these rocks, and sat down +upon the moss. She laid her head down upon her arm and began to weep +bitterly.</p> + +<p>Presently she raised her head again, and endeavored to compose +herself, saying,</p> + +<p>"But I must not cry. I must be patient, and wait till they come. I am +very tired, but I must not go to sleep, for then I shall not hear +them when they come. I will lay my head down, but I will keep my eyes +open."</p> + +<p>She laid her head down accordingly upon a mossy mound, and +notwithstanding her resolution to keep her eyes open, in ten minutes +she was fast asleep.</p> + +<p>She slept very soundly for more than two hours. She was a little +frightened when she awoke, to find that she had been sleeping, and she +started up and climbed along upon a rock which was near by, until she +gained a projecting elevation, and here she began to listen again.</p> + +<p>She heard the distant tinkling of a bell.</p> + +<p>"Hark," said she. "I hear a bell. It is out <i>that</i> way. I wonder +what it is. I will go there and see."</p> + +<p>So taking up her pail very carefully, she walked along in the +direction where she had heard the bell. She stopped frequently to +listen. Sometimes she could hear it, and sometimes she could not. +She, however, steadily persevered, though she encountered a great many +obstacles on the way. Sometimes there were wet places, which it was +very hard to get round. At other times, there were dense thickets, +which she had to scramble through, or rocks over which she had to +climb, either up or down. The sound, however, of the bell, came nearer +and nearer.</p> + +<p>"I verily believe," said she at length, "that it is Queen Bess."</p> + +<p>Queen Bess was one of Mary Erskine's cows.</p> + +<p>The idea that the sound which she was following might possibly be +Queen Bess's bell, gave her great courage. She was well acquainted +with Queen Bess, having often gone out to see Mary Erskine milk +her, with the other cows. She had even tried many times to milk her +herself, Mary Erskine having frequently allowed her to milk enough, in +a mug, to provide herself with a drink.</p> + +<p>"I hope it is Queen Bess," said Mary Bell. "She knows me, and she will +give me a drink of her milk, I am sure."</p> + +<p>Mary Bell proved to be right in her conjecture. It was Queen Bess. She +was feeding very quietly, Mary Erskine's other cows being near, some +cropping the grass and some browsing upon the bushes. Queen Bess +raised her head and looked at Mary Bell with a momentary feeling of +astonishment, wondering how she came there, and then put down her head +again and resumed her feeding.</p> + +<p>"Now," said Mary Bell, "I shall certainly get home again, for I shall +stay with you until Thomas comes up after the cows. He will find you +by your bell. And now I am going to put these oranges down upon the +grass, and milk some milk into this pail."</p> + +<p>So Mary Bell put the oranges in a safe place upon the grass, and then +went cautiously up to the side of the cow, and attempted to milk +her. But it is very difficult to milk a cow while she is grazing in +a pasture. She is not inclined to stand still, but advances all the +time, slowly, step by step, making it very difficult to do any thing +at milking. Mary Bell, however, succeeded very well. She was so +thirsty that she did not wait to get a great deal at a time, but as +soon as she had two or three spoonfuls in the pail, she stopped to +drink it. In this manner, by dint of a great deal of labor and pains, +she succeeded, in about a quarter of an hour, in getting as much as +she wanted.</p> + +<p class="pic-centre"> +<a name="pic07" id="pic07" /> +<img src="images/pic0007.jpg" width="500" height="457" alt="An engraving of Mary Bell and Queen Bess." title="Mary Bell and Queen Bess." /> +</p> + +<p>She remained in company with the cows all the afternoon. Sometimes she +would wander from them a little way to gather raspberries, and then +she would creep up cautiously to Queen Bess, and get another drink of +milk. When she had thus had as many raspberries, and as much milk, as +she wished, she amused herself for some time in gathering a bouquet +of wild flowers to give to Mary Erskine on her return. The time, being +thus filled up with useful occupation, passed pleasantly and rapidly +along, and at length, when the sun was nearly ready to go down, she +heard a distant voice shouting to the cows. It was Thomas, coming to +drive them home.</p> + +<p>Thomas was of course greatly astonished to find Mary Bell in the +woods, and his astonishment was not at all diminished at hearing her +story. He offered to carry her, in going home,—but she said that +she was not tired, and could walk as well as not. So they went down +together, the cows running along before them in the paths. When they +reached the house, Thomas went to turn the cows into the yard, while +Mary Bell went into the house to Mary Erskine, with her little pail in +one hand, and her bouquet of flowers in the other.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3><a name="CHAPTER_VII" id="CHAPTER_VII" />CHAPTER VII.<br /><br />HOUSE-KEEPING.</h3> + + +<p>One of the greatest pleasures which Mary Bell enjoyed, in her visits +at Mary Erskine's at this period, was to assist in the house-keeping. +She was particularly pleased with being allowed to help in getting +breakfast or tea, and in setting the table.</p> + +<p>She rose accordingly very early on the morning after her arrival +there from the woods, as described in the last chapter, and put on +the working-dress which Mary Erskine had made for her, and which was +always kept at the farm. This was not the working-dress which was +described in a preceding chapter as the one which Mary Bell used to +play in, when out among the stumps. Her playing among the stumps was +two or three years before the period which we are now describing. +During those two or three years, Mary Bell had wholly outgrown her +first working-dress, and her mind had become improved and enlarged, +and her tastes matured more rapidly even than her body had grown.</p> + +<p>She now no longer took any pleasure in dabbling in the brook, or +planting potatoes in the sand,—or in heating sham ovens in stumps and +hollow trees. She had begun to like realities. To bake a real cake for +breakfast or tea, to set a real table with real cups and saucers, for +a real and useful purpose, or to assist Mary Erskine in the care of +the children, or in making the morning arrangements in the room, gave +her more pleasure than any species of child's play could possibly +do. When she went out now, she liked to be dressed neatly, and take +pleasant walks, to see the views or to gather flowers. In a word, +though she was still in fact a child, she began to have in some degree +the tastes and feelings of a woman.</p> + +<p>"What are you going to have for breakfast?" said Mary Bell to Mary +Erskine, while they were getting up.</p> + +<p>"What should you like?" asked Mary Erskine in reply.</p> + +<p>"Why I should like some roast potatoes, and a spider cake," said Mary +Bell.</p> + +<p>The spider cake received its name from being baked before the fire +in a flat, iron vessel, called a spider. The spider was so called +probably, because, like the animal of that name, it had several legs +and a great round body. The iron spider, however, unlike its living +namesake, had a long straight tail, which, extending out behind, +served for a handle.</p> + +<p>The spider cake being very tender and nice, and coming as it usually +did, hot upon the table, made a most excellent breakfast,—though this +was not the principal reason which led Mary Bell to ask for it. She +liked to <i>make</i> the spider cake; for Mary Erskine, after mixing +and preparing the material, used to allow Mary Bell to roll it out to +its proper form, and put it into the spider. Then more than all the +rest, Mary Bell liked to <i>bake</i> a spider cake. She used to +take great pleasure in carrying the cake in her two hands to the +fire-place, and laying it carefully in its place in the spider, and +then setting it up before the fire to bake, lifting the spider by +the end of the tail. She also took great satisfaction afterward in +watching it, as the surface which was presented toward the fire became +browned by the heat. When it was sufficiently baked upon one side it +had to be turned, and then set up before the fire again, to be baked +on the other side; and every part of the long operation was always +watched by Mary Bell with great interest and pleasure.</p> + +<p>Mary Erskine consented to Mary Bell's proposal in respect to +breakfast, and for an hour Mary Bell was diligently employed in making +the preparations.</p> + +<p class="pic-centre"> +<a name="pic08" id="pic08" /> +<img src="images/pic0008.jpg" width="500" height="484" alt="An engraving of Mary Bell making breakfast." title="Mary Bell getting breakfast." /> +</p> + +<p>She put the potatoes in the bed which Mary Erskine opened for them in +the ashes. She rolled out the spider cake, and put it into the spider; +she spread the cloth upon the table, and took down the plates, and +the cups and saucers from the cupboard, and set them in order on the +table. She went down into the little cellar to bring up the butter. +She skimmed a pan of milk to get the cream, she measured out the tea; +and at last, when all else was ready, she took a pitcher and went +down to the spring to bring up a pitcher of cool water. In all these +operations Bella accompanied her, always eager to help, and Mary Bell, +knowing that it gave Bella great pleasure to have something to do, +called upon her, continually, for her aid, and allowed her to do +every thing that it was safe to entrust to her. Thus they went on very +happily together.</p> + +<p>At length, when the breakfast was ready they all sat down around the +table to eat it, except the baby. He remained in the trundle-bed, +playing with his play-things. His play-things consisted of three or +four smooth pebble stones of different colors, each being of about the +size of an egg, which his mother had chosen for him out of the +brook, and also of a short piece of bright iron chain. The chain was +originally a part of a harness, but the harness had become worn out, +and Albert had brought in the chain and given it to the baby. The baby +liked these play-things very much indeed,—both the pebbles and the +chain. When he was well, and neither hungry nor sleepy, he was never +tired of playing with them,—trying to bite them, and jingling them +together.</p> + +<p>"Now," said Mary Erskine to the children, as they were sitting at the +table, at the close of the breakfast, and after Thomas had gone away, +"you may go out and play for an hour while I finish my morning work, +and put the baby to sleep, and then I want you to come in and have a +school."</p> + +<p>"Who shall be the teacher?" said Mary Bell.</p> + +<p>"You shall be <i>one</i>," said Mary Erskine.</p> + +<p>"Are you going to have two teachers?" asked Mary Bell. "If you do, +then we can't have any scholars;—for the baby is not old enough to go +to school."</p> + +<p>"I know it," said Mary Erskine, "but we can have three scholars +without him."</p> + +<p>"Who shall they be?" asked Mary Bell.</p> + +<p>"You and I, and Bella," answered Mary Erskine. "I will tell you what +my plan is. I expect that I shall conclude to stay here, and live in +this house alone for some years to come, and the children can not go +to school, for there is now nobody to take them, and it is too far for +them to go alone. I must teach them myself at home, or else they can +not learn. I am very sorry indeed now that I did not learn to read and +write when I was a child: for that would have saved me the time and +trouble of learning now. But I think I <i>can</i> learn now. Don't you +think I can, Mary?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, indeed," said Mary Bell, "I am sure you can. It is very easy +to read."</p> + +<p>"I am going to try," continued Mary Erskine, "and so I want you to +teach me. And while you are teaching me, Bella may as well begin at +the same time. So that you will have two scholars."</p> + +<p>"Three—you said three scholars," rejoined Mary Bell.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Mary Erskine. "You shall be the third scholar. I am going +to teach you to draw."</p> + +<p>"Do you know how to draw?" asked Mary Bell, surprised.</p> + +<p>"No," said Mary Erskine, "but I can show <i>you</i> how to learn."</p> + +<p>"Well," said Mary Bell, "I should like to learn to draw very much +indeed. Though I don't see how any body can teach a thing unless they +can do it themselves."</p> + +<p>"Sometimes they can," said Mary Erskine. "A man may teach a horse to +canter, without being able to canter himself."</p> + +<p>Mary Bell laughed at the idea of a man attempting to canter, and said +that she should be very glad to try to learn to draw. Mary Erskine +then said that after they had finished their breakfast the children +might go out an hour to walk and play, and that then when they should +come in, they would find every thing ready for the school.</p> + +<p>Mary Bell concluded to take a walk about the farm during the time +which they were allowed to spend in play, before the school was to +begin. So she and Bella put on their bonnets, and bidding Mary Erskine +good morning, they sallied forth. As they came out at the great stoop +door their attention was arrested by the sound of a cow-bell. The +sound seemed to come from the barn-yard.</p> + +<p>"Ah," said Mary Bell, "there is Queen Bess going to pasture this +morning. How glad I was to see her yesterday in the woods! Let us go +and see her now."</p> + +<p>So saying she led the way around the corner of the house, by a +pleasant path through the high grass that was growing in the yard, +toward the barns. Bella followed her. They passed through a gate, then +across a little lane, then through a gate on the other side of the +lane, which led into the barn-yards. The barns, like the house, were +built of logs, but they were very neatly made, and the yards around +them were at this season of the year dry and green.</p> + +<p>Mary and Bella walked on across the barn-yard until they got to the +back side of the barn, when they found Thomas turning the cows into a +little green lane which led to the pasture. It was not very far to the +pasture bars, and so Mary Bell proposed that they should go and help +Thomas drive the cows. They accordingly went on, but they had not gone +far before they came to a brook, which here flowed across the lane. +The cows walked directly through the brook, while Thomas got across it +by stepping over some stones at one side. Mary Bell thought that the +spaces were a little too wide for Bella to jump over, so she concluded +not to go any farther in that direction.</p> + +<p>Bella then proposed that they should go and see the new house. This +Mary Bell thought would be an excellent plan if Bella's mother would +give them leave. They accordingly went in to ask her. They found her +in the back stoop, employed in straining the milk which Thomas had +brought in. She was straining it into great pans. She said that she +should like to have the children go and see the new house very much +indeed, and she gave them the key, so that they might go into it. The +children took the key and went across the fields by a winding path +until they came out into the main road again, near the new house. The +house was in a very pleasant place indeed. There was a green yard in +front of it, and a place for a garden at one side. At the other side +was a wide yard open to the road, so that persons could ride up to the +door without the trouble of opening any gate. The children walked up +this open yard.</p> + +<p>They went to the door, intending to unlock it with their key, but they +were surprised to find that there was not any key hole. Mary Bell said +that she supposed the key hole was not made yet. They tried to open +the door, but they could not succeed. It was obviously fastened on the +inside.</p> + +<p>"Now how can we get in?" said Bella.</p> + +<p>"I don't see," replied Mary Bell, "and I can't think how they locked +the door without any key-hole."</p> + +<p>"Could not we climb in at one of the windows?" said Mary Bell,—"only +they are so high up!"</p> + +<p>The children looked around at the windows. They were all too high +from the ground for them to reach. There was, however, a heap of short +blocks and boards which the carpenters had left in the yard near the +house, and Mary Bell said that perhaps they could build up a "climbing +pile" with them, so as to get in at a window. She accordingly went to +this heap, and by means of considerable exertion and toil she rolled +two large blocks—the ends of sticks of timber which the carpenters +had sawed off in framing the house—up under the nearest window. +She placed these blocks, which were about two feet long, at a little +distance apart under the window, with one end of each block against +the house. She then, with Bella's help, got some short boards from +the pile, and placed them across these blocks from one to the other, +making a sort of a flooring.</p> + +<p>"There," said Mary Bell, looking at the work with great satisfaction, +"that is <i>one</i> story."</p> + +<p>Then she brought two more blocks, and laid them upon the flooring over +the first two, placing the second pair of blocks, like the first, at +right angles to the house, and with the ends close against it to +keep them steady. On these blocks she laid a second flooring of short +boards, which made the second story. She then stepped up upon the +staging which she had thus built, to see if it was steady. It was very +steady indeed.</p> + +<p>"Let <i>me</i> get up on it," said Bella.</p> + +<p>Bella accordingly climbed up, and she and Mary Bell danced upon it +together in great glee for some time to show how steady it was.</p> + +<p>Mary Bell then attempted to open the window. She found that she could +open it a little way, but not far enough to get in. So she said that +she must make one more "story." They then both went back to the pile, +and got two more blocks and another board to lay across upon the top +of them for a flooring, and when these were placed, Mary Bell found +that she could raise the window very high. She got a long stick to put +under it to hold it up, and then tried to climb in.</p> + +<p>She found, however, that the window sill over which she was to climb +was still rather too high; but, at length, after various consultations +and experiments, <i>Bella</i> succeeded in getting up by means of the +help which Mary Bell, who was large and strong, gave her, by "boosting +her," as she called it, that is, pushing her up from below while she +climbed by means of her arms clasped over the window sill above. Bella +being thus in the house, took the key, which Mary Bell handed her for +the purpose, and went along to the entry to unlock the door, while +Mary Bell, stepping down from the scaffolding, went to the door on the +outside, ready to enter when it should be opened. The children had no +doubt that there was a key-hole in the lock on the inside, although +there was none made in the door on the outside.</p> + +<p>When, however, Bella reached the door on the inside, she called out +to Mary Bell, through the door, to say that she could not find any +key-hole.</p> + +<p>"It is in the lock," said Mary Bell.</p> + +<p>"But there is not any lock," said Bella.</p> + +<p>"Is not there any thing?" asked Mary Bell.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Bella, "there is a bolt."</p> + +<p>"Oh, very well, then, open the bolt," replied Mary Bell.</p> + +<p>After a great deal of tugging and pushing at the bolt, Bella succeeded +in getting it back, but even then the door would not come open. It +was new, and it fitted very tight. Bella said that Mary Bell must push +from the outside, while she held up the latch. Mary Bell accordingly +pushed with all her force, and at length the door flew open, and to +their great joy they found themselves both fairly admitted to the +house.</p> + +<p>They rambled about for some time, looking at the different rooms, +and at the various conveniences for house-keeping which Albert had +planned, and which were all just ready for use when Albert had died. +There was a sink in the kitchen, with a little spout leading into it, +from which the water was running in a constant stream. It came from +an aqueduct of logs brought under ground. There was a tin dipper there +upon the top of the post which the water-spout came out of, and Mary +Bell and Bella had an excellent drink from it the first thing. The +kitchen floor was covered with shavings, and the children played in +them for some time, until they were tired. Then they went and got +another drink.</p> + +<p>When they at last got tired of the kitchen, they went to a window at +the back side of the sitting-room, which looked out toward the garden, +and commanded also a beautiful prospect beyond. They opened this +window in order to see the garden better. A fresh and delightful +breeze came in immediately, which the children enjoyed very much. +The breeze, however, in drawing through the house, shut all the doors +which the children had left open, with a loud noise, and then having +no longer any egress, it ceased to come in. The air seemed suddenly to +become calm; the children stood for some time at the window, looking +out at the garden, and at the pond, and the mountains beyond.</p> + +<p>At length they shut the window again, and went to the door at which +they had entered, and found it shut fast. They could not open it, +for there was now no one to push upon the outside. Mary Bell laughed. +Bella looked very much frightened.</p> + +<p>"What shall we do?" said she. "We can't get out."</p> + +<p>"Oh, don't be afraid," said Mary Bell, "we will get out some way or +other."</p> + +<p>She then tried again to open the door, exerting all her strength in +pulling upon the latch, but all in vain. They were finally obliged to +give up the attempt as utterly hopeless.</p> + +<p>Mary Bell then led the way to the window where Bella had got in, and +looked out upon the little scaffolding. It looked as if the window was +too high above the scaffolding for them to get down there safely. One +of them might, perhaps, have succeeded in descending, if the other had +been outside to help her down; but as it was, Mary Bell herself did +not dare to make the attempt.</p> + +<p>"I will tell you what we will do," said Mary Bell. "We will go to +another window where there are no blocks below, and throw all the +shavings out from the kitchen. That will make a soft bed for us to +jump upon."</p> + +<p>"Well," said Bella, "let us do that."</p> + +<p>So they went to the kitchen, and opening one of the windows, they +began to gather up the shavings in their arms from off the floor, and +to throw them out. They worked very industriously at this undertaking +for a long time, until the kitchen floor was entirely cleared. They +picked out carefully all the sticks, and blocks, and pieces of board +which were mixed with the shavings, before throwing them out, in order +that there might be nothing hard in the heap which they were to jump +upon. When the work was completed, and all the shavings were out, they +went to the window, and leaning over the sill, they looked down.</p> + +<p>"I wish we had some more shavings," said Mary Bell.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Bella, "that is too far to jump down. We can't get out any +way at all." So saying, she began to cry.</p> + +<p>"Don't cry, Bella," said Mary Bell, in a soothing tone. "It is no +matter if we can't get out, for your mother knows that we came here, +and if we don't come home in an hour, she will come for us and let us +out."</p> + +<p>"But perhaps there is a ladder somewhere," added Mary Bell, after a +short pause. "Perhaps we can find a ladder that the carpenters have +left somewhere about. If there is, we can put it out the window, and +then climb down upon it. Let us go and look."</p> + +<p>"Well," said Bella, "so we will."</p> + +<p>The two children accordingly set off on an exploring tour to find a +ladder. Mary Bell went toward the front part of the house, and Bella +into the back kitchen. They looked not only in the rooms, but also in +the passage-ways and closets, and in every corner where a ladder could +possibly be hid. At length, just as Mary Bell was going up the stairs, +in order to look into the little attic chambers, she heard Bella +calling out from the back part of the house, in a tone of voice +expressive of great exultation and joy.</p> + +<p>"She has found the ladder," said Mary Bell, and leaving the stairs she +went to meet her.</p> + +<p>She found Bella running through the kitchen toward the entry where +Mary Bell was, calling out with great appearance of delight,</p> + +<p>"I've found the key-hole, Mary Bell! I've found the key-hole!"</p> + +<p>This was indeed true. The lock to which the key that Mary Erskine +had given the children belonged, was upon the <i>back</i> door, the +principal door of the house being fastened by a bolt. Mary Bell went +to the back door, and easily opened it by means of the key. Glad to +discover this mode of escape from their thraldom, the children ran +out, and capered about upon the back stoop in great glee. Presently +they went in again and shut all the windows which they had opened, +and then came out, locking the door after them, and set out on their +return home.</p> + +<p>When they arrived, they found that Mary Erskine had got every thing +ready for the school.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3><a name="CHAPTER_VIII" id="CHAPTER_VIII" />CHAPTER VIII.<br /><br />THE SCHOOL.</h3> + + +<p>Good teachers and proper conveniences for study, tend very much, it +is true, to facilitate the progress of pupils in all attempts for +the acquisition of knowledge. But where these advantages cannot be +enjoyed, it is astonishing how far a little ingenuity, and resolution, +and earnestness, on the part of the pupil, will atone for the +deficiency. No child need ever be deterred from undertaking any +study adapted to his years and previous attainments, for want of +the necessary implements or apparatus, or the requisite means of +instruction. The means of supplying the want of these things are +always at the command of those who are intelligent, resolute, and +determined. It is only the irresolute, the incompetent, and the +feeble-minded that are dependent for their progress on having a +teacher to show them and to urge them onward, every step of the way.</p> + +<p>When Mary Bell and Bella returned home they found that Mary Erskine +had made all the preparations necessary for the commencement of the +school. She had made a desk for the two children by means of the +ironing-board, which was a long and wide board, made very smooth on +both sides. This board Mary Erskine placed across two chairs, having +previously laid two blocks of wood upon the chairs in a line with the +back side of the board, in such a manner as to raise that side and +to cause the board to slope forward like a desk. She had placed two +stools in front of this desk for seats.</p> + +<p>Upon this desk, at one end of it, the end, namely, at which Bella was +to sit, Mary Erskine had placed a small thin board which she found in +the shop, and by the side of it a piece of chalk. This small board and +piece of chalk were to be used instead of a slate and pencil.</p> + +<p>At Mary Bell's end of the desk there was a piece of paper and a pen, +which Mary Erskine had taken out of her work-table. By the side of the +paper and pen was Bella's picture-book. This picture-book was a small +but very pretty picture-book, which Mary Bell had given to Bella for a +present on her birth-day, the year before. The picture-book looked, +as it lay upon the desk, as if it were perfectly new. Mary Erskine +had kept it very carefully in her work-table drawer, as it was the +only picture-book that Bella had. She was accustomed to take it out +sometimes in the evening, and show the pictures to Bella, one by one, +explaining them at the same time, so far as she could guess at the +story from the picture itself, for neither she herself, nor Bella, +could understand a word of the reading. On these occasions Mary +Erskine never allowed Bella to touch the book, but always turned over +the leaves herself, and that too in a very careful manner, so as to +preserve it in its original condition, smooth, fresh, and unsullied.</p> + +<p>Mary Bell and Bella looked at the desk which Mary Erskine had prepared +for them, and liked it very much indeed.</p> + +<p>"But where are <i>you</i> going to study?" asked Mary Bell.</p> + +<p>"I shall study at my work-table, but not now. I can't study until the +evening. I have my work to do, all the day, and so I shall not begin +my studies until the evening when you children are all gone to bed. +And besides, there is only one pen."</p> + +<p>"Oh, but you will not want the pen," said Mary Bell. "You are going to +learn to read."</p> + +<p>"No," said Mary Erskine. "I am going to learn to write first."</p> + +<p>"Not <i>first</i>," said Mary Bell. "We always learn to <i>read</i>, +before we learn to write."</p> + +<p>"But I am going to learn to write first," said Mary Erskine. "I have +been thinking about it, and I think that will be best. I have got +the plan all formed. I shall want you to set me a copy, and then this +evening I shall write it."</p> + +<p>"Well," said Mary Bell, "I will. The first copy must be straight +marks."</p> + +<p>"No," said Mary Erskine, "the first thing is to learn to write my +name. I shall never have any occasion to write straight marks, but I +shall want to write my name a great many times."</p> + +<p>"Oh, but you can't <i>begin</i> with writing your name," said Mary +Bell.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Mary Erskine, "I am going to begin with <i>Mary</i>: only +<i>Mary</i>. I want you to write me two copies, one with the letters +all separate, and the other with the letters together.</p> + +<p>"Well," said Mary Bell, "I will." So she sat down to her desk, taking +up her pen, she dipped it into the inkstand. The inkstand had been +placed into the chair which Mary Bell's end of the ironing-board +rested upon. It could not stand safely on the board itself as that was +sloping.</p> + +<p>Mary Bell wrote the letters M—A—R—Y, in a large plain hand upon +the top of the paper, and then in a same line she wrote them again, +joining them together in a word. Mary Erskine stood by while she +wrote, examining very attentively her method of doing the work, and +especially her way of holding the pen. When the copy was finished, +Mary Erskine cut it off from the top of the paper and pinned it up +against the side of the room, where she could look at it and study the +names of the letters in the intervals of her work during the day.</p> + +<p>"There," said she in a tone of satisfaction when this was done. "I +have got my work before me. The next thing is to give Bella hers."</p> + +<p>It was decided that Bella should pursue a different method from her +mother. She was to learn the letters of the alphabet in regular order, +taking the first two, <i>a</i> and <i>b</i>, for her first lesson. +Mary Bell made copies of those two letters for her, with the chalk, +upon the top of the board. She made these letters in the form of +printed and not written characters, because the object was to teach +Bella to read printed books.</p> + +<p>"Now," said Mary Erskine to Bella, "you must study <i>a</i> and +<i>b</i> for half an hour. I shall tell you when I think the half hour +is out. If you get tired of sitting at your desk, you may take your +board and your chalk out to the door and sit upon the step. You must +spend all the time in making the letters on the board, and you may say +<i>a</i> and <i>b</i> while you are making the letters, but besides +that you must not speak a word. For every time that you speak, except +to say <i>a</i> and <i>b</i>, after I tell you to begin, you will have +to pick up a basket of chips."</p> + +<p>Picking up baskets of chips was the common punishment that Bella was +subjected to for her childish misdemeanors. There was a bin in the +stoop, where she used to put them, and a small basket hanging up by +the side of it. The chip-yard was behind the house, and there was +always an abundant supply of chips in it, from Albert's cutting. The +basket, it is true, was quite small, and to fill it once with chips, +was but a slight punishment; but slight punishments are always +sufficient for sustaining any just and equitable government, provided +they are certain to follow transgression, and are strictly and +faithfully enforced. Bella was a very obedient and submissive child, +though she had scarcely ever been subjected to any heavier punishment +than picking up chips.</p> + +<p>"Shall I begin now?" said Bella.</p> + +<p>"No," replied her mother, "wait, if you like, till Mary Bell has taken +her lesson."</p> + +<p>"I don't see how I am going to draw," said Mary Bell, "without any +pencil."</p> + +<p>"You will have to draw with the pen," said Mary Erskine. "I am very +sorry that I have not got any pencil for you."</p> + +<p>So saying, Mary Erskine took up the picture-book, and began turning +over the leaves, to find, as she said, the picture of a house. She +should think, she said, that the picture of a house would be a good +thing to begin with.</p> + +<p>She found a view of a house in the third picture in the book. There +was a great deal in the picture besides the house, but Mary Erskine +said that the house alone should be the lesson. There was a pond near +it, with a shore, and ducks and geese swimming in the water. Then +there was a fence and a gate, and a boy coming through the gate, and +some trees. There was one large tree with a swing hanging from one of +the branches.</p> + +<p>"Now, Mary," said Mary Erskine, speaking to Mary Bell, "you may take +the house alone. First you must look at it carefully, and examine all +the little lines and marks, and see exactly how they are made. There +is the chimney, for example. See first what the shape of the outline +of it is, and look at all <i>those</i> little lines, and <i>those</i>, +and <i>those</i>," continued Mary Erskine, pointing to the different +parts of the chimney. "You must examine in the same way all the other +lines, in all the other parts of the picture, and see exactly how fine +they are, and how near together they are, so that you can imitate them +exactly. Then you must make some little dots upon your paper to mark +the length and breadth of the house, so as to get it of the right +shape; and then draw the lines and finish it all exactly as it is in +the book."</p> + +<p>Bella looked over very attentively, while her mother was explaining +these things to Mary Bell, and then said that <i>she</i> would rather +draw a house than make letters.</p> + +<p>"No," said her mother, "you must make letters."</p> + +<p>"But it is harder to make letters than it is to make a house," said +Bella.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said her mother, "I think it is."</p> + +<p>"And I think," said Bella, "that the littlest scholar ought to have +the easiest things to do."</p> + +<p>Mary Erskine laughed, and said that in schools, those things were not +done that seemed best to the scholars, but those that seemed best to +the teachers.</p> + +<p>"Then," said Mary Bell, "why must not you write marks."</p> + +<p>Mary Erskine laughed still more at this, and said she acknowledged +that the children had got her penned up in a corner.</p> + +<p>"Now," said Mary Erskine, "are you ready to begin; because when you +once begin, you must not speak a word till the half hour is out."</p> + +<p>"Yes," said the children, "we are ready."</p> + +<p>"Then <i>begin</i>," said Mary Erskine.</p> + +<p>The children began with great gravity and silence, each at her +separate task, while Mary Erskine went on with her own regular +employment. The silence continued unbroken for about five minutes, +when Bella laid down her chalk in a despairing manner, saying,</p> + +<p>"O dear me! I can't make a <i>a</i>."</p> + +<p>"There's one basket of chips," said Mary Erskine.</p> + +<p>"Why I really can't," said Bella, "I have tried three times."</p> + +<p>"Two baskets of chips," said her mother. "Make two marks on the corner +of your board," she continued, "and every time you speak put down +another, so that we can remember how many baskets of chips you have to +pick up."</p> + +<p>Bella looked rather disconsolate at receiving this direction. She +knew, however, that she must obey. She was also well aware that she +would certainly have to pick up as many baskets of chips as should +be indicated by the line of chalk marks. She, therefore, resumed her +work, inwardly resolving that she would not speak another word. All +this time, Mary Bell went on with her drawing, without apparently +paying any attention to the conversation between Bella and her mother.</p> + +<p class="pic-centre"> +<a name="pic09" id="pic09" /> +<img src="images/pic0009.jpg" width="500" height="470" alt="An engraving of the school." title="The School." /> +</p> + +<p>Bella went on, too, herself after this, very attentively, making the +letters which had been assigned her for her lesson, and calling the +names of them as she made them, but not speaking any words.</p> + +<p>At length Mary Erskine told the children that the half hour had +expired, and that they were at liberty. Bella jumped up and ran away +to play. Mary Bell wished to remain and finish her house. Mary Erskine +went to look at it. She compared it very attentively with the original +in the picture-book, and observed several places in which Mary Bell +had deviated from her pattern. She did not, however, point out any of +these faults to Mary Bell, but simply said that she had done her work +very well indeed. She had made a very pretty house. Mary Bell said +that it was not quite finished, and she wished to remain at her desk a +little longer to complete it. Mary Erskine gave her leave to do so.</p> + +<p>Bella, who had gone away at first, dancing to the door, pleased to be +released from her confinement, came back to see Mary Bell's picture, +while her mother was examining it. She seemed very much pleased with +it indeed. Then she asked her mother to look at her letters upon the +board. Mary Erskine and Mary Bell both looked at them, one by one, +very attentively, and compared them with the letters which Mary Bell +had made for patterns, and also with specimens of the letters in the +books. Bella took great interest in looking for the letters in the +book, much pleased to find that she knew them wherever she saw them. +Her mother, too, learned <i>a</i> and <i>b</i> very effectually by +this examination of Bella's work. Mary Erskine selected the two best +letters which Bella had made, one of each kind, and rubbed out all the +rest with a cloth. She then put up the board in a conspicuous place +upon a shelf, where the two good letters could be seen by all in the +room. Bella was much pleased at this, and she came in from her play +several times in the course of the day, to look at her letters and to +call them by name.</p> + +<p>When Bella's board had thus been put up in its conspicuous position, +Mary Bell sat down to finish her drawing, while Bella went out to +pick up her two baskets of chips. Mary Bell worked upon her house for +nearly the whole of another half hour. When it was finished she cut +the part of the paper which it was drawn upon off from the rest, and +ruled around it a neat margin of double black lines. She obtained a +narrow strip of wood, from the shop which served her as a ruler. She +said that she meant to have all her drawing lessons of the same size, +and to put the same margin around them. She marked her house No. 1, +writing the numbering in a small but plain hand on one corner. She +wrote the initials of her, name, M.B., in the same small hand, on the +opposite corner.</p> + +<p>Mary Erskine did not attempt <i>her</i> lesson until the evening. She +finished her work about the house a little after eight o'clock, and +then she undressed the children and put them to bed. By this time it +was nearly nine o'clock. The day had been warm and pleasant, but the +nights at this season were cool, and Mary Erskine put two or three dry +sticks upon the fire, before she commenced her work, partly for the +warmth, and partly for the cheerfulness of the blaze.</p> + +<p>She lighted her lamp, and sat down at her work-table, with Mary Bell's +copy, and her pen, ink, and paper, before her. The copy had been +pinned up in sight all the day, and she had very often examined it, +when passing it, in going to and fro at her work. She had thus learned +the names of all the letters in the word Mary, and had made herself +considerably familiar with the forms of them; so that she not only +knew exactly what she had to do in writing the letters, but she felt a +strong interest in doing it. She, however, made extremely awkward +work in her first attempts at writing the letters. She, nevertheless, +steadily persevered. She wrote the words, first in separate letters, +and then afterwards in a joined hand, again and again, going down the +paper. She found that she could write a little more easily, if not +better, as she proceeded,—but still the work was very hard. At ten +o'clock her paper was covered with what she thought were miserable +scrawls, and her wrist and her fingers ached excessively. She put her +work away, and prepared to go to bed.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps I shall have to give it up after all," said she. "But I will +not give up till I am beaten. I will write an hour every day for six +months, and then if I can not write my name so that people can read +it, I will stop."</p> + +<p>The next day about an hour after breakfast Mary Erskine had another +school for the children. Bella took the two next letters <i>c</i> and +<i>d</i> for her lesson, while Mary Bell took the swing hanging from +the branch of the tree in the picture-book, for the subject of her +second drawing. Before beginning her work, she studied all the touches +by which the drawing was made in the book, with great attention and +care, in order that she might imitate them as precisely as possible. +She succeeded very well indeed in this second attempt. The swing made +even a prettier picture than the house. When it was finished she cut +the paper out, of the same size with the other, drew a border around +it, and marked it No. 2. She went on in this manner every day as long +as she remained at Mary Erskine's, drawing a new picture every day. +At last, when she went home, Mary Erskine put all her drawings up +together, and Mary Bell carried them home to show them to her mother. +This was the beginning of Mary Bell's drawing.</p> + +<p>As for Mary Erskine, her second lesson was the word <i>Erskine</i>, +which she found a great deal harder to write than Mary. There was one +thing, however, that pleased her in it, which was that there was one +letter which she knew already, having learned it in Mary: that was the +<i>r</i>. All the rest of the letters, however, were new, and she had +to practice writing the word two evenings before she could write it +well, without looking at the copy. She then thought that probably by +that time she had forgotten <i>Mary</i>; but on trying to write that +word, she was very much pleased to find that she could write it +much more easily than she could before. This encouraged her, and she +accordingly took Forester for her third lesson without any fear of +forgetting the Mary and the Erskine.</p> + +<p>The Forester lesson proved to be a very easy one. There were only +three new letters in it, and those three were very easy to write. In +fine, at the end of the four days, when Mary Bell was to go home, Mary +Erskine could read, write, and spell her name very respectably well.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Bell came herself for Mary when the time of her visit expired. +She was very much pleased to learn how good a girl and how useful her +daughter had been. She was particularly pleased with her drawings. She +said that she had been very desirous to have Mary learn to draw, but +that she did not know it was possible to make so good a beginning +without a teacher.</p> + +<p>"Why I <i>had</i> a teacher," said Mary Bell. "I think that Mary +Erskine is a teacher; and a very good one besides."</p> + +<p>"I think so too," said Mrs. Bell.</p> + +<p>The children went out to get some wild flowers for Mary Bell to carry +home, and Mrs. Bell then asked Mary if she had begun to consider what +it was best for her to do.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Mary Erskine. "I think it will be best for me to sell +the farm, and the new house, and all the stock, and live here in this +house with my children."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Bell did not answer, but seemed to be thinking whether this would +be the best plan or not.</p> + +<p>"The children cannot go to school from here," said Mrs. Bell.</p> + +<p>"No," said Mary Erskine, "but I can teach them myself, I think, till +they are old enough to walk to the school-house. I find that I can +learn the letters faster than Bella can, and that without interfering +with my work; and Mary Bell will come out here now and then and tell +us what we don't know."</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Mrs. Bell, "I shall be glad to have her come as often +as you wish. But it seems to me that you had better move into the +village. Half the money that the farm and the stock will sell for, +will buy you a very pleasant house in the village, and the interest +on the other half, together with what you can earn, will support you +comfortably."</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Mary Erskine, "but then I should be growing poorer, rather +than richer, all the time; and when my children grow large, and I want +the money for them, I shall find that I have spent it all. Now if I +stay here in this house, I shall have no rent to pay, nor shall I lose +the interest of a part of my money, as I should if I were to buy a +house in the village with it to live in myself. I can earn enough here +too by knitting, and by spinning and weaving, for all that we shall +want while the children are young. I can keep a little land with this +house, and let Thomas, or some other such boy live with me, and raise +such things as we want to eat; and so I think I can get along very +well, and put out all the money which I get from the farm and the +stock, at interest. In ten or fifteen years it will be two thousand +dollars. Then I shall be rich, and can move into the village without +any danger.</p> + +<p>"Not two thousand dollars!" said Mrs. Bell.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Mary Erskine, "if I have calculated it right."</p> + +<p>"Why, how much do you think the farm and stock will sell for?" asked +Mrs. Bell.</p> + +<p>"About eight hundred dollars," said Mary Erskine. "That put out at +interest will double in about twelve years."</p> + +<p>"Very well," rejoined Mrs. Bell, "but that makes only sixteen hundred +dollars."</p> + +<p>"But then I think that I can lay up half a dollar a week of my own +earnings, especially when Bella gets a little bigger so as to help me +about the house," said Mary Erskine.</p> + +<p>"Well;" said Mrs. Bell.</p> + +<p>"That," continued Mary Erskine, "will be twenty-five dollars a year. +Which will be at least three hundred dollars in twelve years."</p> + +<p>"Very well," said Mrs. Bell, "that makes nineteen hundred."</p> + +<p>"Then," continued Mary Erskine, "I thought that at the end of the +twelve years I should be able to sell this house and the land around +it for a hundred dollars, especially if I take good care of the +buildings in the mean while."</p> + +<p>"And that makes your two thousand dollars," said Mrs. Bell.</p> + +<p>"Yes," replied Mary Erskine.</p> + +<p>"But suppose you are sick."</p> + +<p>"Oh, if I am sick, or if I die," rejoined Mary Erskine, "of course +that breaks up all my plans. I know I can't plan against calamities."</p> + +<p>"Well," said Mrs. Bell, rising from her seat with a smile of +satisfaction upon her countenance, "I can't advise you. But if ever I +get into any serious trouble, I shall come to you to advise me."</p> + +<p>So bidding Mary Erskine good-bye, Mrs. Bell called her daughter, and +they went together toward their home.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3><a name="CHAPTER_IX" id="CHAPTER_IX" />CHAPTER IX.<br /><br />GOOD MANAGEMENT.</h3> + + +<p>Whenever any person dies, leaving property to be divided among +his heirs, and not leaving any valid will to determine the mode of +division, the property as has already been said, must be divided on +certain principles, established by the law of the land, and under +the direction of the Judge of Probate, who has jurisdiction over +the county in which the property is situated. The Judge of Probate +appoints a person to take charge of the property and divide it among +the heirs. This person is called the administrator, or, if a +woman, the administratrix. The Judge gives the administrator or the +administratrix a paper, which authorises him or her to take charge of +the property, which paper is called, "Letters of Administration." +The letters of administration are usually granted to the wife of the +deceased, or to his oldest son, or, if there is no wife or son, to the +nearest heir who is of proper age and discretion to manage the trust. +The person who receives administration is obliged to take a solemn +oath before the Judge of Probate, that he will report to the Judge a +full account of all the property that belonged to the deceased which +shall come to his knowledge. The Judge also appoints three persons to +go and examine the property, and make an inventory of it, and appraise +every article, so as to know as nearly as possible, how much and what +property there is. These persons are called appraisers. The inventory +which they make out is lodged in the office of the Judge of Probate, +where any person who has an interest in the estate can see it at any +time. The administrator usually keeps a copy of the inventory besides.</p> + +<p>If among the property left by a person deceased, which is to go in +part to children, there are any houses and lands,—a kind of property +which is called in law <i>real estate</i>, to distinguish it from +moveable property, which is called <i>personal estate</i>,—such +real estate cannot be sold, in ordinary cases, by the administrator, +without leave from the Judge of Probate. This leave the Judge of +Probate will give in cases where it is clearly best for the children +that the property should be so sold and the <i>avails of it</i> kept +for them, rather than the property itself. All these things Mrs. Bell +explained to Mary Erskine, having learned about them herself some +years before when her own husband died.</p> + +<p>Accordingly, a few weeks after Albert died, Mary Erskine went one +day in a wagon, taking the baby with her, and Thomas to drive, to the +county town, where the Probate court was held.</p> + +<p class="pic-centre"> +<a name="pic10" id="pic10" /> +<img src="images/pic0010.jpg" width="500" height="470" alt="An engraving of Mary Erskine going to court." title="Going to court." /> +</p> + +<p>At the Probate court, Mary Erskine made all the arrangements necessary +in respect to the estate. She had to go twice, in fact, before all +these arrangements were completed. She expected to have a great deal +of trouble and embarrassment in doing this business, but she did not +find that there was any trouble at all. The Judge of Probate told her +exactly what to do. She was required to sign her name once or twice +to papers. This she did with great trepidation, and after writing her +name, on the first occasion which occurred requiring her signature, +she apologized for not being able to write any better. The Judge of +Probate said that very few of the papers that he received were signed +so well.</p> + +<p>Mary Erskine was appointed administratrix, and the Judge gave her +a paper which he said was her "Letters of Administration." What the +Judge gave to her seemed to be only one paper, but she thought it +probable, as the Judge said "Letters" that there was another inside. +When she got home, however, and opened the paper she found that there +was only one. She could not read it herself, her studies having yet +extended no farther than to the writing of her name. The first time, +however, that Mary Bell came to see her, after she received this +document, she asked Mary Bell to read it to her. Mary Bell did so, +but after she had got through, Mary Erskine said that she could not +understand one word of it from beginning to end. Mary Bell said that +that was not strange, for she believed that lawyers' papers were only +meant for lawyers to understand.</p> + +<p>The appraisers came about this time to make an inventory of the +property. They went all over the house and barns, and took a complete +account of every thing that they found. They made a list of all the +oxen, sheep, cows, horses, and other animals, putting down opposite +to each one, their estimate of its value. They did the same with the +vehicles, and farming implements, and utensils, and also with all +the household furniture, and the provisions and stores. When they had +completed the appraisement they added up the amount, and found that +the total was a little over four hundred dollars, Mary Erskine was +very much surprised to find that there was so much.</p> + +<p>The appraisers then told Mary Erskine that half of that property was +hers, and the other half belonged to the children; and that as much of +their half as was necessary for their support could be used for that +purpose, and the rest must be paid over to them when they became of +age. They said also that she or some one else must be appointed their +guardian, to take care of their part of the property; and that the +guardian could either keep the property as it was, or sell it and +keep the money as she thought would be most for the interest of the +children; and that she had the same power in respect to her own share.</p> + +<p>Mary Erskine said that she thought it would be best for her to sell +the stock and farming tools, because she could not take care of +them nor use them, and she might put the money out at interest. The +appraisers said they thought so too.</p> + +<p>In the end, Mary Erskine was appointed guardian. The idea appeared +strange to her at first of being <i>appointed</i> guardian to her own +children, as it seemed to her that a mother naturally and necessarily +held that relation to her offspring. But the meaning of the law, in +making a mother the guardian of her children by appointment in such +a case as this, is simply to authorize her to take care of +<i>property</i> left to them, or descending to them. It is obvious +that cases must frequently occur in which a mother, though the natural +guardian of her children so far as the personal care of them is +concerned, would not be properly qualified to take charge of any +considerable amount of property coming to them. When the mother is +qualified to take this charge, she can be duly authorized to do +it; and this is the appointment to the guardianship—meaning the +guardianship of the property to which the appointment refers.</p> + +<p>Mary Erskine was accordingly appointed guardian of the children, and +she obtained leave to sell the farm. She decided that it would be best +to sell it as she thought, after making diligent enquiry, that she +could not depend on receiving any considerable annual rent for it, if +she were to attempt to let it. She accordingly sold the farm, with the +new house, and all the stock,—excepting that she reserved from the +farm ten acres of land around her own house, and one cow, one horse, +two pigs, and all the poultry. She also reserved all the household +furniture. These things she took as a part of her portion. The +purchase money for all the rest amounted to nine hundred and fifty +dollars. This sum was considerably more than Mary Erskine had expected +to receive.</p> + +<p>The question now was what should be done with this money. There are +various modes which are adopted for investing such sums so as to get +an annual income from them. The money may be lent to some person who +will take it and pay interest for it. A house may be bought and let to +some one who wishes to hire it; or shares in a rail-road, or a bank, +or a bridge, may be taken. Such kinds of property as those are managed +by directors, who take care of all the profits that are made, and +twice a year divide the money among the persons that own the shares.</p> + +<p>Mary Erskine had a great deal of time for enquiry and reflection in +respect to the proper mode of investing her money, for the man who +purchased the farm and the stock was not to pay the money immediately. +The price agreed upon for the farm, including of course the new house, +was five hundred dollars. The stock, farming utensils, &c, which he +took with it, came to three hundred and sixty dollars. The purchaser +was to pay, of this money, four hundred dollars in three months, +and the balance in six months. Mary Erskine, therefore, had to make +provision for investing the four hundred dollars first.</p> + +<p>She determined, after a great deal of consideration and inquiry, to +lay out this money in buying four shares in the Franconia bridge. +These shares were originally one hundred dollars each, but the bridge +had become so profitable on account of the number of persons that +passed it, and the amount of money which was consequently collected +for tolls, that the shares would sell for a hundred and ten dollars +each. This ten dollars advance over the original price of the shares, +is called <i>premium</i>. Upon the four shares which Mary Erskine was +going to buy, the premium would be of course forty dollars. This money +Mary Erskine concluded to borrow. Mr. Keep said that he would very +gladly lend it to her. Her plan was to pay the borrowed money back out +of the dividends which she would receive from her bridge shares. The +dividend was usually five per centum, or, as they commonly called +it, <i>five per cent.</i>, that is, five dollars on every share of a +hundred dollars every six months.<sup>[A]</sup> The dividend on the four shares +would, of course, be twenty dollars, so that it would take two +dividends to pay off the forty dollar debt to Mr. Keep, besides a +little interest. When this was done, Mary Erskine would have property +in the bridge worth four hundred and forty dollars, without having +used any more than four hundred dollars of her farm money, and she +would continue to have forty dollars a year from it, as long as she +kept it in her possession.</p> + +<div class="footnote">[A] <i>Per</i> is a Latin word meaning <i>for</i>, and +<i>centum</i> another meaning <i>a hundred</i>.</div> + +<p>When the rest of the money for the farm was paid, Mary Erskine +resolved on purchasing a certain small, but very pleasant house with +it. This house was in the village, and she found on inquiry, that it +could be let to a family for fifty dollars a year. It is true that +a part of this fifty dollars would have to be expended every year in +making repairs upon the house, so as to keep it in good order; such as +painting it from time to time, and renewing the roof when the shingles +began to decay, and other similar things. But, then, Mary Erskine +found, on making a careful examination, that after expending as much +of the money which she should receive for the rent of her house, as +should be necessary for the repairs, she should still have rather more +than she would receive from the money to be invested, if it was put +out at interest by lending it to some person who wanted to borrow it. +So she decided to buy the house in preference to adopting any other +plan.</p> + +<p>It happened that the house which Mary Erskine thus determined to buy, +was the very one that Mr. Gordon lived in. The owner of the house +wished to sell it, and offered it first to Mr. Gordon; but he said +that he was not able to buy it. He had been doing very well in his +business, but his expenses were so great, he said, that he had not any +ready money at command. He was very sorry, he added, that the owner +wished to sell the house, for whoever should buy it, would want to +come and live in it, he supposed, and he should be obliged to move +away. The owner said that he was sorry, but that he could not help it.</p> + +<p>A few days after this, Mr. Gordon came home one evening, and told +Anne Sophia, with a countenance expressive of great surprise and some +little vexation, that her old friend, Mrs. Forester, had bought their +house, and was going to move into it. Anne Sophia was amazed at this +intelligence, and both she and her husband were thrown into a state of +great perplexity and trouble. The next morning Anne Sophia went out +to see Mary Erskine about it. Mary Erskine received her in a very kind +and cordial manner.</p> + +<p>"I am very glad to see you," said Mary Erskine. "I was coming to your +house myself in a day or two, about some business, if you had not come +here."</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Anne Sophia. "I understand that you have been buying our +house away from over our heads, and are going to turn us out of house +and home."</p> + +<p>"Oh, no," said Mary Erskine, smiling, "not at all. In the first place, +I have not really bought the house yet, but am only talking about it; +and in the second place, if I buy it, I shall not want it myself, but +shall wish to have you live in it just as you have done."</p> + +<p>"You will not want it yourself!" exclaimed Anne Sophia, astonished.</p> + +<p>"No," said Mary Erskine, "I am only going to buy it as an investment."</p> + +<p>There were so many things to be astonished at in this statement, that +Anne Sophia hardly knew where to begin with her wonder. First, she was +surprised to learn that Mary Erskine had so much money. When she heard +that she had bought the house, she supposed of course that she had +bought it on credit, for the sake of having a house in the village to +live in. Then she was amazed at the idea of any person continuing to +live in a log house in the woods, when she had a pretty house of +her own in the middle of the village. She could not for some time be +satisfied that Mary Erskine was in earnest in what she said. But when +she found that it was really so, she went away greatly relieved. Mary +Erskine told her that she had postponed giving her final answer about +buying the house, in order first to see Mr. Gordon, to know whether +he had any objection to the change of ownership. She knew, of course, +that Mr. Gordon would have no right to object, but she rightly +supposed that he would be gratified at having her ask him the +question.</p> + +<p>Mary Erskine went on after this for two or three years very +prosperously in all her affairs. Thomas continued to live with her, +in her log-house, and to cultivate the land which she had retained. In +the fall and winter, when there was nothing to be done in the fields +or garden, he was accustomed to work in the shop, making improvements +for the house, such as finishing off the stoop into another room, to +be used for a kitchen, making new windows to the house, and a regular +front door, and in preparing fences and gates to be put up around +the house. He made an aqueduct, too, to conduct the water from a new +spring which he discovered at a place higher than the house, and so +brought a constant stream of water into the kitchen which he had +made in the stoop. The stumps, too, in the fields around the house, +gradually decayed, so that Thomas could root them out and smooth over +the ground where they had stood. Mary Erskine's ten acres thus became +very smooth and beautiful. It was divided by fences into very pleasant +fields, with green lanes shaded by trees, leading from one place to +another. The brook flowed through this land along a very beautiful +valley, and there were groves and thickets here and there, both along +the margin of the brook, and in the corners of the fields, which +gave to the grounds a very sheltered, as well as a very picturesque +expression. Mary Erskine also caused trees and shrubbery to be planted +near the house, and trained honey-suckles and wild roses upon a +trellis over the front door. All these improvements were made in a +very plain and simple manner, and at very little expense, and yet +there was so much taste exercised in the arrangement of them all, that +the effect was very agreeable in the end. The house and all about it +formed, in time, an enchanting picture of rural beauty.<sup>[B]</sup></p> + +<div class="footnote">[B] See <a href="#pic01a">Frontispiece</a>.</div> + +<p>It was, however, only a few occasional hours of recreation that Mary +Erskine devoted to ornamenting her dwelling. The main portion of her +time and attention was devoted to such industrial pursuits as were +most available in bringing in the means of support for herself and her +children, so as to leave untouched the income from her house and her +bridge shares. This income, as fast as it was paid in, she deposited +with Mr. Keep, to be lent out on interest, until a sufficient sum was +thus accumulated to make a new investment of a permanent character. +When the sum at length amounted to two hundred and twenty dollars, she +bought two more bridge shares with it, and from that time forward +she received dividends on six shares instead of four; that is, she +received thirty dollars every six months, instead of twenty, as +before.</p> + +<p>One reason why Mary Erskine invested her money in a house and in a +bridge, instead of lending it out at interest, was that by so doing, +her property was before her in a visible form, and she could take a +constant pleasure in seeing it. Whenever she went to the village +she enjoyed seeing her house, which she kept in a complete state of +repair, and which she had ornamented with shrubbery and trees, so that +it was a very agreeable object to look upon of itself, independently +of the pleasure of ownership. In the same manner she liked to see the +bridge, and think when teams and people were passing over it, that a +part of all the toll which they paid, would, in the end, come to her. +She thus took the same kind of pleasure in having purchased a house, +and shares in a bridge, that any lady in a city would take in an +expensive new carpet, or a rosewood piano, which would cost about the +same sum; and then she had all the profit, in the shape of the annual +income, besides.</p> + +<p>There was one great advantage too which Mary Erskine derived from +owning this property, which, though she did not think of it at all +when she commenced her prudent and economical course, at the time of +her marriage, proved in the end to be of inestimable value to her. +This advantage was the high degree of respectability which it gave her +in the public estimation. The people of the village gradually found +out how she managed, and how fast her property was increasing, and +they entertained for her a great deal of that kind of respect which +worldly prosperity always commands. The store-keepers were anxious to +have her custom. Those who had money to lend were always very ready to +let her have it, if at any time she wished to make up a sum for a new +investment: and all the ladies of the village were willing that their +daughters should go out to her little farm to visit Bella, and to +have Bella visit them in return. Thus Mary Erskine found that she was +becoming quite an important personage.</p> + +<p>Her plan of teaching herself and her children succeeded perfectly. By +the time that she had thoroughly learned to write her own name, she +knew half of the letters of the alphabet, for her name contained +nearly that number. She next learned to write her children's names, +Bella Forester and Albert Forester. After that, she learned to write +the names of all the months, and to read them when she had written +them. She chose the names of the months, next after the names of +her own family, so that she might be able to date her letters if she +should ever have occasion to write any.</p> + +<p>Mary Bell set copies for her, when she came out to see her, and Mary +Erskine went on so much faster than Bella, that she could teach her +very well. She required Bella to spend an hour at her studies every +day. Thomas made a little desk for her, and her mother bought her a +slate and a pencil, and in process of time an arithmetic, and other +books. As soon as Mary Erskine could read fluently, Mary Bell used to +bring out books to her, containing entertaining stories. At first Mary +Bell would read these stories to her once, while she was at her work, +and then Mary Erskine, having heard Mary Bell read them, could read +them herself in the evening without much difficulty. At length she +made such progress that she could read the stories herself alone, the +first time, with very little trouble.</p> + +<p>Thus things went on in a very pleasant and prosperous manner, and this +was the condition of Mary Erskine and of her affairs, at the time when +Malleville and Phonny went to pay her their visit, as described in the +first chapter of this volume.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3><a name="CHAPTER_X" id="CHAPTER_X" />CHAPTER X.<br /><br />THE VISIT TO MARY ERSKINE'S.</h3> + + +<p>Malleville and Phonny arrived at Mary Erskine's about an hour after +Beechnut left them. They met with no special adventures by the way, +except that when they reached the great pine-tree, Phonny proposed to +climb up, for the purpose of examining a small bunch which he saw upon +one of the branches, which he thought was a bird's nest. It was the +same pine-tree that marked the place at which a road branched off into +the woods, where Mary Bell had lost her way, several years before. +Malleville was very unwilling to have Phonny climb up upon such a high +tree, but Phonny himself was very desirous to make the attempt. There +was a log fence at the foot of the tree, and the distance was not very +great from the uppermost log of the fence, to the lowermost branch +of the tree. So Phonny thought that he could get up without any +difficulty.</p> + +<p>Malleville was afraid to have him try, and she said that if he did, he +would be acting just as foolish as the boy that Beechnut had told them +about, who nipped his own nose; and that she should not stop to see +him do any such foolishness. So she walked along as fast as she could +go.</p> + +<p>Phonny unfortunately was rendered only the more determined to climb +the tree by Malleville's opposition. He accordingly mounted up to the +top of the fence, and thence reaching the lower branches of the tree +he succeeded at length, by dint of much scrambling and struggling, in +lifting himself up among them. He climbed out to the limb where he had +seen the appearances of a bird's nest, but found to his disappointment +that there was no bird's nest there. The bunch was only a little tuft +of twigs growing out together.</p> + +<p>Phonny then began to shout out for Malleville to wait for him.</p> + +<p>"Mal—le—ville! Mal—le—ville!" said he. "Wait a minute for me. I am +coming down."</p> + +<p>He did not like to be left there all alone, in the gloomy and solitary +forest. So he made all the haste possible in descending. There are a +great many accidents which may befall a boy in coming down a tree. The +one which Phonny was fated to incur in this instance, was to catch his +trowsers near the knee, in a small sharp twig which projected from a +branch, and tear them.</p> + +<p>When he reached the ground he looked at the rent in dismay. He was +generally nice and particular about his clothes, and he was very +unwilling to go to Mary Erskine's, and let her and Bella see him in +such a plight. He was equally unwilling to go home again, and to lose +his visit.</p> + +<p>"Provoking!" said he. "That comes from Malleville's hurrying me so. +It is all her fault." Then starting off suddenly, he began to run, +shouting out, "Malleville! Malleville!"</p> + +<p>At length, when he got pretty near her, he called out for her to stop +and see what she had made him do.</p> + +<p>"Did I make you do that?" said Malleville, looking at the rent, while +Phonny stood with his foot extended, and pointing at it with his +finger.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Phonny,—"because you hurried me."</p> + +<p>"Well, I'm sorry;" said Malleville, looking very much concerned.</p> + +<p>Phonny was put quite to a nonplus by this unexpected answer. He had +expected to hear Malleville deny that it was her fault that he had +torn his clothes, and was prepared to insist strenuously that it was; +but this unlooked-for gentleness seemed to leave him not a word to +say. So he walked along by the side of Malleville in silence.</p> + +<p>"Was it a pretty bird's-nest?" said Malleville in a conciliatory tone, +after a moment's pause.</p> + +<p>"No," said Phonny. "It was not any bird's nest at all."</p> + +<p>When the children reached the farm as they called it, Mary Erskine +seated Phonny on the bed, and then drawing up her chair near to him, +she took his foot in her lap and mended the rent so neatly that there +was afterwards no sign of it to be seen.</p> + +<p>Little Albert was at this time about three years old, and Bella was +seven. Phonny, while Mary Erskine was mending his clothes, asked where +the children were. Mary Erskine said that they had gone out into +the fields with Thomas, to make hay. So Phonny and Malleville, after +getting proper directions in respect to the way that they were to go, +set off in pursuit of them.</p> + +<p>They went out at a back-door which led to a beautiful walk under +a long trellis, which was covered with honey-suckles and roses. +Malleville stopped to get a rose, and Phonny to admire two +humming-birds that were playing about the honey-suckles. He wished +very much that he could catch one of them, but he could not even get +near them. From the end of the trellis's walk the children entered a +garden, and at the back side of the garden they went through a narrow +place between two posts into a field. They walked along the side of +this field, by a very pleasant path with high green grass and flowers +on one side, and a wall with a great many raspberry bushes growing +by it, and now and then little thickets of trees, on the other. The +bushes and trees made the walk that they were going in very cool and +shady. There were plenty of raspberries upon the bushes, but they were +not yet ripe. Phonny said that when the raspberries were ripe he meant +to come out to Mary Erskine's again and get some.</p> + +<p>Presently the children turned a sort of a corner which was formed by a +group of trees, and then they came in sight of the hay-making party.</p> + +<p>"Oh, they have got the horse and cart," said Phonny. So saying he set +off as fast he could run, toward the hay-makers, Malleville following +him.</p> + +<p>The horse and cart were standing in the middle of the field among the +numerous winrows of hay. The two children of Mrs. Forester, Bella +and Albert, were in the cart, treading down the hay as fast as Thomas +pitched it up. As soon as Phonny and Malleville reached the place, +Malleville stood still with her hands behind her, looking at the scene +with great interest and pleasure. Phonny wanted to know if Thomas had +not got another pitch-fork, so that he might help him pitch up the +hay.</p> + +<p>Thomas said, no. He, however, told Phonny that he might get into the +cart if he pleased, and drive the horse along when it was time to +go to a new place. Phonny was extremely pleased with this plan. He +climbed into the cart, Bella helping him up by a prodigious lift which +she gave him, seizing him by the shoulder as he came up. Malleville +was afraid to get into the cart at all, but preferred walking along +the field and playing among the winrows.</p> + +<p>Phonny drove along from place to place as Thomas directed him, until +at length the cart was so full that it was no longer safe for the +children to remain upon the top. They then slid down the hay to the +ground, Thomas receiving them so as to prevent any violent fall. +Thomas then forked up as much more hay as he could make stay upon the +top of his load, and when this was done, he set out to go to the barn. +The children accompanied him, walking behind the cart.</p> + +<p>When the party reached the barn, the children went inside to a place +which Phonny called the bay. Thomas drove his cart up near the side of +the barn without, and began to pitch the hay in through a great square +window, quite high up. The window opened into the bay, so that the +hay, when Thomas pitched it in, fell down into the place where the +children were standing. They jumped upon it, when it came down, with +great glee. As every new forkful which Thomas pitched in came without +any warning except the momentary darkening of the window, it sometimes +fell upon the children's heads and half buried them, each new accident +of this kind awakening, as it occurred, loud and long continued bursts +of laughter.</p> + +<p>After getting in two or three loads of hay in this manner, dinner +time came, and the whole party went in to dinner. They found when +they entered the house that Mary Erskine had been frying nut-cakes and +apple-turnovers for them. There was a large earthen pan full of such +things, and there were more over the fire. There were also around the +table four bowls full of very rich looking milk, with a spoon in each +bowl, and a large supply of bread, cut into very small pieces, upon +a plate near the bowls. The children were all hungry and thirsty, and +they gathered around the table to eat the excellent dinner which Mary +Erskine had provided for them, with an air of great eagerness and +delight.</p> + +<p>After their dinner was over, Mary Erskine said that they might go out +and play for half an hour, and that then she would go with them +into the fields, and see if they could not find some strawberries. +Accordingly, when the time arrived, they all assembled at the door, +and Mary Erskine came out, bringing mugs and baskets to put the +strawberries in. There were four mugs made of tin; such as were there +called <i>dippers</i>. There were two pretty large baskets besides, +both covered. Mary Erskine gave to each of the children a dipper, and +carried the baskets herself. She seemed to carry them very carefully, +and they appeared to be heavy, as if there might be something inside. +Phonny wanted very much to know what there was in those baskets. Mary +Erskine said he must guess.</p> + +<p>"Some cake," said Phonny.</p> + +<p>"Guess again," said Mary Erskine.</p> + +<p>"Apples," said Phonny.</p> + +<p>"Guess again," said Mary Erskine.</p> + +<p>"Why, have not I guessed right yet?" asked Phonny.</p> + +<p>"I can't tell you," replied Mary Erskine. "Only you may guess as much +as you please."</p> + +<p>Phonny of course gave up guessing, since he was not to be told whether +he guessed right or not; though he said he was sure that it was cake, +or else, perhaps, some of the turn-overs. The party walked along by +very pleasant paths until they came to a field by the side of the +brook. There were trees along the banks of the brook, under which, +and near the water, there were a great many cool and shady places +that were very pleasant. Mary Erskine led the way down to one of these +where there was a large flat stone near the water. She hid her two +baskets in the bushes, and then directed the children to go up into +the field with her and get the strawberries. The strawberries were not +only very abundant, but also very large and ripe. Mary Erskine said +that they might all eat ten, but no more. All that they got, except +ten, they must put into their dippers, until the dippers were full. +She herself went busily at work, finding strawberries and putting them +into the dippers of the children, sometimes into one and sometimes +into another. In a short time the dippers were full.</p> + +<p>The whole party then went back to the brook and sat down upon the +great flat stone, with their dippers before them. Mary Erskine then +brought out one of her baskets, and lifting up the cover, she took out +five saucers and five spoons.</p> + +<p>"There," said she, "I brought you some saucers and spoons to eat your +strawberries with. Now take up the bunches from your dippers, and pull +off the strawberries from the stems, and put them in the saucers."</p> + +<p>While the children were all busily engaged in doing this, Mary Erskine +opened the other basket, and took out a pitcher of very rich looking +cream. The sight of this treasure of course awakened in all the +party the utmost enthusiasm and delight. They went on hulling their +strawberries very industriously, and were soon ready, one after +another, to have the cream poured over them, which Mary Erskine +proceeded to do, giving to each one of the children a very abundant +supply.</p> + +<p class="pic-centre"> +<a name="pic11" id="pic11" /> +<img src="images/pic0011.jpg" width="500" height="485" alt="An engraving of the strawberry party." title="The Strawberry Party." /> +</p> + +<p>Phonny finished his strawberries first, and then went to the margin of +the brook to look into the water, in order, as he said, "to see if he +could see any fishes." He did see several, and became greatly excited +in consequence, calling eagerly upon the rest of the party to +come down and look. He said that he wished very much that he had a +fishing-line. Mary Erskine said that Thomas had a fishing-line, +which he would lend him, she had no doubt; and away Phonny went, +accordingly, to find Thomas and to get the line.</p> + +<p>This procedure was not quite right on Phonny's part. It is not right +to abandon one's party under such circumstances as these, for the sake +of some new pleasure accidentally coming into view, which the whole +party cannot share. Besides, Phonny left his dipper for Mary Erskine +or Malleville to carry up, instead of taking care of it himself. Mary +Erskine, however, said that this was of no consequence, as she could +carry it just as well as not.</p> + +<p>Mary Erskine and the three remaining children, then went back to the +house, where Bella and Malleville amused themselves for half an hour +in building houses with the blocks in Thomas's shop, when all at once +Malleville was surprised to see Beechnut coming in. Beechnut, was +returning from the mill, and as the children had had to walk nearly +all the way to Mary Erskine's, he thought it very probable that they +would be too tired to walk back again. So he had left his horse +and wagon at the corner, and had walked out to the farm to take the +children home with him, if they were ready to go.</p> + +<p>"I am not <i>ready</i> to go," said Malleville, after having heard +this story, but I <i>will</i> go for the sake of the ride. I am +too tired to walk all the way. But Phonny is not here. He has gone +a-fishing."</p> + +<p>"Where has he gone?" said Beechnut.</p> + +<p>"Down to the brook," replied Malleville.</p> + +<p>"I will go and find him," said Beechnut.</p> + +<p>So saying, Beechnut left the shop, went out into the yard, and began +to walk down the path which led toward the brook. Very soon he +saw Phonny coming out from among the bushes with his pole over his +shoulder, and walking along with quite a disconsolate air. Beechnut +sat down upon a log by the side of the road, to wait for him.</p> + +<p>"Did you catch any fishes?" said Beechnut, as Phonny approached him.</p> + +<p>"No," said Phonny, despondingly.</p> + +<p>"I am glad of that," said Beechnut.</p> + +<p>"Glad!" said Phonny, looking up surprised, and somewhat displeased. +"What are you glad for?"</p> + +<p>"For the sake of the fishes," said Beechnut.</p> + +<p>"Hoh!" said Phonny. "And the other day, when I did catch some, you +said you were glad of that."</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Beechnut, "then I was glad for your sake. There is always +a chance to be glad for some sake or other, happen what may."</p> + +<p>This, though very good philosophy, did not appear to be just at that +time at all satisfactory to Phonny.</p> + +<p>"I have had nothing but ill-luck all this afternoon," said Phonny, in +a pettish tone. "That great ugly black horse of Thomas's trod on my +foot."</p> + +<p>"Did he?" said Beechnut; his countenance brightening up at the same +time, as if Phonny had told him some good news.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Phonny, "Thomas came along near where I was fishing, and I +laid down my fishing-line, and went up to the horse, and was standing +by his head, and he trod on my foot dreadfully."</p> + +<p>"Did he?" said Beechnut, "I am very glad of that."</p> + +<p>"Glad of that!" repeated Phonny. "I don't see whose sake you can be +glad of that for. I am sure it did not do the horse any good."</p> + +<p>"I am glad of that for your sake," said Beechnut. "There never was a +boy that grew up to be a man, that did not have his foot trod upon at +some time or other by a horse. There is no other possible way for +them to learn that when a horse takes up his foot, he will put it down +again wherever it happens, and if a boy's foot is under it, it will +get trod upon. There is no possible way for boys to learn that but +by experiencing it. The only difference is, that some boys take the +treading light, and others get it heavy. You have got it light. So if +you have only learned the lesson, you have learned it very easily, and +so I am glad."</p> + +<p>"No, it was not light," said Phonny. "It was very heavy. What makes +you think it was light?"</p> + +<p>"By your walking," replied Beechnut. "I have known some boys that when +they took their lesson in keeping out of the way of horses' forefeet, +could not stand for a week after it. You have had most excellent luck, +you may depend."</p> + +<p>By the time that Beechnut and Phonny reached the house, Malleville +had put on her bonnet and was ready to go. Mary Erskine said that she +would go with them a little way. Bella and Albert then wanted to go +too. Their mother said that she had no objection, and so they all went +along together.</p> + +<p>"Did you know that we were going to have a new road?" said Mary +Erskine to Beechnut.</p> + +<p>"Are you?" asked Phonny eagerly.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Mary Erskine. "They have laid out a new road to the +corner, and are going to make it very soon. It will be a very good +wagon road, and when it is made you can ride all the way. But then it +will not be done in time for my raspberry party."</p> + +<p>"Your raspberry party?" repeated Phonny, "what is that?'</p> + +<p>"Did not I tell you about it? I am going to invite you and all the +children in the village that I know, to come here some day when the +raspberries are ripe, and have a raspberry party,—like the strawberry +party that we had to-day. There are a great many raspberries on my +place."</p> + +<p>"I'm <i>very</i> glad," said Malleville. "When are you going to invite +us?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, in a week or two," said Mary Erskine. "But then the new road will +not be done until the fall. They have just begun it. We can hear them +working upon it in one place, pretty soon."</p> + +<p>The party soon came to the place which Mary Erskine had referred to. +It was a point where the new road came near the line of the old one, +and a party of men and oxen were at work, making a causeway, across a +low wet place. As the children passed along, they could hear the sound +of axes and the voices of men shouting to oxen. Phonny wished very +much to go and see. So Mary Erskine led the way through the woods a +short distance, till they came in sight of the men at work. They were +engaged in felling trees, pulling out rocks and old logs which were +sunken in the mire, by means of oxen and chains, and in other similar +works, making all the time loud and continual vociferations, which +resounded and echoed through the forest in a very impressive manner.</p> + +<p>What interested Phonny most in these operations, was to see how +patiently the oxen bore being driven about in the deep mire, and the +prodigious strength which they exerted in pulling out the logs. One of +the workmen would take a strong iron chain, and while two others would +pry up the end of a log with crow-bars or levers, he would pass +the chain under the end so raised, and then hook it together above. +Another man would then back up a pair of oxen to the place, and +sometimes two pairs, in order that they might be hooked to the chain +which passed around the log. When all was ready, the oxen were started +forward, and though they went very slowly, step by step, yet they +exerted such prodigious strength as to tear the log out of its bed, +and drag it off, roots, branches, and all, entirely out of the way.</p> + +<p>Monstrous rocks were lifted up and dragged out of the line of the road +in much the same manner.</p> + +<p>After looking at this scene for some time, the party returned to the +old road again, and there Mary Erskine said that she would bid her +visitors good-bye, and telling them that she would not forget to +invite them to her raspberry party, she took leave of them and went +back toward her own home.</p> + +<p>"If all the children of the village that Mary Erskine knows, are +invited to that party," said Phonny, "what a great raspberry party it +will be!"</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Beechnut, "it will be a raspberry <i>jam</i>."</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3>THE END.</h3> + +<div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 14475 ***</div> +</body> +</html> diff --git a/14475-h/images/pic0001a.jpg b/14475-h/images/pic0001a.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..7427a8a --- /dev/null +++ b/14475-h/images/pic0001a.jpg diff --git a/14475-h/images/pic0001b.jpg b/14475-h/images/pic0001b.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..0316c57 --- /dev/null +++ b/14475-h/images/pic0001b.jpg diff --git a/14475-h/images/pic0002.jpg b/14475-h/images/pic0002.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..13c0789 --- /dev/null +++ b/14475-h/images/pic0002.jpg diff --git a/14475-h/images/pic0003.jpg b/14475-h/images/pic0003.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..faad4f8 --- /dev/null +++ b/14475-h/images/pic0003.jpg diff --git a/14475-h/images/pic0004.jpg b/14475-h/images/pic0004.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..18d6023 --- /dev/null +++ b/14475-h/images/pic0004.jpg diff --git a/14475-h/images/pic0005.jpg b/14475-h/images/pic0005.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..745a986 --- /dev/null +++ b/14475-h/images/pic0005.jpg diff --git a/14475-h/images/pic0006.jpg b/14475-h/images/pic0006.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..3472800 --- /dev/null +++ b/14475-h/images/pic0006.jpg diff --git a/14475-h/images/pic0007.jpg b/14475-h/images/pic0007.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..9f1cacc --- /dev/null +++ b/14475-h/images/pic0007.jpg diff --git a/14475-h/images/pic0008.jpg b/14475-h/images/pic0008.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..5a901db --- /dev/null +++ b/14475-h/images/pic0008.jpg diff --git a/14475-h/images/pic0009.jpg b/14475-h/images/pic0009.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..b8038d9 --- /dev/null +++ b/14475-h/images/pic0009.jpg diff --git a/14475-h/images/pic0010.jpg b/14475-h/images/pic0010.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..efc4354 --- /dev/null +++ b/14475-h/images/pic0010.jpg diff --git a/14475-h/images/pic0011.jpg b/14475-h/images/pic0011.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..7ccefab --- /dev/null +++ b/14475-h/images/pic0011.jpg diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..7f0246d --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #14475 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/14475) diff --git a/old/14475-h.zip b/old/14475-h.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..e50f204 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/14475-h.zip diff --git a/old/14475-h/14475-h.htm b/old/14475-h/14475-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..4f1f965 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/14475-h/14475-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,4697 @@ +<?xml version="1.0" encoding="UTF-8"?> +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"> + <head> + <title> + The Project Gutenberg eBook of Mary Erskine, by Jacob Abbott. + </title> + <style type="text/css"> +/*<![CDATA[ XML blockout */ +<!-- + p { margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; + } + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + } + hr { width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + } + body{margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + } + + table {margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;} + + .pic-centre {margin: auto; text-align: center;} + + .footnotes {border: dashed 1px;} + .footnote {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-size: 0.9em;} + .footnote .label {position: absolute; left: 12%; text-align: left;} + + // --> + /* XML end ]]>*/ + </style> + </head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Mary Erskine, by Jacob Abbott + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Mary Erskine + +Author: Jacob Abbott + +Release Date: December 26, 2004 [EBook #14475] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MARY ERSKINE *** + + + + +Produced by Sherry Hamby, Ted Garvin, Cori Samuel and the PG Online +Distributed Proofreading Team + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<p class="pic-centre"> +<a name="pic01a" id="pic01a" /> +<img src="images/pic0001a.jpg" width="644" height="400" alt="An engraving of Mary Erskine's Farm" title="Mary Erskine's Farm" /> +</p> + +<h1>MARY ERSKINE</h1> + +<h3>A Franconia Story,</h3> + +<h2>BY THE AUTHOR OF THE ROLLO BOOKS.</h2> + +<h4>NEW YORK: HARPER & BROTHERS PUBLISHERS. FRANKLIN SQUARE.</h4> + +<h5>Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1850, by<br /> +HARPER & BROTHERS,<br /> +In the Clerk's Office for the Southern District of New York.</h5> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<h2>PREFACE.</h2> + + +<p>The development of the moral sentiments in the human heart, in early +life,—and every thing in fact which relates to the formation of +character,—is determined in a far greater degree by sympathy, and +by the influence of example, than by formal precepts and didactic +instruction. If a boy hears his father speaking kindly to a robin in +the spring,—welcoming its coming and offering it food,—there arises +at once in his own mind, a feeling of kindness toward the bird, +and toward all the animal creation, which is produced by a sort of +sympathetic action, a power somewhat similar to what in physical +philosophy is called <i>induction</i>. On the other hand, if the +father, instead of feeding the bird, goes eagerly for a gun, in order +that he may shoot it, the boy will sympathize in that desire, and +growing up under such an influence, there will be gradually formed +within him, through the mysterious tendency of the youthful heart to +vibrate in unison with hearts that are near, a disposition to kill and +destroy all helpless beings that come within his power. There is no +need of any formal instruction in either case. Of a thousand children +brought up under the former of the above-described influences, nearly +every one, when he sees a bird, will wish to go and get crumbs to feed +it, while in the latter case, nearly every one will just as certainly +look for a stone. Thus the growing up in the right atmosphere, rather +than the receiving of the right instruction, is the condition which +it is most important to secure, in plans for forming the characters of +children.</p> + +<p>It is in accordance with this philosophy that these stories, though +written mainly with a view to their moral influence on the hearts and +dispositions of the readers, contain very little formal exhortation +and instruction. They present quiet and peaceful pictures of happy +domestic life, portraying generally such conduct, and expressing such +sentiments and feelings, as it is desirable to exhibit and express in +the presence of children.</p> + +<p>The books, however, will be found, perhaps, after all, to be useful +mainly in entertaining and amusing the youthful readers who may peruse +them, as the writing of them has been the amusement and recreation of +the author in the intervals of more serious pursuits.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>CONTENTS.</h2> + +<p><b>CHAPTER</b></p> +<ul> + <li><a href="#CHAPTER_I">I.—JEMMY</a></li> + <li><a href="#CHAPTER_II">II.—THE BRIDE</a></li> + <li><a href="#CHAPTER_III">III.—MARY ERSKINE'S VISITORS</a></li> + <li><a href="#CHAPTER_IV">IV.—CALAMITY</a></li> + <li><a href="#CHAPTER_V">V.—CONSULTATIONS</a></li> + <li><a href="#CHAPTER_VI">VI.—MARY BELL IN THE WOODS</a></li> + <li><a href="#CHAPTER_VII">VII.—HOUSE-KEEPING</a></li> + <li><a href="#CHAPTER_VIII">VIII.—THE SCHOOL</a></li> + <li><a href="#CHAPTER_IX">IX.—GOOD MANAGEMENT</a></li> + <li><a href="#CHAPTER_X">X.—THE VISIT TO MARY ERSKINE'S</a></li> +</ul> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>ENGRAVINGS.</h2> + +<ul> + <li><a href="#pic01a">MARY ERSKINE'S FARM—FRONTISPIECE.</a></li> + <li><a href="#pic02">CATCHING THE HORSE</a></li> + <li><a href="#pic03">THE LOG HOUSE</a></li> + <li><a href="#pic04">MARY BELL AT THE BROOK</a></li> + <li><a href="#pic05">THE WIDOW AND THE FATHERLESS</a></li> + <li><a href="#pic06">MRS. BELL</a></li> + <li><a href="#pic07">MARY BELL AND QUEEN BESS</a></li> + <li><a href="#pic08">MARY BELL GETTING BREAKFAST</a></li> + <li><a href="#pic09">THE SCHOOL</a></li> + <li><a href="#pic10">GOING TO COURT</a></li> + <li><a href="#pic11">THE STRAWBERRY PARTY</a></li> +</ul> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3>THE FRANCONIA STORIES. +<br /><br /></h3> +<div class="pic-centre"> +<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="7" summary="Books in the Franconia series, in order."> +<caption>ORDER OF THE VOLUMES.</caption> + <tr><td>MALLEVILLE.</td><td>RODOLPHUS.</td></tr> + <tr><td>WALLACE.</td><td>ELLEN LINN.</td></tr> + <tr><td>MARY ERSKINE.</td><td>STUYVESANT.</td></tr> + <tr><td>MARY BELL.</td><td>CAROLINE.</td></tr> + <tr><td>BEECHNUT.</td><td>AGNES.</td></tr> +</table> +</div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h4>SCENE OF THE STORY</h4> + +<p>The country in the vicinity of Franconia, at the North.</p> +<p> </p> +<h4>PRINCIPAL PERSONS</h4> + +<p>MARY ERSKINE.</p> + +<p>ALBERT.</p> + +<p>PHONNY and MALLEVILLE, cousins, residing at the house of Phonny's +mother.</p> + +<p>MRS. HENRY, Phonny's mother.</p> + +<p>ANTONIO BLANCHINETTE, a French boy, residing at Mrs. Henry's; commonly +called Beechnut.</p> + +<p>MRS. BELL, a widow lady, living in the vicinity of Mrs. Henry's.</p> + +<p>MARY BELL, her daughter.</p> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3><a name="CHAPTER_I" id="CHAPTER_I" />CHAPTER I.<br /><br />JEMMY.</h3> + + +<p>Malleville and her cousin Phonny generally played together at +Franconia a great part of the day, and at night they slept in two +separate recesses which opened out of the same room. These recesses +were deep and large, and they were divided from the room by curtains, +so that they formed as it were separate chambers: and yet the children +could speak to each other from them in the morning before they got up, +since the curtains did not intercept the sound of their voices. They +might have talked in the same manner at night, after they had gone to +bed, but this was against Mrs. Henry's rules.</p> + +<p>One morning Malleville, after lying awake a few minutes, listening to +the birds that were singing in the yard, and wishing that the window +was open so that she could hear them more distinctly, heard Phonny's +voice calling to her.</p> + +<p>"Malleville," said he, "are you awake?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Malleville, "are you?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Phonny, "I'm awake—but what a cold morning it is!"</p> + +<p>It was indeed a cold morning, or at least a very <i>cool</i> one. +This was somewhat remarkable, as it was in the month of June. But the +country about Franconia was cold in winter, and cool in summer. Phonny +and Malleville rose and dressed themselves, and then went down stairs. +They hoped to find a fire in the sitting-room, but there was none.</p> + +<p>"How sorry I am," said Phonny. "But hark, I hear a roaring."</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Malleville; "it is the oven; they are going to bake."</p> + +<p>The back of the oven was so near to the partition wall which formed +one side of the sitting-room, that the sound of the fire could be +heard through it. The mouth of the oven however opened into +another small room connected with the kitchen, which was called the +baking-room. The children went out into the baking-room, to warm +themselves by the oven fire.</p> + +<p>"I am very glad that it is a cool day," said Phonny, "for perhaps +mother will let us go to Mary Erskine's. Should not you like to go?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Malleville, "very much. Where is it?"</p> + +<p>The readers who have perused the preceding volumes of this series +will have observed that Mary Bell, who lived with her mother in the +pleasant little farm-house at a short distance from the village, was +always called by her full name, Mary Bell, and not ever, or scarcely +ever, merely Mary. People had acquired the habit of speaking of her in +this way, in order to distinguish her from another Mary who lived with +Mrs. Bell for several years. This other Mary was Mary Erskine. Mary +Erskine did not live now at Mrs. Bell's, but at another house which +was situated nearly two miles from Mrs. Henry's, and the way to it +was by a very wild and unfrequented road. The children were frequently +accustomed to go and make Mary Erskine a visit; but it was so long a +walk that Mrs. Henry never allowed them to go unless on a very cool +day.</p> + +<p>At breakfast that morning Phonny asked his mother if that would not be +a good day for them to go and see Mary Erskine. Mrs. Henry said that +it would be an excellent day, and that she should be very glad to have +them go, for there were some things there to be brought home. Besides +Beechnut was going to mill, and he could carry them as far as Kater's +corner.</p> + +<p>Kater's corner was a place where a sort of cart path, branching off +from the main road, led through the woods to the house where Mary +Erskine lived. It took its name from a farmer, whose name was Kater, +and whose house was at the corner where the roads diverged. The main +road itself was very rough and wild, and the cart path which led from +the corner was almost impassable in summer, even for a wagon, though +it was a very romantic and beautiful road for travelers on horseback +or on foot. In the winter the road was excellent: for the snow buried +all the roughness of the way two or three feet deep, and the teams +which went back and forth into the woods, made a smooth and beautiful +track for every thing on runners, upon the top of it.</p> + +<p>Malleville and Phonny were very much pleased with the prospect of +riding a part of the way to Mary Erskine's, with Beechnut, in the +wagon. They made themselves ready immediately after breakfast, and +then went and sat down upon the step of the door, waiting for Beechnut +to appear. Beechnut was in the barn, harnessing the horse into the +wagon.</p> + +<p>Malleville sat down quietly upon the step while waiting for Beechnut. +Phonny began to amuse himself by climbing up the railing of the +bannisters, at the side of the stairs. He was trying to poise himself +upon the top of the railing and then to work himself up the ascent +by pulling and pushing with his hands and feet against the bannisters +themselves below.</p> + +<p>"I wish you would not do that," said Malleville. "I think it is very +foolish, for you may fall and hurt yourself."</p> + +<p>"No," said Phonny. "It is not foolish. It is very useful for me to +learn to climb." So saying he went on scrambling up the railing of the +bannisters as before.</p> + +<p>Just then Beechnut came along through the yard, towards the house. He +was coming for the whip.</p> + +<p>"Beechnut," said Malleville, "I wish that you would speak to Phonny."</p> + +<p>"<i>Is</i> it foolish for me to learn to climb?" asked Phonny. In +order to see Beechnut while he asked this question, Phonny had to +twist his head round in a very unusual position, and look out under +his arm. It was obvious that in doing this he was in imminent danger +of falling, so unstable was the equilibrium in which he was poised +upon the rail.</p> + +<p>"Is not he foolish?" asked Malleville.</p> + +<p>Beechnut looked at him a moment, and then said, as he resumed his walk +through the entry,</p> + +<p>"Not very;—that is for a boy. I have known boys sometimes to do +foolisher things than that."</p> + +<p>"What did they do?" asked Phonny.</p> + +<p>"Why once," said Beechnut, "I knew a boy who put his nose into the +crack of the door, and then took hold of the latch and pulled the +door to, and pinched his nose to death. That was a <i>little</i> more +foolish, though not much."</p> + +<p>So saying Beechnut passed through the door and disappeared.</p> + +<p>Phonny was seized with so violent a convulsion of laughter at the idea +of such absurd folly as Beechnut had described, that he tumbled off +the bannisters, but fortunately he fell <i>in</i>, towards the stairs, +and was very little hurt. He came down the stairs to Malleville, and +as Beechnut returned in a few minutes with the whip, they all went out +towards the barn together.</p> + +<p>Beechnut had already put the bags of grain into the wagon behind, +and now he assisted Phonny and Malleville to get in. He gave them the +whole of the seat, in order that they might have plenty of room, and +also that they might be high up, where they could see. He had a small +bench which was made to fit in, in front, and which he was accustomed +to use for himself, as a sort of driver's seat, whenever the wagon was +full. He placed this bench in its place in front, and taking his seat +upon it, he drove away.</p> + +<p>When the party had thus fairly set out, and Phonny and Malleville had +in some measure finished uttering the multitude of exclamations of +delight with which they usually commenced a ride, they began to wish +that Beechnut would tell them a story. Now Beechnut was a boy of +boundless fertility of imagination, and he was almost always ready to +tell a story. His stories were usually invented on the spot, and were +often extremely wild and extravagant, both in the incidents involved +in them, and in the personages whom he introduced as actors. The +extravagance of these tales was however usually no objection to them +in Phonny's and Malleville's estimation. In fact Beechnut observed +that the more extravagant his stories were, the better pleased his +auditors generally appeared to be in listening to them. He therefore +did not spare invention, or restrict himself by any rules either of +truth or probability in his narratives. Nor did he usually require any +time for preparation, but commenced at once with whatever came into +his head, pronouncing the first sentence of his story, very often +without any idea of what he was to say next.</p> + +<p>On this occasion Beechnut began as follows:</p> + +<p>"Once there was a girl about three years old, and she had a large +black cat. The cat was of a jet black color, and her fur was very soft +and glossy. It was as soft as silk.</p> + +<p>"This cat was very mischievous and very sly. She was <i>very</i> sly: +very indeed. In fact she used to go about the house so very slyly, +getting into all sorts of mischief which the people could never find +out till afterwards, that they gave her the name of Sligo. Some people +said that the reason why she had that name was because she came from +a place called Sligo, in Ireland. But that was not the reason. It was +veritably and truly because she was so sly."</p> + +<p>Beechnut pronounced this decision in respect to the etymological +import of the pussy's name in the most grave and serious manner, and +Malleville and Phonny listened with profound attention.</p> + +<p>"What was the girl's name?" asked Malleville.</p> + +<p>"The girl's?" repeated Beechnut. "Oh, her name was—Arabella."</p> + +<p>"Well, go on," said Malleville.</p> + +<p>"One day," continued Beechnut, "Sligo was walking about the house, +trying to find something to do. She came into the parlor. There was +nobody there. She looked about a little, and presently she saw a +work-basket upon the corner of a table, where Arabella's mother had +been at work. Sligo began to look at the basket, thinking that it +would make a good nest for her to sleep in, if she could only get it +under the clock. The clock stood in a corner of the room.</p> + +<p>"Sligo accordingly jumped up into a chair, and from the chair to the +table, and then pushing the basket along nearer and nearer to the edge +of the table, she at last made it fall over, and all the sewing and +knitting work, and the balls, and needles, and spools, fell out upon +the floor. Sligo then jumped down and pushed the basket along toward +the clock. She finally got it under the clock, crept into it, curled +herself round into the form of a semicircle inside, so as just to fill +the basket, and went to sleep.</p> + +<p>"Presently Arabella came in, and seeing the spools and balls upon +the floor, began to play with them. In a few minutes more, Arabella's +mother came in, and when she saw Arabella playing with these things +upon the floor, she supposed that Arabella herself was the rogue that +had thrown the basket off the table. Arabella could not talk much. +When her mother accused her of doing this mischief, she could only say +"No;" "no;" but her mother did not believe her. So she made her go and +stand up in the corner of the room, for punishment, while Sligo peeped +out from under the clock to see."</p> + +<p>"But you said that Sligo was asleep," said Phonny.</p> + +<p>"Yes, she went to sleep," replied Beechnut, "but she waked up when +Arabella's mother came into the room."</p> + +<p>Beechnut here paused a moment to consider what he should say next, +when suddenly he began to point forward to a little distance before +them in the road, where a boy was to be seen at the side of the road, +sitting upon a stone.</p> + +<p>"I verily believe it is Jemmy," said he.</p> + +<p>As the wagon approached the place where Jemmy was sitting, they +found that he was bending down over his foot, and moaning with, pain. +Beechnut asked him what was the matter. He said that he had sprained +his foot dreadfully. Beechnut stopped the horse, and giving the +reins to Phonny, he got out to see. Phonny immediately gave them to +Malleville, and followed.</p> + +<p>"Are you much hurt?" asked Beechnut.</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes," said Jemmy, moaning and groaning; "oh dear me!"</p> + +<p>Beechnut then went back to the horse, and taking him by the bridle, +he led him a little way out of the road, toward a small tree, where +he thought he would stand, and then taking Malleville out, so that +she might not be in any danger if the horse should chance to start, he +went back to Jemmy.</p> + +<p>"You see," said Jemmy, "I was going to mill, and I was riding along +here, and the horse pranced about and threw me off and sprained my +foot. Oh dear me! what shall I do?"</p> + +<p>"Where is the horse?" asked Beechnut.</p> + +<p>"There he is," said Jemmy, "somewhere out there. He has gone along the +road. And the bags have fallen off too. Oh dear me!"</p> + +<p>Phonny ran out into the road, and looked forward. He could see the +horse standing by the side of the road at some distance, quietly +eating the grass. A little this side of the place where the horse +stood, the bags were lying upon the ground, not very far from each +other.</p> + +<p>The story which Jemmy told was not strictly true. He was one of the +boys of the village, and was of a wild and reckless character. This +was, however, partly his father's fault, who never gave him any kind +and friendly instruction, and always treated him with a great degree +of sternness and severity.</p> + +<p>A circus company had visited Franconia a few weeks before the time of +this accident, and Jemmy had peeped through the cracks of the fence +that formed their enclosure, and had seen the performers ride around +the ring, standing upon the backs of the horses. He was immediately +inspired with the ambition to imitate this feat, and the next time +that he mounted his father's horse, he made the attempt to perform it. +His father, when he found it out, was very angry with him, and sternly +forbade him ever to do such a thing again. He declared positively that +if he did, he would whip him to death, as he said. Jemmy was silent, +but he secretly resolved that he would ride standing again, the very +first opportunity.</p> + +<p>Accordingly, when his father put the two bags of grain upon the horse, +and ordered Jemmy to go to mill with them, Jemmy thought that the +opportunity had come. He had observed that the circus riders, instead +of a saddle, used upon the backs of their horses a sort of flat pad, +which afforded a much more convenient footing than any saddle; and as +to standing on the naked back of a horse, it was manifestly impossible +for any body but a rope-dancer. When, however, Jemmy saw his father +placing the bags of grain upon the horse, he perceived at once that a +good broad and level surface was produced by them, which was much +more extended and level, even than the pads of the circus-riders. He +instantly resolved, that the moment that he got completely away from +the village, he would mount upon the bags and ride standing—and ride +so, too, just as long as he pleased.</p> + +<p>Accordingly, as soon as he had passed the house where Phonny lived, +which was the last house in that direction for some distance, he +looked round in order to be sure that his father was not by any +accident behind him, and then climbing up first upon his knees, and +afterward upon his feet, he drew up the reins cautiously, and then +chirruped to the horse to go on. The horse began to move slowly along. +Jemmy was surprised and delighted to find how firm his footing was +on the broad surface of the bags. Growing more and more bold and +confident as he became accustomed to his situation, he began presently +to dance about, or rather to perform certain awkward antics, which +he considered dancing, looking round continually, with a mingled +expression of guilt, pleasure, and fear, in his countenance, in order +to be sure that his father was not coming. Finally, he undertook to +make his horse trot a little. The horse, however, by this time, +began to grow somewhat impatient at the unusual sensations which +he experienced—the weight of the rider being concentrated upon one +single point, directly on his back, and resting very unsteadily +and interruptedly there,—and the bridle-reins passing up almost +perpendicularly into the air, instead of declining backwards, as they +ought to do in any proper position of the horseman. He began to trot +forward faster and faster. Jemmy soon found that it would be prudent +to restrain him, but in his upright position, he had no control +over the horse by pulling the reins. He only pulled the horse's head +upwards, and made him more uneasy and impatient than before. He then +attempted to get down into a sitting posture again, but in doing +so, he fell off upon the hard road and sprained his ankle. The horse +trotted rapidly on, until the bags fell off, first one and then the +other. Finding himself thus wholly at liberty, he stopped and began +to eat the grass at the road-side, wholly unconcerned at the mischief +that had been done.</p> + +<p>Jemmy's distress was owing much more to his alarm and his sense of +guilt, than to the actual pain of the injury which he had suffered. He +was, however, entirely disabled by the sprain.</p> + +<p>"It is rather a hard case," said Beechnut, "no doubt, but never mind +it, Jemmy. A man may break his leg, and yet live to dance many a +hornpipe afterwards. You'll get over all this and laugh about it one +day. Come, I'll carry you home in my wagon."</p> + +<p>"But I am afraid to go home," said Jemmy.</p> + +<p>"What are you afraid of?" asked Beechnut.</p> + +<p>"Of my father," said Jemmy.</p> + +<p>"Oh no," said Beechnut. "The horse is not hurt, and as for the grist +I'll carry it to mill with mine. So there is no harm done. Come, let +me put you into the wagon."</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Phonny, "and I will go and catch the horse."</p> + +<p>While Beechnut was putting Jemmy into the wagon, Phonny ran along the +road toward the horse. The horse, hearing footsteps, and supposing +from the sound that somebody might be coming to catch him, was at +first disposed to set off and gallop away; but looking round and +seeing that it was nobody but Phonny he went on eating as before. +When Phonny got pretty near to the horse, he began to walk up slowly +towards him, putting out his hand as if to take hold of the bridle and +saying, "Whoa—Dobbin,—whoa." The horse raised his head a little +from the grass, shook it very expressively at Phonny, walked on a few +steps, and then began to feed upon the grass as before. He seemed +to know precisely how much resistance was necessary to avoid the +recapture with which he was threatened.</p> + +<p>"Whoa Jack! whoa!" said Phonny, advancing again. The horse, however, +moved on, shaking his head as before. He seemed to be no more disposed +to recognize the name of Jack than Dobbin.</p> + +<p>"Jemmy," said Phonny, turning back and calling out aloud, "Jemmy! +what's his name?"</p> + +<p>Jemmy did not answer. He was fully occupied in getting into the wagon.</p> + +<p class="pic-centre"> +<a name="pic02" id="pic02" /> +<img src="images/pic0002.jpg" width="500" height="469" alt="An engraving of Beechnut catching the horse." title="Catching the horse." /> +</p> + +<p>Beechnut called Phonny back and asked him to hold his horse, while he +went to catch Jemmy's. He did it by opening one of the bags and taking +out a little grain, and by means of it enticing the stray horse near +enough to enable him to take hold of the bridle. He then fastened him +behind the wagon, and putting Jemmy's two bags in, he turned round and +went back to carry Jemmy home, leaving Malleville and Phonny to walk +the rest of the way to Mary Erskine's. Besides their ride, they lost +the remainder of the story of Sligo, if that can be said to be lost +which never existed. For at the time when Beechnut paused in his +narration, he had told the story as far as he had invented it. He had +not thought of another word.</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3><a name="CHAPTER_II" id="CHAPTER_II" />CHAPTER II.<br /><br />THE BRIDE.</h3> + + +<p>Mary Erskine was an orphan. Her mother died when she was about twelve +years old. Her father had died long before, and after her father's +death her mother was very poor, and lived in so secluded and solitary +a place, that Mary had no opportunity then to go to school. She +began to work too as soon as she was able to do any thing, and it was +necessary from that day forward for her to work all the time; and this +would have prevented her from going to school, if there had been one +near. Thus when her mother died, although she was an intelligent and +very sensible girl, she could neither read nor write a word. She told +Mrs. Bell the day that she went to live with her, that she did not +even know any of the letters, except the round one and the crooked +one. The round one she said she <i>always</i> knew, and as for S she +learned that, because it stood for Erskine. This shows how little she +knew about spelling.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Bell wanted Mary Erskine to help her in taking care of her own +daughter Mary, who was then an infant. As both the girls were named +Mary, the people of the family and the neighbors gradually fell +into the habit of calling each of them by her full name, in order to +distinguish them from each other. Thus the baby was never called Mary, +but always Mary Bell, and the little nursery maid was always known as +Mary Erskine.</p> + +<p>Mary Erskine became a great favorite at Mrs. Bell's. She was of a +very light-hearted and joyous disposition, always contented and happy, +singing like a nightingale at her work all the day long, when she +was alone, and cheering and enlivening all around her by her buoyant +spirits when she was in company. When Mary Bell became old enough to +run about and play, Mary Erskine became her playmate and companion, +as well as her protector. There was no distinction of rank to separate +them. If Mary Bell had been as old as Mary Erskine and had had a +younger sister, her duties in the household would have been exactly +the same as Mary Erskine's were. In fact, Mary Erskine's position was +altogether that of an older sister, and strangers visiting, the family +would have supposed that the two girls were really sisters, had they +not both been named Mary.</p> + +<p>Mary Erskine was about twelve years older than Mary Bell, so that when +Mary Bell began to go to school, which was when she was about five +years old, Mary Erskine was about seventeen. Mrs. Bell had proposed, +when Mary Erskine first came to her house, that she would go to school +and learn to read and write; but Mary had been very much disinclined +to do so. In connection with the amiableness and gentleness of her +character and her natural good sense, she had a great deal of pride +and independence of spirit; and she was very unwilling to go to +school—being, as she was, almost in her teens—and begin there to +learn her letters with the little children. Mrs. Bell ought to have +required her to go, notwithstanding her reluctance, or else to have +made some other proper arrangement for teaching her to read and write. +Mrs. Bell was aware of this in fact, and frequently resolved that she +would do so. But she postponed the performance of her resolution from +month to month and year to year, and finally it was not performed at +all. Mary Erskine was so very useful at home, that a convenient time +for sparing her never came. And then besides she was so kind, and so +tractable, and so intent upon complying with all Mrs. Bell's wishes, +in every respect, that Mrs. Bell was extremely averse to require any +thing of her, which would mortify her, or give her pain.</p> + +<p>When Mary Erskine was about eighteen years old, she was walking home +one evening from the village, where she had been to do some shopping +for Mrs. Bell, and as she came to a solitary part of the road after +having left the last house which belonged to the village, she saw a +young man coming out of the woods at a little distance before her. She +recognized him, immediately, as a young man whom she called Albert, +who had often been employed by Mrs. Bell, at work about the farm and +garden. Albert was a very sedate and industrious young man, of frank +and open and manly countenance, and of an erect and athletic form. +Mary Erskine liked Albert very well, and yet the first impulse was, +when she saw him coming, to cross over to the other side of the road, +and thus pass him at a little distance. She did in fact take one or +two steps in that direction, but thinking almost immediately that it +would be foolish to do so, she returned to the same side of the road +and walked on. Albert walked slowly along towards Mary Erskine, until +at length they met.</p> + +<p>"Good evening, Mary Erskine," said Albert.</p> + +<p>"Good evening, Albert," said Mary Erskine.</p> + +<p>Albert turned and began to walk along slowly, by Mary Erskine's side.</p> + +<p>"I have been waiting here for you more than two hours," said Albert.</p> + +<p>"Have you?" said Mary Erskine. Her heart began to beat, and she was +afraid to say any thing more, for fear that her voice would tremble,</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Albert. "I saw you go to the village, and I wanted to +speak to you when you came back."</p> + +<p>Mary Erskine walked along, but did not speak.</p> + +<p>"And I have been waiting and watching two months for you to go to the +village," continued Albert.</p> + +<p>"I have not been much to the village, lately," said Mary.</p> + +<p>Here there was a pause of a few minutes, when Albert said again,</p> + +<p>"Have you any objection to my walking along with you here a little +way, Mary?"</p> + +<p>"No," said Mary, "not at all."</p> + +<p>"Mary," said Albert, after another short pause, "I have got a hundred +dollars and my axe,—and this right arm. I am thinking of buying a +lot of land, about a mile beyond Kater's corner. If I will do it, and +build a small house of one room there, will you come and be my wife? +It will have to be a <i>log</i> house at first."</p> + +<p>Mary Erskine related subsequently to Mary Bell what took place at this +interview, thus far, but she would never tell the rest.</p> + +<p>It was evident, however, that Mary Erskine was inclined to accept this +proposal, from a conversation which took place between her and Mrs. +Bell the next evening. It was after tea. The sun had gone down, +and the evening was beautiful. Mrs. Bell was sitting in a low +rocking-chair, on a little covered platform, near the door, which they +called the stoop. There were two seats, one on each side of the stoop, +and there was a vine climbing over it. Mrs. Bell was knitting. Mary +Bell, who was then about six years old, was playing about the yard, +watching the butterflies, and gathering flowers.</p> + +<p>"You may stay here and play a little while," said Mary Erskine to Mary +Bell. "I am going to talk with your mother a little; but I shall be +back again pretty soon."</p> + +<p>Mary Erskine accordingly went to the stoop where Mrs. Bell was +sitting, and took a seat upon the bench at the side of Mrs. Bell, +though rather behind than before her. There was a railing along +behind the seat, at the edge of the stoop and a large white rose-bush, +covered with roses, upon the other side.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Bell perceived from Mary Erskine's air and manner that she +had something to say to her, so after remarking that it was a very +pleasant evening, she went on knitting, waiting for Mary Erskine to +begin.</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Bell," said Mary.</p> + +<p>"Well," said Mrs. Bell.</p> + +<p>The trouble was that Mary Erskine did not know exactly <i>how</i> to +begin.</p> + +<p>She paused a moment longer and then making a great effort she said,</p> + +<p>"Albert wants me to go and live with him."</p> + +<p>"Does he?" said Mrs. Bell. "And where does he want you to go and +live?"</p> + +<p>"He is thinking of buying a farm," said Mary Erskine.</p> + +<p>"Where?" said Mrs. Bell.</p> + +<p>"I believe the land is about a mile from Kater's corner."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Bell was silent for a few minutes. She was pondering the thought +now for the first time fairly before her mind, that the little +helpless orphan child that she had taken under her care so many years +ago, had really grown to be a woman, and must soon, if not then, begin +to form her own independent plans of life. She looked at little Mary +Bell too, playing upon the grass, and wondered what she would do when +Mary Erskine was gone.</p> + +<p>After a short pause spent in reflections like these, Mrs. Bell resumed +the conversation by saying,</p> + +<p>"Well, Mary,—and what do you think of the plan?"</p> + +<p>"Why—I don't know," said Mary Erskine, timidly and doubtfully.</p> + +<p>"You are very young," said Mrs. Bell.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Mary Erskine, "I always was very young. I was very young +when my father died; and afterwards, when my mother died, I was very +young to be left all alone, and to go out to work and earn my living. +And now I am very young, I know. But then I am eighteen."</p> + +<p>"Are you eighteen?" asked Mrs. Bell.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Mary Erskine, "I was eighteen the day before yesterday."</p> + +<p>"It is a lonesome place,—out beyond Kater's Corner," said Mrs. Bell, +after another pause.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Mary Erskine, "but I am not afraid of lonesomeness. I +never cared about seeing a great many people."</p> + +<p>"And you will have to work very hard," continued Mrs. Bell.</p> + +<p>"I know that," replied Mary; "but then I am not afraid of work any +more than I am of lonesomeness. I began to work when I was five years +old, and I have worked ever since,—and I like it."</p> + +<p>"Then, besides," said Mrs. Bell, "I don't know what I shall do with +<i>my</i> Mary when you have gone away. You have had the care of her +ever since she was born."</p> + +<p>Mary Erskine did not reply to this. She turned her head away farther +and farther from Mrs. Bell, looking over the railing of the stoop +toward the white roses. In a minute or two she got up suddenly from +her seat, and still keeping her face averted from Mrs. Bell, she went +in by the stoop door into the house, and disappeared. In about ten +minutes she came round the corner of the house, at the place where +Mary Bell was playing, and with a radiant and happy face, and tones +as joyous as ever, she told her little charge that they would have one +game of hide and go seek, in the asparagus, and that then it would be +time for her to go to bed.</p> + +<p>Two days after this, Albert closed the bargain for his land, and began +his work upon it. The farm, or rather the lot, for the farm was yet +to be made, consisted of a hundred and sixty acres of land, all in +forest. A great deal of the land was mountainous and rocky, fit only +for woodland and pasturage. There were, however, a great many fertile +vales and dells, and at one place along the bank of a stream, there +was a broad tract which Albert thought would make, when the trees +were felled and it was brought into grass, a "beautiful piece of +intervale."</p> + +<p>Albert commenced his operations by felling several acres of trees, on +a part of his lot which was nearest the corner. A road, which had been +laid out through the woods, led across his land near this place. The +trees and bushes had been cut away so as to open a space wide enough +for a sled road in winter. In summer there was nothing but a wild +path, winding among rocks, stumps, trunks of fallen trees, and other +forest obstructions. A person on foot could get along very well, and +even a horse with a rider upon his back, but there was no chance for +any thing on wheels. Albert said that it would not be possible to get +even a wheelbarrow in.</p> + +<p>Albert, however, took great pleasure in going back and forth over this +road, morning and evening, with his axe upon his shoulder, and a pack +upon his back containing his dinner, while felling his trees. When +they were all down, he left them for some weeks drying in the sun, and +then set them on fire. He chose for the burning, the afternoon of a +hot and sultry day, when a fresh breeze was blowing from the west, +which he knew would fan the flames and increase the conflagration. It +was important to do this, as the amount of subsequent labor which he +would have to perform, would depend upon how completely the trees were +consumed. His fire succeeded beyond his most sanguine expectations, +and the next day he brought Mary Erskine in to see what a "splendid +burn" he had had, and to choose a spot for the log house which he was +going to build for her.</p> + +<p>Mary Erskine was extremely pleased with the appearance of Albert's +clearing. The area which had been opened ascended a little from the +road, and presented a gently undulating surface, which Mary Erskine +thought would make very beautiful fields. It was now, however, one +vast expanse of blackened and smoking ruins.</p> + +<p>Albert conducted Mary Erskine and Mary Bell—for Mary Bell had come in +with them to see the fire,—to a little eminence from which they could +survey the whole scene.</p> + +<p>"Look," said he, "is not that beautiful? Did you ever see a better +burn?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know much about burns," said Mary Erskine, "but I can see +that it will be a beautiful place for a farm. Why we can see the +pond," she added, pointing toward the south.</p> + +<p>This was true. The falling of the trees had opened up a fine view of +the pond, which was distant about a mile from the clearing. There +was a broad stream which flowed swiftly over a gravelly bed along the +lower part of the ground, and a wild brook which came tumbling down +from the mountains, and then, after running across the road, fell into +the larger stream, not far from the corner of the farm. The brook and +the stream formed two sides of the clearing. Beyond them, and along +the other two sides of the clearing, the tall trees of those parts of +the forest which had not been disturbed, rose like a wall and hemmed +the opening closely in.</p> + +<p>Albert and Mary Erskine walked along the road through the whole length +of the clearing, looking out for the best place to build their house.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps it will be lonesome here this winter, Mary," said Albert. "I +don't know but that you would rather wait till next spring."</p> + +<p>Mary Erskine hesitated about her reply. She did, in fact, wish to +come to her new home that fall, and she thought it was proper that +she should express the cordial interest which she felt in Albert's +plans;—but, then, on the other hand, she did not like to say any +thing which might seem to indicate a wish on her part to hasten the +time of their marriage. So she said doubtfully,—"I don't know;—I +don't think that it would be lonesome."</p> + +<p>"What do you mean, Albert," said Mary Bell, "about Mary Erskine's +coming to live here? She can't come and live here, among all these +black stumps and logs."</p> + +<p>Albert and Mary Erskine were too intent upon their own thoughts and +plans to pay any attention to Mary Bell's questions. So they walked +along without answering her.</p> + +<p>"What could we have to <i>do</i> this fall and winter?" asked Mary +Erskine. She wished to ascertain whether she could do any good by +coming at once, or whether it would be better, for Albert's plans, to +wait until the spring.</p> + +<p>"Oh there will be plenty to do," said Albert. "I shall have to work a +great deal, while the ground continues open, in clearing up the land, +and getting it ready for sowing in the spring; and it will be a great +deal better for me to live here, in order to save my traveling back +and forth, so far, every night and morning. Then this winter I shall +have my tools to make,—and to finish the inside of the house, and +make the furniture; and if you have any leisure time you can spin. +But after all it will not be very comfortable for you, and perhaps you +would rather wait until spring."</p> + +<p>"No," said Mary Erskine. "I would rather come this fall."</p> + +<p>"Well," rejoined Albert, speaking in a tone of great satisfaction. +"Then I will get the house up next week, and we will be married very +soon after."</p> + +<p>There were very few young men whose prospects in commencing life were +so fair and favorable as those of Albert. In the first place, he was +not obliged to incur any debt on account of his land, as most young +farmers necessarily do. His land was one dollar an acre. He had one +hundred dollars of his own, and enough besides to buy a winter stock +of provisions for his house. He had expected to have gone in debt for +the sixty dollars, the whole price of the land being one hundred and +sixty; but to his great surprise and pleasure Mary Erskine told him, +as they were coming home from seeing the land after the burn, that she +had seventy-five dollars of her own, besides interest; and that she +should like to have sixty dollars of that sum go toward paying for +the land. The fifteen dollars that would be left, she said, would be +enough to buy the furniture.</p> + +<p>"I don't think that will be quite enough," said Albert.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Mary Erskine. "We shall not want a great deal. We shall +want a table and two chairs, and some things to cook with."</p> + +<p>"And a bed," said Albert.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Mary Erskine, "but I can make that myself. The cloth will +not cost much, and you can get some straw for me. Next summer we can +keep some geese, and so have a feather bed some day."</p> + +<p>"We shall want some knives and forks, and plates," said Albert.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Mary Erskine, "but they will not cost much. I think +fifteen dollars will get us all we need. Besides there is more than +fifteen dollars, for there is the interest."</p> + +<p>The money had been put out at interest in the village.</p> + +<p>"Well," said Albert, "and I can make the rest of the furniture that +we shall need, this winter. I shall have a shop near the house. I have +got the tools already."</p> + +<p>Thus all was arranged. Albert built his house on the spot which Mary +Erskine thought would be the most pleasant for it, the week after her +visit to the land. Three young men from the neighborhood assisted him, +as is usual in such cases, on the understanding that Albert was to +help each of them as many days about their work as they worked +for him. This plan is often adopted by farmers in doing work which +absolutely requires several men at a time, as for example, the raising +of heavy logs one upon another to form the walls of a house. In order +to obtain logs for the building Albert and his helpers cut down fresh +trees from the forest, as the blackened and half-burned trunks, which +lay about his clearing, were of course unsuitable for such a work. +They selected the tallest and straightest trees, and after felling +them and cutting them to the proper length, they hauled them to +the spot by means of oxen. The ground served for a floor, and the +fire-place was made of stones. The roof was formed of sheets of +hemlock bark, laid, like slates upon rafters made of the stems of +slender trees. Albert promised Mary Erskine that, as soon as the snow +came, in the winter, to make a road, so that he could get through the +woods with a load of boards upon a sled, he would make her a floor.</p> + +<p>From this time forward, although Mary Erskine was more diligent and +faithful than ever in performing all her duties at Mrs. Bell's, her +imagination was incessantly occupied with pictures and images of the +new scenes into which she was about to be ushered as the mistress of +her own independent household and home. She made out lists, mentally, +for she could not write, of the articles which it would be best to +purchase. She formed and matured in her own mind all her house-keeping +plans. She pictured to herself the scene which the interior of her +dwelling would present in cold and stormy winter evenings, while she +was knitting at one side of the fire, and Albert was busy at some +ingenious workmanship, on the other; or thought of the beautiful +prospect which she should enjoy in the spring and summer following; +when fields of waving grain, rich with promises of plenty and of +wealth, would extend in every direction around her dwelling. She +cherished, in a word, the brightest anticipations of happiness.</p> + +<p class="pic-centre"> +<a name="pic03" id="pic03" /> +<img src="images/pic0003.jpg" width="500" height="469" alt="An engraving of the log house." title="The Log House." /> +</p> + +<p>The house at length was finished. The necessary furniture which Albert +contrived in some way to get moved to it, was put in; and early in +August Mary Erskine was married. She was married in the morning, and a +party of the villagers escorted her on horseback to her new home.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3><a name="CHAPTER_III" id="CHAPTER_III" />CHAPTER III.<br /> <br />MARY ERSKINE'S VISITORS.</h3> + + +<p>Mary Erskine's anticipations of happiness in being the mistress of her +own independent home were very high, but they were more than realized.</p> + +<p>The place which had been chosen for the house was not only a suitable +one in respect to convenience, but it was a very pleasant one. It was +near the brook which, as has already been said, came cascading down +from among the forests and mountains, and passing along near one side +of Albert's clearing, flowed across the road, and finally emptied into +the great stream. The house was placed near the brook, in order that +Albert might have a watering-place at hand for his horses and cattle +when he should have stocked his farm. In felling the forest Albert +left a fringe of trees along the banks of the brook, that it might be +cool and shady there when the cattle went down to drink. There was a +spring of pure cold water boiling up from beneath some rocks not far +from the brook, on the side toward the clearing. The water from this +spring flowed down along a little mossy dell, until it reached the +brook. The bed over which this little rivulet flowed was stony, and +yet no stones were to be seen. They all had the appearance of rounded +tufts of soft green moss, so completely were they all covered and +hidden by the beautiful verdure.</p> + +<p>Albert was very much pleased when he discovered this spring, and +traced its little mossy rivulet down to the brook. He thought that +Mary Erskine would like it. So he avoided cutting down any of the +trees from the dell, or from around the spring, and in cutting down +those which grew near it, he took care to make them fall away from +the dell, so that in burning they should not injure the trees which he +wished to save. Thus that part of the wood which shaded and sheltered +the spring and the dell, escaped the fire.</p> + +<p>The house was placed in such a position that this spring was directly +behind it, and Albert made a smooth and pretty path leading down to +it; or rather he made the path smooth, and nature made it pretty. For +no sooner had he completed his work upon it than nature began to adorn +it by a profusion of the richest and greenest grass and flowers, +which she caused to spring up on either side. It was so in fact in all +Albert's operations upon his farm. Almost every thing that he did was +for some purpose of convenience and utility, and he himself undertook +nothing more than was necessary to secure the useful end. But his kind +and playful co-operator, nature, would always take up the work +where he left it, and begin at once to beautify it with her rich and +luxuriant verdure. For example, as soon as the fires went out over the +clearing, she began, with her sun and rain, to blanch the blackened +stumps, and to gnaw at their foundations with her tooth of decay. If +Albert made a road or a path she rounded its angles, softened away all +the roughness that his plow or hoe had left in it, and fringed it with +grass and flowers. The solitary and slender trees which had been left +standing here and there around the clearing, having escaped the fire, +she took under her special care—throwing out new and thrifty branches +from them, in every direction, and thus giving them massive and +luxuriant forms, to beautify the landscape, and to form shady retreats +for the flocks and herds which might in subsequent years graze upon +the ground. Thus while Albert devoted himself to the substantial and +useful improvements which were required upon his farm, with a view +simply to profit, nature took the work of ornamenting it under her own +special and particular charge.</p> + +<p>The sphere of Mary Erskine's duties and pleasures was within doors. +Her conveniences for house-keeping were somewhat limited at first, but +Albert, who kept himself busy at work on his land all day, spent the +evenings in his shanty shop, making various household implements and +articles of furniture for her. Mary sat with him, usually, at such +times, knitting by the side of the great, blazing fire, made partly +for the sake of the light that it afforded, and partly for the warmth, +which was required to temper the coolness of the autumnal evenings. +Mary took a very special interest in the progress of Albert's work, +every thing which he made being for her. Each new acquisition, as one +article after another was completed and delivered into her possession, +gave her fresh pleasure: and she deposited it in its proper place in +her house with a feeling of great satisfaction and pride.</p> + +<p>"Mary Erskine," said Albert one evening—for though she was married, +and her name thus really changed, Albert himself, as well as every +body else, went on calling her Mary Erskine just as before—"it +is rather hard to make you wait so long for these conveniences, +especially as there is no necessity for it. We need not have paid for +our land this three years. I might have taken the money and built a +handsome house, and furnished it for you at once."</p> + +<p>"And so have been in debt for the land," said Mary.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Albert. "I could have paid off that debt by the profits of +the farming. I can lay up a hundred dollars a year, certainly."</p> + +<p>"No," said Mary Erskine. "I like this plan the best. We will pay as +we go along. It will be a great deal better to have the three hundred +dollars for something else than to pay old debts with. We will build a +better house than this if we want one, one of these years, when we get +the money. But I like this house very much as it is. Perhaps, however, +it is only because it is my own."</p> + +<p>It was not altogether the idea that it was her own that made Mary +Erskine like her house. The interior of it was very pleasant indeed, +especially after Albert had completed the furnishing of it, and had +laid the floor. It contained but one room, it is true, but that was a +very spacious one. There were, in fact, two apartments enclosed by the +walls and the roof, though only one of them could strictly be called +a room. The other was rather a shed, or stoop, and it was entered from +the front by a wide opening, like a great shed door. The entrance to +the house proper was by a door opening from this stoop, so as to be +sheltered from the storms in winter. There was a very large fire place +made of stones in the middle of one side of the room, with a large +flat stone for a hearth in front of it. This hearth stone was very +smooth, and Mary Erskine kept it always very bright and clean. On +one side of the fire was what they called a settle, which was a long +wooden seat with a very high back. It was placed on the side of the +fire toward the door, so that it answered the purpose of a screen to +keep off any cold currents of air, which might come in on blustering +winter nights, around the door. On the other side of the fire was a +small and very elegant mahogany work table. This was a present to +Mary Erskine from Mrs. Bell on the day of her marriage. There were +drawers in this table containing sundry conveniences. The upper drawer +was made to answer the purpose of a desk, and it had an inkstand in +a small division in one corner. Mrs. Bell had thought of taking this +inkstand out, and putting in some spools, or something else which Mary +Erskine would be able to use. But Mary herself would not allow her to +make such a change. She said it was true that she could not write, but +that was no reason why she should not have an inkstand. So she filled +the inkstand with ink, and furnished the desk completely in other +respects, by putting in six sheets of paper, a pen, and several +wafers. The truth was, she thought it possible that an occasion +might arise some time or other, at which Albert might wish to write +a letter; and if such a case should occur, it would give her great +pleasure to have him write his letter at her desk.</p> + +<p>Beyond the work table, on one of the sides of the room, was a +cupboard, and next to the cupboard a large window. This was the only +window in the house, and it had a sash which would rise and fall. Mary +Erskine had made white curtains for this window, which could be parted +in the middle, and hung up upon nails driven into the logs which +formed the wall of the house, one on each side. Of what use these +curtains could be except to make the room look more snug and pleasant +within, it would be difficult to say; for there was only one vast +expanse of forests and mountains on that side of the house, so that +there was nobody to look in.</p> + +<p>On the back side of the room, in one corner, was the bed. It was +supported upon a bedstead which Albert had made. The bedstead had high +posts, and was covered, like the window, with curtains. In the other +corner was the place for the loom, with the spinning-wheel between the +loom and the bed. When Mary Erskine was using the spinning-wheel, +she brought it out into the center of the room. The loom was not yet +finished. Albert was building it, working upon it from time to time as +he had opportunity. The frame of it was up, and some of the machinery +was made.</p> + +<p>Mary Erskine kept most of her clothes in a trunk; but Albert was +making her a bureau.</p> + +<p>Instead of finding it lonesome at her new home, as Mrs. Bell had +predicted, Mary Erskine had plenty of company. The girls from the +village, whom she used to know, were very fond of coming out to see +her. Many of them were much younger than she was, and they loved to +ramble about in the woods around Mary Erskine's house, and to play +along the bank of the brook. Mary used to show them too, every time +they came, the new articles which Albert had made for her, and to +explain to them the gradual progress of the improvements. Mary Bell +herself was very fond of going to see Mary Erskine,—though she was of +course at that time too young to go alone. Sometimes however Mrs. Bell +would send her out in the morning and let her remain all day, playing, +very happily, around the door and down by the spring. She used to play +all day among the logs and stumps, and upon the sandy beach by the +side of the brook, and yet when she went home at night she always +looked as nice, and her clothes were as neat and as clean as when she +went in the morning. Mrs. Bell wondered at this, and on observing that +it continued to be so, repeatedly, after several visits, she asked +Mary Bell how it happened that Mary Erskine kept her so nice.</p> + +<p>"Oh," said Mary Bell, "I always put on my working frock when I go out +to Mary Erskine's."</p> + +<p>The working frock was a plain, loose woolen dress, which Mary Erskine +made for Mary Bell, and which Mary Bell, always put on in the morning, +whenever she came to the farm. Her own dress was taken off and +laid carefully away upon the bed, under the curtains. Her shoes and +stockings were taken off too, so that she might play in the brook if +she pleased, though Mary Erskine told her it was not best to remain in +the water long enough to have her feet get very cold.</p> + +<p>When Mary Bell was dressed thus in her working frock, she was allowed +to play wherever she pleased, so that she enjoyed almost an absolute +and unbounded liberty. And yet there were some restrictions. She +must not go across the brook, for fear that she might get lost in the +woods, nor go out of sight of the house in any direction. She might +build fires upon any of the stumps or logs, but not within certain +limits of distance from the house, lest she should set the house on +fire. And she must not touch the axe, for fear that she might cut +herself, nor climb upon the wood-pile, for fear that it might fall +down upon her. With some such restrictions as these, she could do +whatever she pleased.</p> + +<p>She was very much delighted, one morning in September, when she was +playing around the house in her working frock, at finding a great hole +or hollow under a stump, which she immediately resolved to have for +her oven. She was sitting down upon the ground by the side of it, and +she began to call out as loud as she could,</p> + +<p>"Mary Erskine! Mary Erskine!"</p> + +<p>But Mary Erskine did not answer. Mary Bell could hear the sound of the +spinning-wheel in the house, and she wondered why the spinner could +not hear her, when she called so loud.</p> + +<p>She listened, watching for the pauses in the buzzing sound of the +wheel, and endeavored to call out in the pauses,—but with no better +success than before. At last she got up and walked along toward the +house, swinging in her hand a small wooden shovel, which Albert had +made for her to dig wells with in the sand on the margin of the brook.</p> + +<p>"Mary Erskine!" said she, when she got to the door of the house, +"didn't you hear me calling for you?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Mary Erskine.</p> + +<p>"Then why did not you come?" said Mary Bell.</p> + +<p>"Because I was disobedient," said Mary Erskine, "and now I suppose I +must be punished."</p> + +<p>"Well," said Mary Bell. The expression of dissatisfaction and reproof +upon Mary Bell's countenance was changed immediately into one of +surprise and pleasure, at the idea of Mary Erskine's being punished +for disobeying <i>her</i>. So she said,</p> + +<p>"Well. And what shall your punishment be?"</p> + +<p>"What did you want me for?" asked Mary Erskine.</p> + +<p>"I wanted you to see my oven."</p> + +<p>"Have you got an oven?" asked Mary Erskine.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Mary Bell, "It is under a stump. I have got some wood, and +now I want some fire."</p> + +<p>"Very well," said Mary Erskine, "get your fire-pan."</p> + +<p>Mary Bell's fire-pan, was an old tin dipper with a long handle. It had +been worn out as a dipper, and so they used to let Mary Bell have it +to carry her fire in. There were several small holes in the bottom of +the dipper, so completely was it worn out: but this made it all the +better for a fire-pan, since the air which came up through the holes, +fanned the coals and kept them alive. This dipper was very valuable, +too, for another purpose. Mary Bell was accustomed, sometimes, to go +down to the brook and dip up water with it, in order to see the water +stream down into the brook again, through these holes, in a sort of a +shower.</p> + +<p>Mary Bell went, accordingly, for her fire-pan, which she found in its +place in the open stoop or shed. She came into the house, and Mary +Erskine, raking open the ashes in the fire-place, took out two large +coals with the tongs, and dropped them into the dipper. Mary Bell held +the dipper at arm's length before her, and began to walk along.</p> + +<p>"Hold it out upon one side," said Mary Erskine, "and then if you fall +down, you will not fall upon your fire."</p> + +<p>Mary Bell, obeying this injunction, went out to her oven and put the +coals in at the mouth of it. Then she began to gather sticks, +and little branches, and strips of birch bark, and other silvan +combustibles, which she found scattered about the ground, and put them +upon the coals to make the fire. She stopped now and then a minute or +two to rest and to listen to the sound of Mary Erskine's spinning. At +last some sudden thought seemed to come into her head, and throwing +down upon the ground a handful of sticks which she had in her hand, +and was just ready to put upon the fire, she got up and walked toward +the house.</p> + +<p>"Mary Erskine," said she, "I almost forgot about your punishment."</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Mary Erskine, "I hoped that you had forgot about it, +altogether."</p> + +<p>"Why?" said Mary Bell.</p> + +<p>"Because," said Mary Erskine, "I don't like to be punished."</p> + +<p>"But you <i>must</i> be punished," said Mary Bell, very positively, +"and what shall your punishment be?"</p> + +<p>"How would it do," said Mary Erskine, going on, however, all the time +with her spinning, "for me to have to give you two potatoes to roast +in your oven?—or one? One potato will be enough punishment for such a +little disobedience."</p> + +<p>"No; two," said Mary Bell.</p> + +<p>"Well, two," said Mary Erskine. "You may go and get them in a pail out +in the stoop. But you must wash them first, before you put them in the +oven. You can wash them down at the brook."</p> + +<p>"I am afraid that I shall get my fingers smutty," said Mary Bell, "at +my oven, for the stump is pretty black."</p> + +<p>"No matter if you do," said Mary Erskine. "You can go down and wash +them at the brook."</p> + +<p>"And my frock, too," said Mary Bell.</p> + +<p>"No matter for that either," said Mary Erskine; "only keep it as clean +as you can."</p> + +<p>So Mary Bell took the two potatoes and went down to the brook to wash +them. She found, however, when she reached the brook, that there was +a square piece of bark lying upon the margin of the water, and she +determined to push it in and sail it, for her ship, putting the two +potatoes on for cargo. After sailing the potatoes about for some time, +her eye chanced to fall upon a smooth spot in the sand, which she +thought would make a good place for a garden. So she determined to +<i>plant</i> her potatoes instead of roasting them.</p> + +<p>She accordingly dug a hole in the sand with her fingers, and put the +potatoes in, and then after covering them, over with the sand, she +went to the oven to get her fire-pan for her watering-pot, in order to +water her garden.</p> + +<p>The holes in the bottom of the dipper made it an excellent +watering-pot, provided the garden to be watered was not too far from +the brook: for the shower would always begin to fall the instant the +dipper was lifted out of the water.</p> + +<p class="pic-centre"> +<a name="pic04" id="pic04" /> +<img src="images/pic0004.jpg" width="500" height="486" alt="An engraving of of Mary Bell in the brook." title="Mary Bell at the brook." /> +</p> + +<p>After watering her garden again and again, Mary Bell concluded on the +whole not to wait for her potatoes to grow, but dug them up and began +to wash them in the brook, to make them ready for the roasting. Her +little feet sank into the sand at the margin of the water while she +held the potatoes in the stream, one in each hand, and watched the +current as it swept swiftly by them. After a while she took them out +and put them in the sun upon a flat stone to dry, and when they were +dry she carried them to her oven and buried them in the hot embers +there.</p> + +<p>Thus Mary Bell would amuse herself, hour after hour of the long +day, when she went to visit Mary Erskine, with an endless variety of +childish imaginings. Her working-frock became in fact, in her mind, +the emblem of complete and perfect liberty and happiness, unbounded +and unalloyed.</p> + +<p>The other children of the village, too, were accustomed to come out +and see Mary Erskine, and sometimes older and more ceremonious company +still. There was one young lady named Anne Sophia, who, having been +a near neighbor of Mrs. Bell's, was considerably acquainted with Mary +Erskine, though as the two young ladies had very different tastes and +habits of mind, they never became very intimate friends. Anne Sophia +was fond of dress and of company. Her thoughts were always running +upon village subjects and village people, and her highest ambition +was to live there. She had been, while Mary Erskine had lived at Mrs. +Bell's, very much interested in a young man named Gordon. He was a +clerk in a store in the village. He was a very agreeable young man, +and much more genteel and polished in his personal appearance than +Albert. He had great influence among the young men of the village, +being the leader in all the excursions and parties of pleasure which +were formed among them. Anne Sophia knew very well that Mr. Gordon +liked to see young ladies handsomely dressed when they appeared in +public, and partly to please him, and partly to gratify that very +proper feeling of pleasure which all young ladies have in appearing +well, she spent a large part of earnings in dress. She was not +particularly extravagant, nor did she get into debt; but she did +not, like Mary Erskine, attempt to lay up any of her wages. She often +endeavored to persuade Mary Erskine to follow her example. "It is of +no use," said she, "for girls like you and me to try to lay up money. +If we are ever married we shall make our husbands take care of us; and +if we are not married we shall not want our savings, for we can always +earn what we need as we go along."</p> + +<p>Mary Erskine had no reply at hand to make to this reasoning, but she +was not convinced by it, so she went on pursuing her own course, +while Anne Sophia pursued hers. Anne Sophia was a very capable and +intelligent girl, and as Mr. Gordon thought, would do credit to any +society in which she might be called to move. He became more and more +interested in her, and it happened that they formed an engagement to +be married, just about the time that Albert made his proposal to Mary +Erskine.</p> + +<p>Mr. Gordon was a very promising business man, and had an offer from +the merchant with whom he was employed as a clerk, to enter into +partnership with him, just before the time of his engagement. +He declined this offer, determining rather to go into business +independently. He had laid up about as much money as Albert had, and +by means of this, and the excellent letters of recommendation which he +obtained from the village people, he obtained a large stock of goods, +on credit, in the city. When buying his goods he also bought a small +quantity of handsome furniture, on the same terms. He hired a store. +He also hired a small white house, with green trees around it, and +a pretty garden behind. He was married nearly at the same time with +Albert, and Anne Sophia in taking possession of her genteel and +beautiful village home, was as happy as Mary Erskine was in her sylvan +solitude. Mr. Gordon told her that he had made a calculation, and he +thought there was no doubt that, if business was tolerably good that +winter, he should be able to clear enough to pay all his expenses and +to pay for his furniture.</p> + +<p>His calculations proved to be correct. Business was very good. He +paid for his furniture, and bought as much more on a new credit in the +spring.</p> + +<p>Anne Sophia came out to make a call upon Mary Erskine, about a +month after she had got established in her new home. She came in the +morning. Mr. Gordon brought her in a chaise as far as to the corner, +and she walked the rest of the way. She was dressed very handsomely, +and yet in pretty good taste. It was not wholly a call of ceremony, +for Anne Sophia felt really a strong attachment to Mary Erskine, and +had a great desire to see her in her new home.</p> + +<p>When she rose to take her leave, after her call was ended, she asked +Mary Erskine to come to the village and see her as soon as she could. +"I meant to have called upon you long before this," said she, "but I +have been so busy, and we have had so much company. But I want to see +you very much indeed. We have a beautiful house, and I have a great +desire to show it to you. I think you have got a beautiful place here +for a farm, one of these days; but you ought to make your husband +build you a better house. He is as able to do it as my husband is to +get me one, I have no doubt."</p> + +<p>Mary Erskine had no doubt either. She did not say so however, but only +replied that she liked her house very well. The real reason why she +liked it so much was one that Anne Sophia did not consider. The reason +was that it was her own. Whereas Anne Sophia lived in a house, which, +pretty as it was, belonged to other people.</p> + +<p>All these things, it must be remembered, took place eight or ten years +before the time when Malleville and Phonny went to visit Mary Erskine, +and when Mary Bell was only four or five years old. Phonny and +Malleville, as well as a great many other children, had grown up from +infancy since that time. In fact, the Jemmy who fell from his horse +and sprained his ankle the day they came, was Jemmy Gordon, Anne +Sophia's oldest son.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3><a name="CHAPTER_IV" id="CHAPTER_IV" />CHAPTER IV.<br /><br />CALAMITY.</h3> + +<p>Both Mary Erskine and Anne Sophia went on very pleasantly and +prosperously, each in her own way, for several years. Every spring +Albert cut down more trees, and made new openings and clearings. He +built barns and sheds about his house, and gradually accumulated quite +a stock of animals. With the money that he obtained by selling the +grain and the grass seed which he raised upon his land, he bought oxen +and sheep and cows. These animals fed in his pastures in the summer, +and in the winter he gave them hay from his barn.</p> + +<p>Mary Erskine used to take the greatest pleasure in getting up early +in the cold winter mornings, and going out with her husband to see +him feed the animals. She always brought in a large pile of wood every +night, the last thing before going to bed, and laid it upon the hearth +where it would be ready at hand for the morning fire. She also had a +pail of water ready, from the spring, and the tea-kettle by the side +of it, ready to be filled. The potatoes, too, which were to be roasted +for breakfast, were always prepared the night before, and placed in an +earthen pan, before the fire. Mary Erskine, in fact, was always very +earnest to make every possible preparation over night, for the work of +the morning. This arose partly from an instinctive impulse which made +her always wish, as she expressed it, "to do every duty as soon as it +came in sight," and partly from the pleasure which she derived from a +morning visit to the animals in the barn. She knew them all by name. +She imagined that they all knew her, and were glad to see her by +the light of her lantern in the morning. It gave her the utmost +satisfaction to see them rise, one after another, from their straw, +and begin eagerly to eat the hay which Albert pitched down to them +from the scaffold, while she, standing below upon the barn floor, held +the lantern so that he could see. She was always very careful to hold +it so that the cows and the oxen could see too.</p> + +<p>One day, when Albert came home from the village, he told Mary Erskine +that he had an offer of a loan of two hundred dollars, from Mr. Keep. +Mr. Keep was an elderly gentleman of the village,—of a mild and +gentle expression of countenance, and white hair. He was a man of +large property, and often had money to lend at interest. He had an +office, where he used to do his business. This office was in a wing of +his house, which was a large and handsome house in the center of the +village. Mr. Keep had a son who was a physician, and he used often to +ask his son's opinion and advice about his affairs. One day when Mr. +Keep was sitting in his office, Mr. Gordon came in and told him that +he had some plans for enlarging his business a little, and wished to +know if Mr. Keep had two or three hundred dollars that he would like +to lend for six months. Mr. Keep, who, though he was a very benevolent +and a very honorable man, was very careful in all his money dealings, +said that he would look a little into his accounts, and see how much +he had to spare, and let Mr. Gordon know the next day.</p> + +<p>That night Mr. Keep asked his son what he thought of lending Mr. +Gordon two or three hundred dollars. His son said doubtfully that he +did not know. He was somewhat uncertain about it. Mr. Gordon was doing +very well, he believed, but then his expenses were quite heavy, and it +was not quite certain how it would turn with him. Mr. Keep then said +that he had two or three hundred dollars on hand which he must dispose +of in some way or other, and he asked his son what he should do with +it. His son recommended that he should offer it to Albert. Albert +formerly lived at Mr. Keep's, as a hired man, so that Mr. Keep knew +him very well.</p> + +<p>"He is going on quite prosperously in his farm, I understand," said +the doctor. "His land is all paid for, and he is getting quite a stock +of cattle, and very comfortable buildings. I think it very likely that +he can buy more stock with the money, and do well with it. And, at all +events, you could not put the money in <i>safer</i> hands."</p> + +<p>"I will propose it to him," said Mr. Keep.</p> + +<p>He did propose it to him that very afternoon, for it happened that +Albert went to the village that day. Albert told Mr. Keep that he was +very much obliged to him for the offer of the money, and that he would +consider whether it would be best for him to take it or not, and let +him know in the morning. So he told Mary Erskine of the offer that he +had had, as soon as he got home.</p> + +<p>"I am very glad to get such an offer," said Albert.</p> + +<p>"Shall you take the money?" said his wife.</p> + +<p>"I don't know," replied Albert. "I rather think not."</p> + +<p>"Then why are you glad to get the offer?" asked Mary Erskine.</p> + +<p>"Oh, it shows that my credit is good in the village. It must be very +good, indeed, to lead such a man as Mr. Keep to offer to lend me +money, of his own accord. It is a considerable comfort to know that I +can get money, whenever I want it, even if I never take it."</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Mary Erskine, "so it is."</p> + +<p>"And it is all owing to you," said Albert.</p> + +<p>"To me?" said Mary Erskine.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said he; "to your prudence and economy, and to your contented +and happy disposition. That is one thing that I always liked you +for. It is so easy to make you happy. There is many a wife, in your +situation, who could not have been happy unless their husband would +build them a handsome house and fill it with handsome furniture—even +if he had to go in debt for his land to pay for it."</p> + +<p>Mary Erskine did not reply, though it gratified her very much to hear +her husband commend her.</p> + +<p>"Well," said she at length, "I am very glad that you have got good +credit. What should you do with the money, if you borrowed it?"</p> + +<p>"Why, one thing that I could do," said Albert, "would be to build a +new house."</p> + +<p>"No," said Mary Erskine, "I like this house very much. I don't want +any other—certainly not until we can build one with our own money."</p> + +<p>"Then," said Albert, "I can buy more stock, and perhaps hire some +help, and get more land cleared this fall, so as to have greater crops +next spring, and then sell the stock when it has grown and increased, +and also the crops, and so get money enough to pay back the debt and +have something over."</p> + +<p>"Should you have much over?" asked Mary.</p> + +<p>"Why that would depend upon how my business turned out,—and that +would depend upon the weather, and the markets, and other things which +we can not now foresee. I think it probable that we should have a good +deal over."</p> + +<p>"Well," said Mary Erskine, "then I would take the money."</p> + +<p>"But, then, on the other hand," said Albert, "I should run some risk +of embarrassing myself, if things did not turn out well. If I were +to be sick, so that I could not attend to so much business, or if I +should Jose any of my stock, or if the crops should not do well, then +I might not get enough to pay back the debt."</p> + +<p>"And what should you do then?" asked Mary Erskine.</p> + +<p>"Why then," replied Albert, "I should have to make up the deficiency +in some other way. I might ask Mr. Keep to put off the payment of the +note, or I might borrow the money of somebody else to pay him, or I +might sell some of my other stock. I could do any of these things well +enough, but it would perhaps cause me some trouble and anxiety."</p> + +<p>"Then I would not take the money," said Mary Erskine. "I don't like +anxiety. I can bear any thing else better than anxiety."</p> + +<p>"However, I don't know any thing about it," continued Mary Erskine, +after a short pause. "You can judge best."</p> + +<p>They conversed on the subject some time longer, Albert being quite +at a loss to know what it was best to do. Mary Erskine, for her part, +seemed perfectly willing that he should borrow the money to buy more +stock, as she liked the idea of having more oxen, sheep, and cows. But +she seemed decidedly opposed to using borrowed money to build a new +house, or to buy new furniture. Her head would ache, she said, to lie +on a pillow of feathers that was not paid for.</p> + +<p>Albert finally concluded not to borrow the money, and so Mr. Keep lent +it to Mr. Gordon.</p> + +<p>Things went on in this way for about three or four years, and then +Albert began to think seriously of building another house. He had +now money enough of his own to build it with. His stock had become so +large that he had not sufficient barn room for his hay, and he did not +wish to build larger barns where he then lived, for in the course of +his clearings he had found a much better place for a house than the +one which they had at first selected. Then his house was beginning to +be too small for his family, for Mary Erskine had, now, two children. +One was an infant, and the other was about two years old. These +children slept in a trundle-bed, which was pushed under the great bed +in the daytime, but still the room became rather crowded. So Albert +determined to build another house.</p> + +<p>Mary Erskine was very much interested in this plan. She would like to +live in a handsome house as well as any other lady, only she preferred +to wait until she could have one of her own. Now that that time had +arrived, she was greatly pleased with the prospect of having her +kitchen, her sitting-room, and her bed-room, in three separate rooms, +instead of having them, as heretofore, all in one. Then the barns and +barn-yards, and the pens and sheds for the sheep and cattle, were all +going to be much more convenient than they had been; so that Albert +could take care of a greater amount of stock than before, with the +same labor. The new house, too, was going to be built in a much more +pleasant situation than the old one, and the road from it to the +corner was to be improved, so that they could go in and out with a +wagon. In a word, Mary Erskine's heart was filled with new hopes and +anticipations, as she saw before her means and sources of happiness, +higher and more extended than she had ever before enjoyed.</p> + +<p>When the time approached for moving into the new house Mary Erskine +occupied herself, whenever she had any leisure time, in packing up +such articles as were not in use. One afternoon while she was engaged +in this occupation, Albert came home from the field much earlier than +usual. Mary Erskine was very glad to see him, as she wished him to +nail up the box in which she had been packing her cups and saucers. +She was at work on the stoop, very near the door, so that she could +watch the children. The baby was in the cradle. The other child, whose +name was Bella, was playing about the floor.</p> + +<p>Albert stopped a moment to look at Mary Erskine's packing, and then +went in and took his seat upon the settle.</p> + +<p>"Tell me when your box is ready," said he, "and I will come and nail +it for you."</p> + +<p>Bella walked along toward her father—for she had just learned to +walk—and attempted to climb up into his lap.</p> + +<p>"Run away, Bella," said Albert.</p> + +<p>Mary Erskine was surprised to hear Albert tell Bella to run away, for +he was usually very glad to have his daughter come to him when he got +home from his work. She looked up to see what was the matter. He was +sitting upon the settle, and leaning his head upon his hand.</p> + +<p>Mary Erskine left her work and went to him.</p> + +<p>"Are you not well, Albert?" said she.</p> + +<p>"My head aches a little. It ached in the field, and that was the +reason why I thought I would come home. But it is better now. Are you +ready for me to come and nail the box?"</p> + +<p>"No," said Mary, "not quite; and besides, it is no matter about it +to-night. I will get you some tea."</p> + +<p>"No," said Albert, "finish your packing first, and I will come and +nail it. Then we can put it out of the way."</p> + +<p>Mary Erskine accordingly finished her packing, and Albert went to it, +to nail the cover on. He drove one or two nails, and then he put the +hammer down, and sat down himself upon the box, saying that he could +not finish the nailing after all. He was too unwell. He went into the +room, Mary Erskine leading and supporting him. She conducted him to +the bed and opened the curtains so as to let him lie down. She helped +him to undress himself, and then left him, a few minutes while she +began to get some tea. She moved the box, which she had been packing, +away from the stoop door, and put it in a corner. She drew out the +trundle-bed, and made, it ready for Bella. She sat down and gave Bella +some supper, and then put her into the trundle-bed, directing her to +shut up her eyes and go to sleep. Bella obeyed.</p> + +<p>Mary Erskine then went to the fire and made some tea and toast for +Albert, doing every thing in as quiet and noiseless a manner as +possible. When the tea and toast were ready she put them upon a small +waiter, and then moving her little work-table up to the side of the +bed, she put the waiter upon it. When every thing was thus ready, she +opened the curtains. Albert was asleep.</p> + +<p>He seemed however to be uneasy and restless, and he moaned now and +then as if in pain. Mary Erskine stood leaning over him for some time, +with a countenance filled with anxiety and concern. She then turned +away, saying to herself, "If Albert is going to be sick and to die, +what <i>will</i> become of me?" She kneeled down upon the floor at +the foot of the bed, crossed her arms before her, laid them down very +quietly upon the counterpane, and reclined her forehead upon them. She +remained in that position for some time without speaking a word.</p> + +<p>Presently she rose and took the tea and toast upon the waiter, and +set them down by the fire in order to keep them warm. She next went to +look at the children, to see if they were properly covered. Then +she opened the bed-curtains a little way in order that she might see +Albert in case he should wake or move, and having adjusted them as she +wished, she went to the stoop door and took her seat there, with her +knitting-work in her hand, in a position from which, on one side she +could look into the room and observe every thing which took place +there, and on the other side, watch the road and see if any one went +by. She thought it probable that some of the workmen, who had been +employed at the new house, might be going home about that time, and +she wished to send into the village by them to ask Dr. Keep to come.</p> + +<p>Mary Erskine succeeded in her design of sending into the village by +one of the workmen, and Dr. Keep came about nine o'clock He prescribed +for Albert, and prepared, and left, some medicine for him. He said he +hoped that he was not going to be very sick, but he could tell better +in the morning when he would come again.</p> + +<p>"But you ought not to be here alone," said he to Mary Erskine. "You +ought to have some one with you."</p> + +<p>"No," said Mary Erskine, "I can get along very well, alone, +to-night,—and I think he will be better in the morning."</p> + +<p>Stories of sickness and suffering are painful to read, as the reality +is painful to witness. We will therefore shorten the tale of Mary +Erskine's anxiety and distress, by saying, at once that Albert grew +worse instead of better, every day for a fortnight, and then died.</p> + +<p>During his sickness Mrs. Bell spent a great deal of time at Mary +Erskine's house, and other persons, from the village, came every day +to watch with Albert, and to help take care of the children. There was +a young man also, named Thomas, whom Mary Erskine employed to come and +stay there all day, to take the necessary care of the cattle and of +the farm. They made a bed for Thomas in the scaffold in the barn. They +also made up a bed in the stoop, in a corner which they divided off +by means of a curtain. This bed was for the watchers, and for Mary +Erskine herself, when she or they wished to lie down. Mary Erskine +went to it, herself very seldom. She remained at her husband's bedside +almost all the time, day and night. Albert suffered very little +pain, and seemed to sleep most of the time. He revived a little the +afternoon before he died, and appeared as if he were going to be +better. He looked up into Mary Erskine's face and smiled. It was +plain, however, that he was very feeble.</p> + +<p>There was nobody but Mrs. Bell in the house, at that time, besides +Mary Erskine and the baby. Bella had gone to Mrs. Bell's house, and +Mary Bell was taking care of her. Albert beckoned his wife to come to +him, and said to her, in a faint and feeble voice, that he wished Mrs. +Bell to write something for him. Mary Erskine immediately brought her +work-table up to the bedside, opened the drawer, took out one of the +sheets of paper and a pen, opened the inkstand, and thus made every +thing ready for writing. Mrs. Bell took her seat by the table in such +a manner that her head was near to Albert's as it lay upon the pillow.</p> + +<p>"I am ready now," said Mrs. Bell.</p> + +<p>"I bequeath all my property,"—said Albert.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Bell wrote these words upon the paper, and then said,</p> + +<p>"Well: I have written that."</p> + +<p>"To Mary Erskine my wife," said Albert.</p> + +<p>"I have written that," said Mrs. Bell, a minute afterwards.</p> + +<p>"Now hand it to me to sign," said Albert.</p> + +<p>They put the paper upon a book, and raising Albert up in the bed, +they put the pen into his hand. He wrote his name at the bottom of the +writing at the right hand. Then moving his hand to the left, he wrote +the word '<i>witness</i>' under the writing on that side. His hand +trembled, but he wrote the word pretty plain. As he finished writing +it he told Mrs. Bell that she must sign her name as witness. When this +had been done he gave back the paper and the pen into Mary Erskine's +hand, and said that she must take good care of that paper, for it was +very important. He then laid his head down again upon the pillow and +shut his eyes. He died that night.</p> + +<p>Mary Erskine was entirely overwhelmed with grief, when she found that +all was over. In a few hours, however, she became comparatively calm, +and the next day she began to help Mrs. Bell in making preparations +for the funeral. She sent for Bella to come home immediately. Mrs. +Bell urged her very earnestly to take both the children, and go with +her to <i>her</i> house, after the funeral, and stay there for a few +days at least, till she could determine what to do.</p> + +<p>"No," said Mary Erskine. "It will be better for me to come back here."</p> + +<p>"What do you think you shall do?" said Mrs. Bell.</p> + +<p>"I don't know," said Mary Erskine. "I can't even begin to think now. I +am going to wait a week before I try to think about it at all."</p> + +<p>"And in the mean time you are going to stay in this house."</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Mary Erskine, "I think that is best."</p> + +<p>"But you must not stay here alone," said Mrs. Bell. "I will come back +with you and stay with you, at least one night."</p> + +<p>"No," said Mary Erskine. "I have got to learn to be alone now, and +I may as well begin at once. I am very much obliged to you for all +your—"</p> + +<p>Here Mary Erskine's voice faltered, and she suddenly stopped. Mrs. +Bell pitied her with all her heart, but she said no more. She remained +at the house while the funeral procession was gone to the grave; and +some friends came back with Mary Erskine, after the funeral. They all, +however, went away about sunset, leaving Mary Erskine alone with her +children.</p> + +<p>As soon as her friends had gone, Mary Erskine took the children and +sat down in a rocking-chair, before the fire, holding them both in +her lap, the baby upon one side and Bella upon the other, and began to +rock back and forth with great rapidity. She kissed the children again +and again, with many tears, and sometimes she groaned aloud, in the +excess of her anguish. She remained sitting thus for half an hour. The +twilight gradually faded away. The flickering flame, which rose from +the fire in the fire-place, seemed to grow brighter as the daylight +disappeared, and to illuminate the whole interior of the room, so as +to give it a genial and cheerful expression. Mary Erskine gradually +became calm. The children, first the baby, and then Bella, fell +asleep. Finally Mary Erskine herself, who was by this time entirely +exhausted with watching, care, and sorrow, fell asleep too. Mary +Erskine slept sweetly for two full hours, and then was awaked by the +nestling of the baby.</p> + +<p class="pic-centre"> +<a name="pic05" id="pic05" /> +<img src="images/pic0005.jpg" width="500" height="486" alt="An engraving of Mary Bell and her children asleep in a rocking chair." title="The widow and the fatherless." /> +</p> + +<p>When Mary Erskine awoke she was astonished to find her mind perfectly +calm, tranquil, and happy. She looked down upon her children—Bella +asleep and the baby just awaking—with a heart full of maternal joy +and pleasure. Her room, it seemed to her, never appeared so bright and +cheerful and happy as then. She carried Bella to the bed and laid her +gently down in Albert's place, and then, going back to the fire, she +gave the baby the food which it required, and rocked it to sleep. +Her heart was resigned, and tranquil, and happy, She put the baby, at +length, into the cradle, and then, kneeling down, she thanked God with +her whole soul for having heard her prayer, and granted her the spirit +of resignation and peace. She then pushed open the curtains, and +reclined herself upon the bed, where she lay for some time, with a +peaceful smile upon her countenance, watching the flashing of a little +tongue, of flame, which broke out at intervals from the end of a brand +in the fire. After lying quietly thus, for a little while, she closed +her eyes, and gradually fell asleep again.</p> + +<p>She slept very profoundly. It was a summer night, although, as usual, +Mary Erskine had a fire. Clouds rose in the west, bringing with them +gusts of wind and rain. The wind and the rain beat against the window, +but they did not wake her. It thundered. The thunder did not wake her. +The shower passed over, and the sky became, serene again, while Mary +Erskine slept tranquilly on. At length the baby began to move in the +cradle. Mary Erskine heard the first sound that its nestling made, and +raised herself up suddenly. The fire had nearly gone out. There was +no flame, and the room was lighted only by the glow of the burning +embers. Mary Erskine was frightened to find herself alone. The +tranquillity and happiness which she had experienced a few hours ago +were all gone, and her mind was filled, instead, with an undefined and +mysterious distress and terror. She went to the fire-place and built +a new fire, for the sake of its company. She took the baby from the +cradle and sat down in the rocking-chair, determining not to go to +bed again till morning. She went to the window and looked out at the +stars, to see if she could tell by them how long it would be before +the morning would come. She felt afraid, though she knew not why, and +holding the baby in her arms, with its head upon her shoulder, she +walked back and forth across the room, in great distress and anguish, +longing for the morning to come. Such is the capriciousness of grief.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3><a name="CHAPTER_V" id="CHAPTER_V" />CHAPTER V.<br /><br />CONSULTATIONS.</h3> + + +<p>Mrs. Bell went home on the evening of the funeral, very much exhausted +and fatigued under the combined effects of watching, anxiety, and +exertion. She went to bed, and slept very soundly until nearly +midnight. The thunder awaked her.</p> + +<p>She felt solitary and afraid. Mary Bell, who was then about nine years +old, was asleep in a crib, in a corner of the room. There was a little +night lamp, burning dimly on the table, and it shed a faint and dismal +gleam upon the objects around it. Every few minutes, however, the +lightning would flash into the windows and glare a moment upon the +walls, and then leave the room in deeper darkness than ever. The +little night lamp, whose feeble beam had been for the moment entirely +overpowered, would then gradually come out to view again, to diffuse +once more its faint illumination, until another flash of lightning +came to extinguish it as before.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Bell rose from her bed, and went to the crib to see if Mary Bell +was safe. She found her sleeping quietly. Mrs. Bell drew the crib out +a little way from the wall, supposing that she should thus put it into +a somewhat safer position. Then she lighted a large lamp. Then +she closed all the shutters of the room, in order to shut out the +lightning. Then she went to bed again, and tried to go to sleep. But +she could not. She was thinking of Mary Erskine, and endeavoring to +form some plan for her future life. She could not, however, determine +what it was best for her to do.</p> + +<p>In the morning, after breakfast, she sat down at the window, with her +knitting work in her hand, looking very thoughtful and sad. Presently +she laid her work down in her lap, and seemed lost in some melancholy +reverie.</p> + +<p>Mary Bell, who had been playing about the floor for some time, came +up to her mother, and seeing her look so thoughtful and sorrowful, she +said,</p> + +<p>"Mother, what is the matter with you?"</p> + +<p>"Why, Mary," said Mrs. Bell, in a melancholy tone, "I was thinking of +poor Mary Erskine."</p> + +<p>"Well, mother," said Mary Bell, "could not you give her a little +money, if she is poor? I will give her my ten cents."</p> + +<p class="pic-centre"> +<a name="pic06" id="pic06" /> +<img src="images/pic0006.jpg" width="500" height="481" alt="An engraving of Mrs. Bell at home." title="Mrs. Bell." /> +</p> + +<p>Mary Bell had a silver piece of ten cents, which she kept in a little +box, in her mother's room up stairs.</p> + +<p>"Oh, she is not poor for want of money," said Mrs. Bell. "Her husband +made his will, before he died, and left her all his property."</p> + +<p>"Though I told Mr. Keep about it last night," continued Mrs. Bell, +talking half to herself and half to Mary, "and he said the will was +not good."</p> + +<p>"Not good," said Mary. "I think it is a very good will indeed. I am +sure Mary Erskine ought to have it all. Who should have it, if not +she?"</p> + +<p>"The children, I suppose," said her mother.</p> + +<p>"The children!" exclaimed Mary Bell. "Hoh! They are not half big +enough. They are only two babies; a great baby and a little one."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Bell did not answer this, nor did she seem to take much notice of +it, but took up her knitting again, and went on musing as before. Mary +Bell did not understand very well about the will. The case was this:</p> + +<p>The law, in the state where Mary Erskine lived, provided that when a +man died, as Albert had done, leaving a wife and children, and a farm, +and also stock, and furniture, and other such movable property, if +he made no will, the wife was to have a part of the property, and the +rest must be saved for the children, in order to be delivered to them, +when they should grow up, and be ready to receive it and use it. The +farm, when there was a farm, was to be kept until the children should +grow up, only their mother was to have one third of the benefit of +it,—that is, one third of the rent of it, if they could let it—until +the children became of age. The amount of the other two thirds was to +be kept for them. In respect to all movable property, such as stock +and tools, and furniture, and other things of that kind, since they +could not very conveniently be kept till the children were old enough +to use them, they were to be sold, and the wife was to have half the +value, and the children the other half.</p> + +<p>In respect to the children's part of all the property, they were +not, themselves, to have the care of it, but some person was to be +appointed to be their guardian. This guardian was to have the care of +all their share of the property, until they were of age, when it was +to be paid over into their hands.</p> + +<p>If, however, the husband, before his death, was disposed to do so, he +might make a will, and give all the property to whomsoever he pleased. +If he decided, as Albert had done, to give it all to his wife, then +it would come wholly under her control, at once. She would be under no +obligation to keep any separate account of the children's share, but +might expend it all herself, or if she were so inclined, she might +keep it safely, and perhaps add to it by the proceeds of her own +industry, and then, when the children should grow up, she might give +them as much as her maternal affection should dictate.</p> + +<p>In order that the property of men who die, should be disposed of +properly, according to law, or according to the will, if any will be +made, it is required that soon after the death of any person takes +place, the state of the case should be reported at a certain public +office, instituted to attend to this business. There is such an office +in every county in the New England states. It is called the Probate +office. The officer, who has this business in charge, is called the +Judge of Probate. There is a similar system in force, in all the +other states of the Union, though the officers are sometimes called by +different names from those which they receive in New England.</p> + +<p>Now, while Albert was lying sick upon his bed, he was occupied a great +deal of the time, while they thought that he was asleep, in thinking +what was to become of his wife and children in case he should die. +He knew very well that in case he died without making any will, his +property must be divided, under the direction of the Judge of Probate, +and one part of it be kept for the children, while Mary Erskine would +have the control only of the other part. This is a very excellent +arrangement in all ordinary cases, so that the law, in itself, is a +very good law. There are, however, some cases, which are exceptions, +and Albert thought that Mary Erskine's case was one. It was owing, +in a great measure, to her prudence and economy, to her efficient +industry, and to her contented and happy disposition, that he had been +able to acquire any property, instead of spending all that he earned, +like Mr. Gordon, as fast as he earned it. Then, besides, he knew +that Mary Erskine would act as conscientiously and faithfully for the +benefit of the children, if the property was all her own, as she +would if a part of it was theirs, and only held by herself, for safe +keeping, as their guardian. Whereas, if this last arrangement went +into effect, he feared that it would make her great trouble to keep +the accounts, as she could not write, not even to sign her name. He +determined, therefore, to make a will, and give all his property, of +every kind, absolutely to her. This he did, in the manner described in +the last chapter.</p> + +<p>The law invests every man with a very absolute power in respect to his +property, authorizing him to make any disposition of it whatever, and +carrying faithfully into effect, after his death, any wish that he may +have expressed in regard to it, as his deliberate and final intention. +It insists, however, that there should be evidence that the wish, so +expressed, is really a deliberate and final act. It is not enough that +the man should say in words what his wishes are. The will must be in +writing, and it must be signed; or if the sick man can not write, he +must make some mark with the pen, at the bottom of the paper, to stand +instead of a signature, and to show that he considers the act, which +he is performing, as a solemn and binding transaction. Nor will it do +to have the will executed in the presence of only one witness; for if +that were allowed, designing persons would sometimes persuade a sick +man, who was rich, to sign a will which they themselves had written, +telling him, perhaps, that it was only a receipt, or some other +unimportant paper, and thus inducing him to convey his property in a +way that he did not intend. The truth is, that there is necessity for +a much greater degree of precautionary form, in the execution of a +will, than in almost any other transaction; for as the man himself +will be dead and gone when the time comes for carrying the will into +effect,—and so can not give any explanation of his designs, it is +necessary to make them absolutely clear and certain, independently +of him. It was, accordingly, the law, in the state where Mary Erskine +lived, that there should be three witnesses present, when any person +signed a will; and also that when signing the paper, the man should +say that he knew that it was his will. If three credible persons thus +attested the reality and honesty of the transaction, it was thought +sufficient, in all ordinary cases, to make it sure.</p> + +<p>Albert, it seems, was not aware how many witnesses were required. When +he requested Mrs. Bell to sign his will, as witness, he thought that +he was doing all that was necessary to make it valid. When, however, +Mrs. Bell, afterwards, in going home, met Mr. Keep and related to +him the transaction, he said that he was afraid that the will was not +good, meaning that it would not stand in law.</p> + +<p>The thought that the will was probably not valid, caused Mrs. Bell a +considerable degree of anxiety and concern, as she imagined that its +failure would probably cause Mary Erskine a considerable degree of +trouble and embarrassment, though she did not know precisely how. She +supposed that the children's share of the property must necessarily be +kept separate and untouched until they grew up, and that in the mean +time their mother would have to work very hard in order to maintain +herself and them too. But this is not the law. The guardian of +children, in such cases, is authorized to expend, from the children's +share of property, as much as is necessary for their maintenance while +they are children; and it is only the surplus, if there is any, which +it is required of her to pay over to them, when they come of age. It +would be obviously unjust, in cases where children themselves have +property left them by legacy, or falling to them by inheritance, to +compel their father or mother to toil ten or twenty years to feed and +clothe them, in order that they might have their property, whole and +untouched, when they come of age. All that the law requires is +that the property bequeathed to children, or falling to them by +inheritance, shall always be exactly ascertained, and an account of it +put upon record in the Probate office: and then, that a guardian shall +be appointed, who shall expend only so much of it, while the children +are young, as is necessary for their comfortable support and proper +education; and then, when they come of age, if there is any surplus +left, that it shall be paid over to them. In Mary Erskine's case, +these accounts would, of course, cause her some trouble, but it would +make but little difference in the end.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Bell spent a great deal of time, during the day, in trying to +think what it would be best for Mary Erskine to do, and also in trying +to think what she could herself do for her. She, however, made very +little progress in respect to either of those points. It seemed to her +that Mary Erskine could not move into the new house, and attempt to +carry on the farm, and, on the other hand, it appeared equally out +of the question for her to remain where she was, in her lonesome log +cabin. She might move into the village, or to some house nearer the +village, but what should she do in that case for a livelihood. In a +word, the more that Mrs. Bell reflected upon the subject, the more at +a loss she was.</p> + +<p>She determined to go and see Mary Erskine after dinner, again, as the +visit would at least be a token of kindness and sympathy, even if it +should do no other good. She arrived at the house about the middle +of the afternoon. She found Mary Erskine busily at work, putting the +house in order, and rectifying the many derangements which sickness +and death always occasion. Mary Erskine received Mrs. Bell at first +with a cheerful smile, and seemed, to all appearance, as contented and +happy as usual. The sight of Mrs. Bell, however, recalled forcibly to +her mind her irremediable loss, and overwhelmed her heart, again, with +bitter grief. She went to the window, where her little work-table +had been placed, and throwing herself down in a chair before it, she +crossed her arms upon the table, laid her forehead down upon them in +an attitude of despair, and burst into tears.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Bell drew up toward her and stood by her side in silence. She +pitied her with all her heart, but she did not know what to say to +comfort her.</p> + +<p>Just then little Bella came climbing up the steps, from the stoop, +with some flowers in her hand, which she had gathered in the yard. As +soon as she had got up into the room she stood upon her feet and went +dancing along toward the baby, who was playing upon the floor, singing +as she danced. She gave the baby the flowers, and then, seeing that +her mother was in trouble, she came up toward the place and stood +still a moment, with a countenance expressive of great concern. She +put her arm around her mother's neck, saying in a very gentle and +soothing tone,</p> + +<p>"Mother! what is the matter, mother?"</p> + +<p>Mary Erskine liberated one of her arms, and clasped Bella with it +fondly, but did not raise her head, or answer.</p> + +<p>"Go and get some flowers for your mother," said Mrs. Bell, "like those +which you got for the baby."</p> + +<p>"Well," said Bella, "I will." So she turned away, and went singing and +dancing out of the room.</p> + +<p>"Mary," said Mrs. Bell. "I wish that you would shut up this house and +take the children and come to my house, at least for a while, until +you can determine what to do."</p> + +<p>Mary Erskine shook her head, but did not reply. She seemed, however, +to be regaining her composure. Presently she raised her head, smoothed +down her hair, which was very soft and beautiful, readjusted her +dress, and sat up, looking out at the window.</p> + +<p>"If you stay here," continued Mrs. Bell, "you will only spend your +time in useless and hopeless grief."</p> + +<p>"No," said Mary Erskine, "I am not going to do any such a thing."</p> + +<p>"Have you begun to think at all what you shall do?" asked Mrs. Bell.</p> + +<p>"No," said Mary Erskine. "When any great thing happens, I always have +to wait a little while till I get accustomed to knowing that it has +happened, before I can determine what to do about it. It seems as if +I did not more than half know yet, that Albert is dead. Every time the +door opens I almost expect to see him come in."</p> + +<p>"Do you think that you shall move to the new house?" asked Mrs. Bell.</p> + +<p>"No," said Mary Erskine, "I see that I can't do that. I don't wish to +move there, either, now."</p> + +<p>"There's one thing," continued Mrs. Bell after a moment's pause, "that +perhaps I ought to tell you, though it is rather bad news for you. Mr. +Keep says that he is afraid that the will, which Albert made, is not +good in law."</p> + +<p>"Not good! Why not?" asked Mary Erskine.</p> + +<p>"Why because there is only one witness The law requires that there +should be three witnesses, so as to be sure that Albert really signed +the will."</p> + +<p>"Oh no," said Mary Erskine. "One witness is enough, I am sure. The +Judge of Probate knows you, and he will believe you as certainly as he +would a dozen witnesses."</p> + +<p>"But I suppose," said Mrs. Bell, "that it does not depend upon the +Judge of Probate. It depends upon the law."</p> + +<p>Mary Erskine was silent. Presently she opened her drawer and took out +the will and looked at it mysteriously. She could not read a word of +it.</p> + +<p>"Read it to me, Mrs. Bell," said she, handing the paper to Mrs. Bell.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Bell read as follows:</p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">"I bequeath all my property to my wife, Mary Erskine.</span> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Albert Forester. Witness, Mary Bell."</span> +</p> + +<p>"I am sure that is all right," said Mary Erskine. "It is very plain, +and one witness is enough. Besides, Albert would know how it ought to +be done."</p> + +<p>"But then," she continued after a moment's pause, "he was very sick +and feeble. Perhaps he did not think. I am sure I shall be very sorry +if it is not a good will, for if I do not have the farm and the stock, +I don't know what I shall do with my poor children."</p> + +<p>Mary Erskine had a vague idea that if the will should prove invalid, +she and her children would lose the property, in some way or other, +entirely,—though she did not know precisely how. After musing upon +this melancholy prospect a moment she asked,</p> + +<p>"Should not I have <i>any</i> of the property, if the will proves not +to be good?"</p> + +<p>"Oh yes," said Mrs. Bell, "you will have a considerable part of it, at +any rate."</p> + +<p>"How much?" asked Mary Erskine.</p> + +<p>"Why about half, I believe," replied Mrs. Bell.</p> + +<p>"Oh," said Mary Erskine, apparently very much relieved. "That will +do very well. Half will be enough. There is a great deal of property. +Albert told me that the farm and the new house are worth five hundred +dollars, and the stock is worth full three hundred more. And Albert +does not owe any thing at all."</p> + +<p>"Well," said Mrs. Bell. "You will have half. Either half or a third, I +forget exactly which."</p> + +<p>"And what becomes of the rest?" asked Mary Erskine.</p> + +<p>"Why the rest goes to the children," said Mrs. Bell.</p> + +<p>"To the children!" repeated Mary Erskine.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said she, "you will have to be appointed guardian, and take +care of it for them, and carry in your account, now and then, to the +Judge of Probate."</p> + +<p>"Oh," said Mary Erskine, her countenance brightening up with an +expression of great relief and satisfaction. "That is just the same +thing. If it is to go to the children, and I am to take care of it for +them, it is just the same thing. I don't care any thing about the will +at all."</p> + +<p>So saying, she threw the paper down upon the table, as if it was of no +value whatever.</p> + +<p>"But there's one thing," she said again, after pausing a few minutes. +"I can't keep any accounts. I can not even write my name."</p> + +<p>"That is no matter," said Mrs. Bell. "There will be but little to +do about the accounts, and it is easy to get somebody to do that for +you."</p> + +<p>"I wish I had learned to write," said Mary Erskine.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Bell said nothing, but in her heart she wished so too.</p> + +<p>"Do you think that I could possibly learn now?" asked Mary Erskine.</p> + +<p>"Why,—I don't know,—perhaps, if you had any one to teach you."</p> + +<p>"Thomas might teach me, perhaps," said Mary Erskine, doubtfully. Then, +in a moment she added again, in a desponding tone,—"but I don't know +how long he will stay here."</p> + +<p>"Then you don't know at all yet," said Mrs. Bell, after a short pause, +"what you shall conclude to do."</p> + +<p>"No," replied Mary Erskine, "not at all. I am going on, just as I am +now, for some days, without perplexing myself at all about it. And I +am not going to mourn and make myself miserable. I am going to make +myself as contented and happy as I can, with my work and my children."</p> + +<p>Here Mary Erskine suddenly laid her head down upon her arms again, on +the little work-table before her, and burst into tears. After sobbing +convulsively a few minutes she rose, hastily brushed the tears away +with her handkerchief, and went toward the door. She then took the +water pail, which stood upon a bench near the door, and said that +she was going to get some water, at the spring, for tea, and that she +would be back in a moment. She returned very soon, with a countenance +entirely serene.</p> + +<p>"I have been trying all day," said Mrs. Bell, "to think of something +that I could do for you, to help you or to relieve you in some way or +other; but I can not think of any thing at all that I can do."</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Mary Erskine, "there is one thing that you could do +for me, that would be a very great kindness, a very great kindness +indeed."</p> + +<p>"What is it?" asked Mrs. Bell.</p> + +<p>"I am afraid that you will think it is too much for me to ask."</p> + +<p>"No," said Mrs. Bell, "what is it?"</p> + +<p>Mary Erskine hesitated a moment, and then said,</p> + +<p>"To let Mary Bell come and stay here with me, a few days."</p> + +<p>"Do you mean all night, too?" asked Mrs. Bell.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Mary Erskine, "all the time."</p> + +<p>"Why, you have got two children to take care of now," replied Mrs. +Bell, "and nobody to help you. I should have thought that you would +have sooner asked me to take Bella home with me."</p> + +<p>"No," said Mary Erskine. "I should like to have Mary Bell here, very +much, for a few days."</p> + +<p>"Well," said Mrs. Bell, "she shall certainly come. I will send her, +to-morrow morning."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3><a name="CHAPTER_VI" id="CHAPTER_VI" />CHAPTER VI.<br /><br />MARY BELL IN THE WOODS.</h3> + + +<p>Mary Erskine had a bible in her house, although she could not read +it. When Albert was alive he was accustomed to read a chapter every +evening, just before bed-time, and then he and Mary Erskine would +kneel down together, by the settle which stood in the corner, while he +repeated his evening prayer. This short season of devotion was always +a great source of enjoyment to Mary Erskine. If she was tired and +troubled, it soothed and quieted her mind. If she was sorrowful, it +comforted her. If she was happy, it seemed to make her happiness more +deep and unalloyed.</p> + +<p>Mary Erskine could not read the bible, but she could repeat a +considerable number of texts and verses from it, and she knew, too, +the prayer, which Albert had been accustomed to offer, almost by +heart. So after Mrs. Bell had gone home, as described in the last +chapter, and after she herself had undressed the children and put them +to bed, and had finished all the other labors and duties of the day, +she took the bible down from its shelf, and seating herself upon the +settle, so as to see by the light of the fire, as Albert had been +accustomed to do, she opened the book, and then began to repeat such +verses as she could remember. At length she closed the book, and +laying it down upon the seat of the settle, in imitation of Albert's +custom, she kneeled down before it, and repeated the prayer. The use +of the bible itself, in this service, was of course a mere form:—but +there is sometimes a great deal of spiritual good to be derived from +a form, when the heart is in it, to give it meaning and life. Mary +Erskine went to bed comforted and happy; and she slept peacefully +through each one of the three periods of repose, into which the care +of an infant by a mother usually divides the night.</p> + +<p>In the morning, the first thought which came into her mind was, that +Mary Bell was coming to see her. She anticipated the visit from her +former charge with great pleasure. She had had Mary Bell under her +charge from early infancy, and she loved her, accordingly, almost as +much as if she were her own child. Besides, as Mary Bell had grown up +she had become a very attractive and beautiful child, so kind to all, +so considerate, so gentle, so active and intelligent, and at the +same time so docile, and so quiet, that she was a universal favorite +wherever she went. Mary Erskine was full of joy at the idea of having +her come and spend several days and nights too, at her house, and she +was impatient for the time to arrive when she might begin to expect +her. At eight o'clock, she began to go often to the door to look down +the road. At nine, she began to feel uneasy. At ten, she put on +her hood and went down the road, almost to the corner, to meet +her—looking forward intensely all the way, hoping at every turn to +see her expected visitor advancing along the path. She went on thus +until she came in sight of the corner, without seeing or hearing any +thing of Mary Bell; and then she was compelled to return home alone, +disappointed and sad. She waited dinner from twelve until one, but +no Mary Bell appeared. Mary Erskine then concluded that something had +happened to detain her expected visitor at home, and that she might +be disappointed of the visit altogether. Still she could not but hope +that Mary would come in the course of the afternoon. The hours of +the afternoon, however, passed tediously away, and the sun began to +decline toward the west; still there was no Mary Bell. The cause of +her detention will now be explained.</p> + +<p>When Mary Bell came down to breakfast, on the morning after her +mother's visit to Mary Erskine, her mother told her, as she came +into the room, that she had an invitation for her to go out to Mary +Erskine's that day.</p> + +<p>"And may I go?" asked Mary Bell.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said her mother, "I think I shall let you go."</p> + +<p>"I am <i>so</i> glad!" said Mary Bell, clapping her hands.</p> + +<p>"Mary Erskine wishes to have you stay there several days," continued +her mother.</p> + +<p>Mary Bell began to look a little sober again. She was not quite sure +that she should be willing to be absent from her mother, for so many +days.</p> + +<p>"Could not I come home every night?" said she.</p> + +<p>"Why, she wishes," answered Mrs. Bell, "to have you stay there all the +time, day and night, for several days. It is an opportunity for you +to do some good. You could not do Mary Erskine any good by giving her +your money, for she has got plenty of money; nor by carrying her any +thing good to eat, for her house is full of abundance, and she knows +as well how to make good things as any body in town. But you can do +her a great deal of good by going and staying with her, and keeping +her company. Perhaps you can help her a little, in taking care of the +children."</p> + +<p>"Well," said Mary Bell, "I should like to go."</p> + +<p>So Mrs. Bell dressed Mary neatly, for the walk, gave her a very small +tin pail, with two oranges in it for Mary Erskine's children, and then +sent out word to the hired man, whose name was Joseph, to harness the +horse into the wagon. When the wagon was ready, she directed Joseph to +carry Mary to the corner, and see that she set out upon the right road +there, toward Mary Erskine's house. It was only about half a mile +from the corner to the house, and the road, though crooked, stony, and +rough, was very plain, and Mary Bell had often walked over it alone.</p> + +<p>There was, in fact, only one place where there could be any danger +of Mary Bell's losing her way, and that was at a point about midway +between the corner and Mary Erskine's house, where a road branched off +to the right, and led into the woods. There was a large pine-tree at +this point, which Mary Bell remembered well; and she knew that she +must take the left-hand road when she reached this tree. There were +various little paths, at other places, but none that could mislead +her.</p> + +<p>When Joseph, at length, set Mary Bell down in the path at the corner, +she stood still, upon a flat rock by the side of the road, to see him +turn the wagon and set out upon his return.</p> + +<p>"Good-bye, Joseph," said she. "I am going to be gone several days."</p> + +<p>"Good-bye," said Joseph, turning to look round at Mary Bell, as the +wagon slowly moved away.</p> + +<p>"Bid mother good-bye," said Mary Bell,—"and Joseph, don't you forget +to water my geranium."</p> + +<p>"No," said Joseph, "and don't you forget to take the left-hand road."</p> + +<p>"No," said Mary Bell.</p> + +<p>She felt a slight sensation of lonesomeness, to be left there in +solitude at the entrance of a dark and somber wood, especially when +she reflected that it was to be several days before she should see her +mother again. But then, calling up to her mind a vivid picture of Mary +Erskine's house, and of the pleasure that she should enjoy there, in +playing with Bella and the baby, she turned toward the pathway into +the woods, and walked resolutely forward, swinging her pail in her +hand and singing a song.</p> + +<p>There were a great many birds in the woods; some were hopping about +upon the rocks and bushes by the road-side. Others were singing in +solitary places, upon the tops of tall trees in the depths of the +forest, their notes being heard at intervals, in various directions, +as if one was answering another, to beguile the solemn loneliness of +the woods. The trees were very tall, and Mary Bell, as she looked up +from her deep and narrow pathway, and saw the lofty tops rocking to +and fro with a very slow and gentle motion, as they were waved by the +wind, it seemed to her that they actually touched the sky.</p> + +<p>At one time she heard the leaves rustling, by the side of the road, +and looking in under the trees, she saw a gray squirrel, just in the +act of leaping up from the leaves upon the ground to the end of a log. +As soon as he had gained this footing, he stopped and looked round at +Mary Bell. Mary Bell stopped too; each looked at the other for several +seconds, in silence,—the child with an expression of curiosity and +pleasure upon her countenance, and the squirrel with one of wonder and +fear upon his. Mary Bell made a sudden motion toward him with her hand +to frighten him a little. It did frighten him. He turned off and ran +along the log as fast as he could go, until he reached the end of it, +and disappeared.</p> + +<p>"Poor Bobbin," said Mary Bell, "I am sorry that I frightened you +away."</p> + +<p>A few steps farther on in her walk, Mary Bell came to a place where +a great number of yellow butterflies had settled down together in the +path. Most of them were still, but a few were fluttering about, to +find good places.</p> + +<p>"Oh, what pretty butterflies!" said Mary Bell. "They have been flying +about, I suppose, till they have got tired, and have stopped to rest. +But if I were a butterfly, I would rest upon flowers, and not upon the +ground."</p> + +<p>Mary Bell paused and looked upon the butterflies a moment, and then +said,</p> + +<p>"And now how shall I get by? I am sure I don't want to tread upon +those butterflies. I will sit down here, myself, on a stone, and wait +till they get rested and fly away. Besides, I am tired myself, and +<i>I</i> shall get rested too."</p> + +<p>Just as she took her seat she saw that there was a little path, which +diverged here from the main road, and turned into the woods a little +way, seeming to come back again after a short distance. There were +many such little paths, here and there, running parallel to the main +road. They were made by the cows, in the spring of the year when the +roads were wet, to avoid the swampy places. These places were now all +dry, and the bye-paths were consequently of no use, though traces of +them remained.</p> + +<p>"No," said Mary Bell. "I will not stop to rest; I am not very tired; +so I will go around by this little path. It will come into the road +again very soon."</p> + +<p>Mary Bell's opinion would have been just, in respect to any other path +but this one; but it so happened, very unfortunately for her, that +now, although not aware of it, she was in fact very near the great +pine-tree, where the road into the woods branched off, and the path +which she was determining to take, though it commenced in the main +road leading to Mary Erskine's, did not return to it again, but after +passing, by a circuitous and devious course, through the bushes a +little way, ended in the branch road which led into the woods, at a +short distance beyond the pine-tree.</p> + +<p>Mary Bell was not aware of this state of things, but supposed, without +doubt, that the path would come out again into the same road that +it left, and that, she could pass round through it, and so avoid +disturbing the butterflies. She thought, indeed, it might possibly be +that the path would not come back at all, but would lose itself in +the woods; and to guard against this danger, she determined that after +going on for a very short distance, if she found that it did not come +out into the road again, she would come directly back. The idea of +its coming out into a wrong road did not occur to her mind as a +possibility.</p> + +<p>She accordingly entered the path, and after proceeding in it a little +way she was quite pleased to see it coming out again into what she +supposed was the main road. Dismissing, now, all care and concern, she +walked forward in a very light-hearted and happy manner. The road +was very similar in its character to the one which she ought to have +taken, so that there was nothing in the appearances around her to lead +her to suppose that she was wrong. She had, moreover, very little idea +of measures of time, and still less of distance, and thus she went on +for more than an hour before she began to wonder why she did not get +to Mary Erskine's.</p> + +<p>She began to suspect, then, that she had in some way or other lost +the right road. She, however, went on, looking anxiously about for +indications of an approach to the farm, until at length she saw signs +of an opening in the woods, at some distance before her. She concluded +to go on until she came to this opening, and if she could not tell +where she was by the appearance of the country there, she would go +back again by the road she came.</p> + +<p>The opening, when she reached it, appeared to consist of a sort of +pasture land, undulating in its surface, and having thickets of +trees and bushes scattered over it, here and there. There was a small +elevation in the land, at a little distance from the place where Mary +Bell came out, and she thought that she would go to the top of +this elevation, and look for Mary Erskine's house, all around. She +accordingly did so, but neither Mary Erskine's house nor any other +human habitation was anywhere to be seen.</p> + +<p>She sat down upon a smooth stone, which was near her, feeling tired +and thirsty, and beginning to be somewhat anxious in respect to her +situation. She thought, however, that there was no great danger, for +her mother would certainly send Joseph out into the woods to find her, +as soon as she heard that she was lost. She concluded, at first, to +wait where she was until Joseph should come, but on second thoughts, +she concluded to go back by the road which had led her to the opening, +and so, perhaps meet him on the way. She was very thirsty, and wished +very much that one of the oranges in the pail belonged to her, for she +would have liked to eat one very much indeed. But they were not either +of them hers. One belonged to Bella, and the other to the baby.</p> + +<p>She walked back again to the woods, intending to return toward the +corner, by the road in which she came, but now she could not find the +entrance to it. She wandered for some time, this way and that, along +the margin of the wood, but could find no road. She, however, at +length found something which she liked better. It was a beautiful +spring of cool water, bubbling up from between the rocks on the side +of a little hill. She sat down by the side of this spring, took off +the cover from her little pail, took out the oranges and laid them +down carefully in a little nook where they would not roll away, and +then using the pail for a dipper, she dipped up some water, and had an +excellent drink.</p> + +<p>"What a good spring this is!" said she to herself. "It is as good as +Mary Erskine's."</p> + +<p>It was the time of the year in which raspberries were ripe, and Mary +Bell, in looking around her from her seat near the spring, saw at +a distance a place which appeared as if there were raspberry bushes +growing there.</p> + +<p>"I verily believe that there are some raspberries," said she. "I will +go and see; if I could only find plenty of raspberries, it would be +all that I should want."</p> + +<p>The bushes proved to be raspberry bushes, as Mary had supposed, and +she found them loaded with fruit. She ate of them abundantly, and was +very much refreshed. She would have filled her pail besides, so as +to have some to take along with her, but she had no place to put the +oranges, except within the pail.</p> + +<p>It was now about noon; the sun was hot, and Mary Bell began to be +pretty tired. She wished that they would come for her. She climbed up +upon a large log which lay among the bushes, and called as loud as she +could,</p> + +<p>"<i>Mary Erskine! Mary Erskine!</i>"</p> + +<p>Then after pausing a moment, and listening in vain for an answer, she +renewed her call,</p> + + +<p>"<i>Thom—as! Thom—as!</i>"</p> + +<p>Then again, after another pause,</p> + +<p>"<i>Jo—seph! Jo—seph!</i>"</p> + + +<p>She listened a long time, but heard nothing except the singing of the +birds, and the sighing of the wind upon the tops of the trees in the +neighboring forests.</p> + +<p>She began to feel very anxious and very lonely. She descended from the +log, and walked along till she got out of the bushes. She came to a +place where there were rocks, with smooth surfaces of moss and grass +among them. She found a shady place among these rocks, and sat down +upon the moss. She laid her head down upon her arm and began to weep +bitterly.</p> + +<p>Presently she raised her head again, and endeavored to compose +herself, saying,</p> + +<p>"But I must not cry. I must be patient, and wait till they come. I am +very tired, but I must not go to sleep, for then I shall not hear +them when they come. I will lay my head down, but I will keep my eyes +open."</p> + +<p>She laid her head down accordingly upon a mossy mound, and +notwithstanding her resolution to keep her eyes open, in ten minutes +she was fast asleep.</p> + +<p>She slept very soundly for more than two hours. She was a little +frightened when she awoke, to find that she had been sleeping, and she +started up and climbed along upon a rock which was near by, until she +gained a projecting elevation, and here she began to listen again.</p> + +<p>She heard the distant tinkling of a bell.</p> + +<p>"Hark," said she. "I hear a bell. It is out <i>that</i> way. I wonder +what it is. I will go there and see."</p> + +<p>So taking up her pail very carefully, she walked along in the +direction where she had heard the bell. She stopped frequently to +listen. Sometimes she could hear it, and sometimes she could not. +She, however, steadily persevered, though she encountered a great many +obstacles on the way. Sometimes there were wet places, which it was +very hard to get round. At other times, there were dense thickets, +which she had to scramble through, or rocks over which she had to +climb, either up or down. The sound, however, of the bell, came nearer +and nearer.</p> + +<p>"I verily believe," said she at length, "that it is Queen Bess."</p> + +<p>Queen Bess was one of Mary Erskine's cows.</p> + +<p>The idea that the sound which she was following might possibly be +Queen Bess's bell, gave her great courage. She was well acquainted +with Queen Bess, having often gone out to see Mary Erskine milk +her, with the other cows. She had even tried many times to milk her +herself, Mary Erskine having frequently allowed her to milk enough, in +a mug, to provide herself with a drink.</p> + +<p>"I hope it is Queen Bess," said Mary Bell. "She knows me, and she will +give me a drink of her milk, I am sure."</p> + +<p>Mary Bell proved to be right in her conjecture. It was Queen Bess. She +was feeding very quietly, Mary Erskine's other cows being near, some +cropping the grass and some browsing upon the bushes. Queen Bess +raised her head and looked at Mary Bell with a momentary feeling of +astonishment, wondering how she came there, and then put down her head +again and resumed her feeding.</p> + +<p>"Now," said Mary Bell, "I shall certainly get home again, for I shall +stay with you until Thomas comes up after the cows. He will find you +by your bell. And now I am going to put these oranges down upon the +grass, and milk some milk into this pail."</p> + +<p>So Mary Bell put the oranges in a safe place upon the grass, and then +went cautiously up to the side of the cow, and attempted to milk +her. But it is very difficult to milk a cow while she is grazing in +a pasture. She is not inclined to stand still, but advances all the +time, slowly, step by step, making it very difficult to do any thing +at milking. Mary Bell, however, succeeded very well. She was so +thirsty that she did not wait to get a great deal at a time, but as +soon as she had two or three spoonfuls in the pail, she stopped to +drink it. In this manner, by dint of a great deal of labor and pains, +she succeeded, in about a quarter of an hour, in getting as much as +she wanted.</p> + +<p class="pic-centre"> +<a name="pic07" id="pic07" /> +<img src="images/pic0007.jpg" width="500" height="457" alt="An engraving of Mary Bell and Queen Bess." title="Mary Bell and Queen Bess." /> +</p> + +<p>She remained in company with the cows all the afternoon. Sometimes she +would wander from them a little way to gather raspberries, and then +she would creep up cautiously to Queen Bess, and get another drink of +milk. When she had thus had as many raspberries, and as much milk, as +she wished, she amused herself for some time in gathering a bouquet +of wild flowers to give to Mary Erskine on her return. The time, being +thus filled up with useful occupation, passed pleasantly and rapidly +along, and at length, when the sun was nearly ready to go down, she +heard a distant voice shouting to the cows. It was Thomas, coming to +drive them home.</p> + +<p>Thomas was of course greatly astonished to find Mary Bell in the +woods, and his astonishment was not at all diminished at hearing her +story. He offered to carry her, in going home,—but she said that +she was not tired, and could walk as well as not. So they went down +together, the cows running along before them in the paths. When they +reached the house, Thomas went to turn the cows into the yard, while +Mary Bell went into the house to Mary Erskine, with her little pail in +one hand, and her bouquet of flowers in the other.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3><a name="CHAPTER_VII" id="CHAPTER_VII" />CHAPTER VII.<br /><br />HOUSE-KEEPING.</h3> + + +<p>One of the greatest pleasures which Mary Bell enjoyed, in her visits +at Mary Erskine's at this period, was to assist in the house-keeping. +She was particularly pleased with being allowed to help in getting +breakfast or tea, and in setting the table.</p> + +<p>She rose accordingly very early on the morning after her arrival +there from the woods, as described in the last chapter, and put on +the working-dress which Mary Erskine had made for her, and which was +always kept at the farm. This was not the working-dress which was +described in a preceding chapter as the one which Mary Bell used to +play in, when out among the stumps. Her playing among the stumps was +two or three years before the period which we are now describing. +During those two or three years, Mary Bell had wholly outgrown her +first working-dress, and her mind had become improved and enlarged, +and her tastes matured more rapidly even than her body had grown.</p> + +<p>She now no longer took any pleasure in dabbling in the brook, or +planting potatoes in the sand,—or in heating sham ovens in stumps and +hollow trees. She had begun to like realities. To bake a real cake for +breakfast or tea, to set a real table with real cups and saucers, for +a real and useful purpose, or to assist Mary Erskine in the care of +the children, or in making the morning arrangements in the room, gave +her more pleasure than any species of child's play could possibly +do. When she went out now, she liked to be dressed neatly, and take +pleasant walks, to see the views or to gather flowers. In a word, +though she was still in fact a child, she began to have in some degree +the tastes and feelings of a woman.</p> + +<p>"What are you going to have for breakfast?" said Mary Bell to Mary +Erskine, while they were getting up.</p> + +<p>"What should you like?" asked Mary Erskine in reply.</p> + +<p>"Why I should like some roast potatoes, and a spider cake," said Mary +Bell.</p> + +<p>The spider cake received its name from being baked before the fire +in a flat, iron vessel, called a spider. The spider was so called +probably, because, like the animal of that name, it had several legs +and a great round body. The iron spider, however, unlike its living +namesake, had a long straight tail, which, extending out behind, +served for a handle.</p> + +<p>The spider cake being very tender and nice, and coming as it usually +did, hot upon the table, made a most excellent breakfast,—though this +was not the principal reason which led Mary Bell to ask for it. She +liked to <i>make</i> the spider cake; for Mary Erskine, after mixing +and preparing the material, used to allow Mary Bell to roll it out to +its proper form, and put it into the spider. Then more than all the +rest, Mary Bell liked to <i>bake</i> a spider cake. She used to +take great pleasure in carrying the cake in her two hands to the +fire-place, and laying it carefully in its place in the spider, and +then setting it up before the fire to bake, lifting the spider by +the end of the tail. She also took great satisfaction afterward in +watching it, as the surface which was presented toward the fire became +browned by the heat. When it was sufficiently baked upon one side it +had to be turned, and then set up before the fire again, to be baked +on the other side; and every part of the long operation was always +watched by Mary Bell with great interest and pleasure.</p> + +<p>Mary Erskine consented to Mary Bell's proposal in respect to +breakfast, and for an hour Mary Bell was diligently employed in making +the preparations.</p> + +<p class="pic-centre"> +<a name="pic08" id="pic08" /> +<img src="images/pic0008.jpg" width="500" height="484" alt="An engraving of Mary Bell making breakfast." title="Mary Bell getting breakfast." /> +</p> + +<p>She put the potatoes in the bed which Mary Erskine opened for them in +the ashes. She rolled out the spider cake, and put it into the spider; +she spread the cloth upon the table, and took down the plates, and +the cups and saucers from the cupboard, and set them in order on the +table. She went down into the little cellar to bring up the butter. +She skimmed a pan of milk to get the cream, she measured out the tea; +and at last, when all else was ready, she took a pitcher and went +down to the spring to bring up a pitcher of cool water. In all these +operations Bella accompanied her, always eager to help, and Mary Bell, +knowing that it gave Bella great pleasure to have something to do, +called upon her, continually, for her aid, and allowed her to do +every thing that it was safe to entrust to her. Thus they went on very +happily together.</p> + +<p>At length, when the breakfast was ready they all sat down around the +table to eat it, except the baby. He remained in the trundle-bed, +playing with his play-things. His play-things consisted of three or +four smooth pebble stones of different colors, each being of about the +size of an egg, which his mother had chosen for him out of the +brook, and also of a short piece of bright iron chain. The chain was +originally a part of a harness, but the harness had become worn out, +and Albert had brought in the chain and given it to the baby. The baby +liked these play-things very much indeed,—both the pebbles and the +chain. When he was well, and neither hungry nor sleepy, he was never +tired of playing with them,—trying to bite them, and jingling them +together.</p> + +<p>"Now," said Mary Erskine to the children, as they were sitting at the +table, at the close of the breakfast, and after Thomas had gone away, +"you may go out and play for an hour while I finish my morning work, +and put the baby to sleep, and then I want you to come in and have a +school."</p> + +<p>"Who shall be the teacher?" said Mary Bell.</p> + +<p>"You shall be <i>one</i>," said Mary Erskine.</p> + +<p>"Are you going to have two teachers?" asked Mary Bell. "If you do, +then we can't have any scholars;—for the baby is not old enough to go +to school."</p> + +<p>"I know it," said Mary Erskine, "but we can have three scholars +without him."</p> + +<p>"Who shall they be?" asked Mary Bell.</p> + +<p>"You and I, and Bella," answered Mary Erskine. "I will tell you what +my plan is. I expect that I shall conclude to stay here, and live in +this house alone for some years to come, and the children can not go +to school, for there is now nobody to take them, and it is too far for +them to go alone. I must teach them myself at home, or else they can +not learn. I am very sorry indeed now that I did not learn to read and +write when I was a child: for that would have saved me the time and +trouble of learning now. But I think I <i>can</i> learn now. Don't you +think I can, Mary?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, indeed," said Mary Bell, "I am sure you can. It is very easy +to read."</p> + +<p>"I am going to try," continued Mary Erskine, "and so I want you to +teach me. And while you are teaching me, Bella may as well begin at +the same time. So that you will have two scholars."</p> + +<p>"Three—you said three scholars," rejoined Mary Bell.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Mary Erskine. "You shall be the third scholar. I am going +to teach you to draw."</p> + +<p>"Do you know how to draw?" asked Mary Bell, surprised.</p> + +<p>"No," said Mary Erskine, "but I can show <i>you</i> how to learn."</p> + +<p>"Well," said Mary Bell, "I should like to learn to draw very much +indeed. Though I don't see how any body can teach a thing unless they +can do it themselves."</p> + +<p>"Sometimes they can," said Mary Erskine. "A man may teach a horse to +canter, without being able to canter himself."</p> + +<p>Mary Bell laughed at the idea of a man attempting to canter, and said +that she should be very glad to try to learn to draw. Mary Erskine +then said that after they had finished their breakfast the children +might go out an hour to walk and play, and that then when they should +come in, they would find every thing ready for the school.</p> + +<p>Mary Bell concluded to take a walk about the farm during the time +which they were allowed to spend in play, before the school was to +begin. So she and Bella put on their bonnets, and bidding Mary Erskine +good morning, they sallied forth. As they came out at the great stoop +door their attention was arrested by the sound of a cow-bell. The +sound seemed to come from the barn-yard.</p> + +<p>"Ah," said Mary Bell, "there is Queen Bess going to pasture this +morning. How glad I was to see her yesterday in the woods! Let us go +and see her now."</p> + +<p>So saying she led the way around the corner of the house, by a +pleasant path through the high grass that was growing in the yard, +toward the barns. Bella followed her. They passed through a gate, then +across a little lane, then through a gate on the other side of the +lane, which led into the barn-yards. The barns, like the house, were +built of logs, but they were very neatly made, and the yards around +them were at this season of the year dry and green.</p> + +<p>Mary and Bella walked on across the barn-yard until they got to the +back side of the barn, when they found Thomas turning the cows into a +little green lane which led to the pasture. It was not very far to the +pasture bars, and so Mary Bell proposed that they should go and help +Thomas drive the cows. They accordingly went on, but they had not gone +far before they came to a brook, which here flowed across the lane. +The cows walked directly through the brook, while Thomas got across it +by stepping over some stones at one side. Mary Bell thought that the +spaces were a little too wide for Bella to jump over, so she concluded +not to go any farther in that direction.</p> + +<p>Bella then proposed that they should go and see the new house. This +Mary Bell thought would be an excellent plan if Bella's mother would +give them leave. They accordingly went in to ask her. They found her +in the back stoop, employed in straining the milk which Thomas had +brought in. She was straining it into great pans. She said that she +should like to have the children go and see the new house very much +indeed, and she gave them the key, so that they might go into it. The +children took the key and went across the fields by a winding path +until they came out into the main road again, near the new house. The +house was in a very pleasant place indeed. There was a green yard in +front of it, and a place for a garden at one side. At the other side +was a wide yard open to the road, so that persons could ride up to the +door without the trouble of opening any gate. The children walked up +this open yard.</p> + +<p>They went to the door, intending to unlock it with their key, but they +were surprised to find that there was not any key hole. Mary Bell said +that she supposed the key hole was not made yet. They tried to open +the door, but they could not succeed. It was obviously fastened on the +inside.</p> + +<p>"Now how can we get in?" said Bella.</p> + +<p>"I don't see," replied Mary Bell, "and I can't think how they locked +the door without any key-hole."</p> + +<p>"Could not we climb in at one of the windows?" said Mary Bell,—"only +they are so high up!"</p> + +<p>The children looked around at the windows. They were all too high +from the ground for them to reach. There was, however, a heap of short +blocks and boards which the carpenters had left in the yard near the +house, and Mary Bell said that perhaps they could build up a "climbing +pile" with them, so as to get in at a window. She accordingly went to +this heap, and by means of considerable exertion and toil she rolled +two large blocks—the ends of sticks of timber which the carpenters +had sawed off in framing the house—up under the nearest window. +She placed these blocks, which were about two feet long, at a little +distance apart under the window, with one end of each block against +the house. She then, with Bella's help, got some short boards from +the pile, and placed them across these blocks from one to the other, +making a sort of a flooring.</p> + +<p>"There," said Mary Bell, looking at the work with great satisfaction, +"that is <i>one</i> story."</p> + +<p>Then she brought two more blocks, and laid them upon the flooring over +the first two, placing the second pair of blocks, like the first, at +right angles to the house, and with the ends close against it to +keep them steady. On these blocks she laid a second flooring of short +boards, which made the second story. She then stepped up upon the +staging which she had thus built, to see if it was steady. It was very +steady indeed.</p> + +<p>"Let <i>me</i> get up on it," said Bella.</p> + +<p>Bella accordingly climbed up, and she and Mary Bell danced upon it +together in great glee for some time to show how steady it was.</p> + +<p>Mary Bell then attempted to open the window. She found that she could +open it a little way, but not far enough to get in. So she said that +she must make one more "story." They then both went back to the pile, +and got two more blocks and another board to lay across upon the top +of them for a flooring, and when these were placed, Mary Bell found +that she could raise the window very high. She got a long stick to put +under it to hold it up, and then tried to climb in.</p> + +<p>She found, however, that the window sill over which she was to climb +was still rather too high; but, at length, after various consultations +and experiments, <i>Bella</i> succeeded in getting up by means of the +help which Mary Bell, who was large and strong, gave her, by "boosting +her," as she called it, that is, pushing her up from below while she +climbed by means of her arms clasped over the window sill above. Bella +being thus in the house, took the key, which Mary Bell handed her for +the purpose, and went along to the entry to unlock the door, while +Mary Bell, stepping down from the scaffolding, went to the door on the +outside, ready to enter when it should be opened. The children had no +doubt that there was a key-hole in the lock on the inside, although +there was none made in the door on the outside.</p> + +<p>When, however, Bella reached the door on the inside, she called out +to Mary Bell, through the door, to say that she could not find any +key-hole.</p> + +<p>"It is in the lock," said Mary Bell.</p> + +<p>"But there is not any lock," said Bella.</p> + +<p>"Is not there any thing?" asked Mary Bell.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Bella, "there is a bolt."</p> + +<p>"Oh, very well, then, open the bolt," replied Mary Bell.</p> + +<p>After a great deal of tugging and pushing at the bolt, Bella succeeded +in getting it back, but even then the door would not come open. It +was new, and it fitted very tight. Bella said that Mary Bell must push +from the outside, while she held up the latch. Mary Bell accordingly +pushed with all her force, and at length the door flew open, and to +their great joy they found themselves both fairly admitted to the +house.</p> + +<p>They rambled about for some time, looking at the different rooms, +and at the various conveniences for house-keeping which Albert had +planned, and which were all just ready for use when Albert had died. +There was a sink in the kitchen, with a little spout leading into it, +from which the water was running in a constant stream. It came from +an aqueduct of logs brought under ground. There was a tin dipper there +upon the top of the post which the water-spout came out of, and Mary +Bell and Bella had an excellent drink from it the first thing. The +kitchen floor was covered with shavings, and the children played in +them for some time, until they were tired. Then they went and got +another drink.</p> + +<p>When they at last got tired of the kitchen, they went to a window at +the back side of the sitting-room, which looked out toward the garden, +and commanded also a beautiful prospect beyond. They opened this +window in order to see the garden better. A fresh and delightful +breeze came in immediately, which the children enjoyed very much. +The breeze, however, in drawing through the house, shut all the doors +which the children had left open, with a loud noise, and then having +no longer any egress, it ceased to come in. The air seemed suddenly to +become calm; the children stood for some time at the window, looking +out at the garden, and at the pond, and the mountains beyond.</p> + +<p>At length they shut the window again, and went to the door at which +they had entered, and found it shut fast. They could not open it, +for there was now no one to push upon the outside. Mary Bell laughed. +Bella looked very much frightened.</p> + +<p>"What shall we do?" said she. "We can't get out."</p> + +<p>"Oh, don't be afraid," said Mary Bell, "we will get out some way or +other."</p> + +<p>She then tried again to open the door, exerting all her strength in +pulling upon the latch, but all in vain. They were finally obliged to +give up the attempt as utterly hopeless.</p> + +<p>Mary Bell then led the way to the window where Bella had got in, and +looked out upon the little scaffolding. It looked as if the window was +too high above the scaffolding for them to get down there safely. One +of them might, perhaps, have succeeded in descending, if the other had +been outside to help her down; but as it was, Mary Bell herself did +not dare to make the attempt.</p> + +<p>"I will tell you what we will do," said Mary Bell. "We will go to +another window where there are no blocks below, and throw all the +shavings out from the kitchen. That will make a soft bed for us to +jump upon."</p> + +<p>"Well," said Bella, "let us do that."</p> + +<p>So they went to the kitchen, and opening one of the windows, they +began to gather up the shavings in their arms from off the floor, and +to throw them out. They worked very industriously at this undertaking +for a long time, until the kitchen floor was entirely cleared. They +picked out carefully all the sticks, and blocks, and pieces of board +which were mixed with the shavings, before throwing them out, in order +that there might be nothing hard in the heap which they were to jump +upon. When the work was completed, and all the shavings were out, they +went to the window, and leaning over the sill, they looked down.</p> + +<p>"I wish we had some more shavings," said Mary Bell.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Bella, "that is too far to jump down. We can't get out any +way at all." So saying, she began to cry.</p> + +<p>"Don't cry, Bella," said Mary Bell, in a soothing tone. "It is no +matter if we can't get out, for your mother knows that we came here, +and if we don't come home in an hour, she will come for us and let us +out."</p> + +<p>"But perhaps there is a ladder somewhere," added Mary Bell, after a +short pause. "Perhaps we can find a ladder that the carpenters have +left somewhere about. If there is, we can put it out the window, and +then climb down upon it. Let us go and look."</p> + +<p>"Well," said Bella, "so we will."</p> + +<p>The two children accordingly set off on an exploring tour to find a +ladder. Mary Bell went toward the front part of the house, and Bella +into the back kitchen. They looked not only in the rooms, but also in +the passage-ways and closets, and in every corner where a ladder could +possibly be hid. At length, just as Mary Bell was going up the stairs, +in order to look into the little attic chambers, she heard Bella +calling out from the back part of the house, in a tone of voice +expressive of great exultation and joy.</p> + +<p>"She has found the ladder," said Mary Bell, and leaving the stairs she +went to meet her.</p> + +<p>She found Bella running through the kitchen toward the entry where +Mary Bell was, calling out with great appearance of delight,</p> + +<p>"I've found the key-hole, Mary Bell! I've found the key-hole!"</p> + +<p>This was indeed true. The lock to which the key that Mary Erskine +had given the children belonged, was upon the <i>back</i> door, the +principal door of the house being fastened by a bolt. Mary Bell went +to the back door, and easily opened it by means of the key. Glad to +discover this mode of escape from their thraldom, the children ran +out, and capered about upon the back stoop in great glee. Presently +they went in again and shut all the windows which they had opened, +and then came out, locking the door after them, and set out on their +return home.</p> + +<p>When they arrived, they found that Mary Erskine had got every thing +ready for the school.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3><a name="CHAPTER_VIII" id="CHAPTER_VIII" />CHAPTER VIII.<br /><br />THE SCHOOL.</h3> + + +<p>Good teachers and proper conveniences for study, tend very much, it +is true, to facilitate the progress of pupils in all attempts for +the acquisition of knowledge. But where these advantages cannot be +enjoyed, it is astonishing how far a little ingenuity, and resolution, +and earnestness, on the part of the pupil, will atone for the +deficiency. No child need ever be deterred from undertaking any +study adapted to his years and previous attainments, for want of +the necessary implements or apparatus, or the requisite means of +instruction. The means of supplying the want of these things are +always at the command of those who are intelligent, resolute, and +determined. It is only the irresolute, the incompetent, and the +feeble-minded that are dependent for their progress on having a +teacher to show them and to urge them onward, every step of the way.</p> + +<p>When Mary Bell and Bella returned home they found that Mary Erskine +had made all the preparations necessary for the commencement of the +school. She had made a desk for the two children by means of the +ironing-board, which was a long and wide board, made very smooth on +both sides. This board Mary Erskine placed across two chairs, having +previously laid two blocks of wood upon the chairs in a line with the +back side of the board, in such a manner as to raise that side and +to cause the board to slope forward like a desk. She had placed two +stools in front of this desk for seats.</p> + +<p>Upon this desk, at one end of it, the end, namely, at which Bella was +to sit, Mary Erskine had placed a small thin board which she found in +the shop, and by the side of it a piece of chalk. This small board and +piece of chalk were to be used instead of a slate and pencil.</p> + +<p>At Mary Bell's end of the desk there was a piece of paper and a pen, +which Mary Erskine had taken out of her work-table. By the side of the +paper and pen was Bella's picture-book. This picture-book was a small +but very pretty picture-book, which Mary Bell had given to Bella for a +present on her birth-day, the year before. The picture-book looked, +as it lay upon the desk, as if it were perfectly new. Mary Erskine +had kept it very carefully in her work-table drawer, as it was the +only picture-book that Bella had. She was accustomed to take it out +sometimes in the evening, and show the pictures to Bella, one by one, +explaining them at the same time, so far as she could guess at the +story from the picture itself, for neither she herself, nor Bella, +could understand a word of the reading. On these occasions Mary +Erskine never allowed Bella to touch the book, but always turned over +the leaves herself, and that too in a very careful manner, so as to +preserve it in its original condition, smooth, fresh, and unsullied.</p> + +<p>Mary Bell and Bella looked at the desk which Mary Erskine had prepared +for them, and liked it very much indeed.</p> + +<p>"But where are <i>you</i> going to study?" asked Mary Bell.</p> + +<p>"I shall study at my work-table, but not now. I can't study until the +evening. I have my work to do, all the day, and so I shall not begin +my studies until the evening when you children are all gone to bed. +And besides, there is only one pen."</p> + +<p>"Oh, but you will not want the pen," said Mary Bell. "You are going to +learn to read."</p> + +<p>"No," said Mary Erskine. "I am going to learn to write first."</p> + +<p>"Not <i>first</i>," said Mary Bell. "We always learn to <i>read</i>, +before we learn to write."</p> + +<p>"But I am going to learn to write first," said Mary Erskine. "I have +been thinking about it, and I think that will be best. I have got +the plan all formed. I shall want you to set me a copy, and then this +evening I shall write it."</p> + +<p>"Well," said Mary Bell, "I will. The first copy must be straight +marks."</p> + +<p>"No," said Mary Erskine, "the first thing is to learn to write my +name. I shall never have any occasion to write straight marks, but I +shall want to write my name a great many times."</p> + +<p>"Oh, but you can't <i>begin</i> with writing your name," said Mary +Bell.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Mary Erskine, "I am going to begin with <i>Mary</i>: only +<i>Mary</i>. I want you to write me two copies, one with the letters +all separate, and the other with the letters together.</p> + +<p>"Well," said Mary Bell, "I will." So she sat down to her desk, taking +up her pen, she dipped it into the inkstand. The inkstand had been +placed into the chair which Mary Bell's end of the ironing-board +rested upon. It could not stand safely on the board itself as that was +sloping.</p> + +<p>Mary Bell wrote the letters M—A—R—Y, in a large plain hand upon +the top of the paper, and then in a same line she wrote them again, +joining them together in a word. Mary Erskine stood by while she +wrote, examining very attentively her method of doing the work, and +especially her way of holding the pen. When the copy was finished, +Mary Erskine cut it off from the top of the paper and pinned it up +against the side of the room, where she could look at it and study the +names of the letters in the intervals of her work during the day.</p> + +<p>"There," said she in a tone of satisfaction when this was done. "I +have got my work before me. The next thing is to give Bella hers."</p> + +<p>It was decided that Bella should pursue a different method from her +mother. She was to learn the letters of the alphabet in regular order, +taking the first two, <i>a</i> and <i>b</i>, for her first lesson. +Mary Bell made copies of those two letters for her, with the chalk, +upon the top of the board. She made these letters in the form of +printed and not written characters, because the object was to teach +Bella to read printed books.</p> + +<p>"Now," said Mary Erskine to Bella, "you must study <i>a</i> and +<i>b</i> for half an hour. I shall tell you when I think the half hour +is out. If you get tired of sitting at your desk, you may take your +board and your chalk out to the door and sit upon the step. You must +spend all the time in making the letters on the board, and you may say +<i>a</i> and <i>b</i> while you are making the letters, but besides +that you must not speak a word. For every time that you speak, except +to say <i>a</i> and <i>b</i>, after I tell you to begin, you will have +to pick up a basket of chips."</p> + +<p>Picking up baskets of chips was the common punishment that Bella was +subjected to for her childish misdemeanors. There was a bin in the +stoop, where she used to put them, and a small basket hanging up by +the side of it. The chip-yard was behind the house, and there was +always an abundant supply of chips in it, from Albert's cutting. The +basket, it is true, was quite small, and to fill it once with chips, +was but a slight punishment; but slight punishments are always +sufficient for sustaining any just and equitable government, provided +they are certain to follow transgression, and are strictly and +faithfully enforced. Bella was a very obedient and submissive child, +though she had scarcely ever been subjected to any heavier punishment +than picking up chips.</p> + +<p>"Shall I begin now?" said Bella.</p> + +<p>"No," replied her mother, "wait, if you like, till Mary Bell has taken +her lesson."</p> + +<p>"I don't see how I am going to draw," said Mary Bell, "without any +pencil."</p> + +<p>"You will have to draw with the pen," said Mary Erskine. "I am very +sorry that I have not got any pencil for you."</p> + +<p>So saying, Mary Erskine took up the picture-book, and began turning +over the leaves, to find, as she said, the picture of a house. She +should think, she said, that the picture of a house would be a good +thing to begin with.</p> + +<p>She found a view of a house in the third picture in the book. There +was a great deal in the picture besides the house, but Mary Erskine +said that the house alone should be the lesson. There was a pond near +it, with a shore, and ducks and geese swimming in the water. Then +there was a fence and a gate, and a boy coming through the gate, and +some trees. There was one large tree with a swing hanging from one of +the branches.</p> + +<p>"Now, Mary," said Mary Erskine, speaking to Mary Bell, "you may take +the house alone. First you must look at it carefully, and examine all +the little lines and marks, and see exactly how they are made. There +is the chimney, for example. See first what the shape of the outline +of it is, and look at all <i>those</i> little lines, and <i>those</i>, +and <i>those</i>," continued Mary Erskine, pointing to the different +parts of the chimney. "You must examine in the same way all the other +lines, in all the other parts of the picture, and see exactly how fine +they are, and how near together they are, so that you can imitate them +exactly. Then you must make some little dots upon your paper to mark +the length and breadth of the house, so as to get it of the right +shape; and then draw the lines and finish it all exactly as it is in +the book."</p> + +<p>Bella looked over very attentively, while her mother was explaining +these things to Mary Bell, and then said that <i>she</i> would rather +draw a house than make letters.</p> + +<p>"No," said her mother, "you must make letters."</p> + +<p>"But it is harder to make letters than it is to make a house," said +Bella.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said her mother, "I think it is."</p> + +<p>"And I think," said Bella, "that the littlest scholar ought to have +the easiest things to do."</p> + +<p>Mary Erskine laughed, and said that in schools, those things were not +done that seemed best to the scholars, but those that seemed best to +the teachers.</p> + +<p>"Then," said Mary Bell, "why must not you write marks."</p> + +<p>Mary Erskine laughed still more at this, and said she acknowledged +that the children had got her penned up in a corner.</p> + +<p>"Now," said Mary Erskine, "are you ready to begin; because when you +once begin, you must not speak a word till the half hour is out."</p> + +<p>"Yes," said the children, "we are ready."</p> + +<p>"Then <i>begin</i>," said Mary Erskine.</p> + +<p>The children began with great gravity and silence, each at her +separate task, while Mary Erskine went on with her own regular +employment. The silence continued unbroken for about five minutes, +when Bella laid down her chalk in a despairing manner, saying,</p> + +<p>"O dear me! I can't make a <i>a</i>."</p> + +<p>"There's one basket of chips," said Mary Erskine.</p> + +<p>"Why I really can't," said Bella, "I have tried three times."</p> + +<p>"Two baskets of chips," said her mother. "Make two marks on the corner +of your board," she continued, "and every time you speak put down +another, so that we can remember how many baskets of chips you have to +pick up."</p> + +<p>Bella looked rather disconsolate at receiving this direction. She +knew, however, that she must obey. She was also well aware that she +would certainly have to pick up as many baskets of chips as should +be indicated by the line of chalk marks. She, therefore, resumed her +work, inwardly resolving that she would not speak another word. All +this time, Mary Bell went on with her drawing, without apparently +paying any attention to the conversation between Bella and her mother.</p> + +<p class="pic-centre"> +<a name="pic09" id="pic09" /> +<img src="images/pic0009.jpg" width="500" height="470" alt="An engraving of the school." title="The School." /> +</p> + +<p>Bella went on, too, herself after this, very attentively, making the +letters which had been assigned her for her lesson, and calling the +names of them as she made them, but not speaking any words.</p> + +<p>At length Mary Erskine told the children that the half hour had +expired, and that they were at liberty. Bella jumped up and ran away +to play. Mary Bell wished to remain and finish her house. Mary Erskine +went to look at it. She compared it very attentively with the original +in the picture-book, and observed several places in which Mary Bell +had deviated from her pattern. She did not, however, point out any of +these faults to Mary Bell, but simply said that she had done her work +very well indeed. She had made a very pretty house. Mary Bell said +that it was not quite finished, and she wished to remain at her desk a +little longer to complete it. Mary Erskine gave her leave to do so.</p> + +<p>Bella, who had gone away at first, dancing to the door, pleased to be +released from her confinement, came back to see Mary Bell's picture, +while her mother was examining it. She seemed very much pleased with +it indeed. Then she asked her mother to look at her letters upon the +board. Mary Erskine and Mary Bell both looked at them, one by one, +very attentively, and compared them with the letters which Mary Bell +had made for patterns, and also with specimens of the letters in the +books. Bella took great interest in looking for the letters in the +book, much pleased to find that she knew them wherever she saw them. +Her mother, too, learned <i>a</i> and <i>b</i> very effectually by +this examination of Bella's work. Mary Erskine selected the two best +letters which Bella had made, one of each kind, and rubbed out all the +rest with a cloth. She then put up the board in a conspicuous place +upon a shelf, where the two good letters could be seen by all in the +room. Bella was much pleased at this, and she came in from her play +several times in the course of the day, to look at her letters and to +call them by name.</p> + +<p>When Bella's board had thus been put up in its conspicuous position, +Mary Bell sat down to finish her drawing, while Bella went out to +pick up her two baskets of chips. Mary Bell worked upon her house for +nearly the whole of another half hour. When it was finished she cut +the part of the paper which it was drawn upon off from the rest, and +ruled around it a neat margin of double black lines. She obtained a +narrow strip of wood, from the shop which served her as a ruler. She +said that she meant to have all her drawing lessons of the same size, +and to put the same margin around them. She marked her house No. 1, +writing the numbering in a small but plain hand on one corner. She +wrote the initials of her, name, M.B., in the same small hand, on the +opposite corner.</p> + +<p>Mary Erskine did not attempt <i>her</i> lesson until the evening. She +finished her work about the house a little after eight o'clock, and +then she undressed the children and put them to bed. By this time it +was nearly nine o'clock. The day had been warm and pleasant, but the +nights at this season were cool, and Mary Erskine put two or three dry +sticks upon the fire, before she commenced her work, partly for the +warmth, and partly for the cheerfulness of the blaze.</p> + +<p>She lighted her lamp, and sat down at her work-table, with Mary Bell's +copy, and her pen, ink, and paper, before her. The copy had been +pinned up in sight all the day, and she had very often examined it, +when passing it, in going to and fro at her work. She had thus learned +the names of all the letters in the word Mary, and had made herself +considerably familiar with the forms of them; so that she not only +knew exactly what she had to do in writing the letters, but she felt a +strong interest in doing it. She, however, made extremely awkward +work in her first attempts at writing the letters. She, nevertheless, +steadily persevered. She wrote the words, first in separate letters, +and then afterwards in a joined hand, again and again, going down the +paper. She found that she could write a little more easily, if not +better, as she proceeded,—but still the work was very hard. At ten +o'clock her paper was covered with what she thought were miserable +scrawls, and her wrist and her fingers ached excessively. She put her +work away, and prepared to go to bed.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps I shall have to give it up after all," said she. "But I will +not give up till I am beaten. I will write an hour every day for six +months, and then if I can not write my name so that people can read +it, I will stop."</p> + +<p>The next day about an hour after breakfast Mary Erskine had another +school for the children. Bella took the two next letters <i>c</i> and +<i>d</i> for her lesson, while Mary Bell took the swing hanging from +the branch of the tree in the picture-book, for the subject of her +second drawing. Before beginning her work, she studied all the touches +by which the drawing was made in the book, with great attention and +care, in order that she might imitate them as precisely as possible. +She succeeded very well indeed in this second attempt. The swing made +even a prettier picture than the house. When it was finished she cut +the paper out, of the same size with the other, drew a border around +it, and marked it No. 2. She went on in this manner every day as long +as she remained at Mary Erskine's, drawing a new picture every day. +At last, when she went home, Mary Erskine put all her drawings up +together, and Mary Bell carried them home to show them to her mother. +This was the beginning of Mary Bell's drawing.</p> + +<p>As for Mary Erskine, her second lesson was the word <i>Erskine</i>, +which she found a great deal harder to write than Mary. There was one +thing, however, that pleased her in it, which was that there was one +letter which she knew already, having learned it in Mary: that was the +<i>r</i>. All the rest of the letters, however, were new, and she had +to practice writing the word two evenings before she could write it +well, without looking at the copy. She then thought that probably by +that time she had forgotten <i>Mary</i>; but on trying to write that +word, she was very much pleased to find that she could write it +much more easily than she could before. This encouraged her, and she +accordingly took Forester for her third lesson without any fear of +forgetting the Mary and the Erskine.</p> + +<p>The Forester lesson proved to be a very easy one. There were only +three new letters in it, and those three were very easy to write. In +fine, at the end of the four days, when Mary Bell was to go home, Mary +Erskine could read, write, and spell her name very respectably well.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Bell came herself for Mary when the time of her visit expired. +She was very much pleased to learn how good a girl and how useful her +daughter had been. She was particularly pleased with her drawings. She +said that she had been very desirous to have Mary learn to draw, but +that she did not know it was possible to make so good a beginning +without a teacher.</p> + +<p>"Why I <i>had</i> a teacher," said Mary Bell. "I think that Mary +Erskine is a teacher; and a very good one besides."</p> + +<p>"I think so too," said Mrs. Bell.</p> + +<p>The children went out to get some wild flowers for Mary Bell to carry +home, and Mrs. Bell then asked Mary if she had begun to consider what +it was best for her to do.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Mary Erskine. "I think it will be best for me to sell +the farm, and the new house, and all the stock, and live here in this +house with my children."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Bell did not answer, but seemed to be thinking whether this would +be the best plan or not.</p> + +<p>"The children cannot go to school from here," said Mrs. Bell.</p> + +<p>"No," said Mary Erskine, "but I can teach them myself, I think, till +they are old enough to walk to the school-house. I find that I can +learn the letters faster than Bella can, and that without interfering +with my work; and Mary Bell will come out here now and then and tell +us what we don't know."</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Mrs. Bell, "I shall be glad to have her come as often +as you wish. But it seems to me that you had better move into the +village. Half the money that the farm and the stock will sell for, +will buy you a very pleasant house in the village, and the interest +on the other half, together with what you can earn, will support you +comfortably."</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Mary Erskine, "but then I should be growing poorer, rather +than richer, all the time; and when my children grow large, and I want +the money for them, I shall find that I have spent it all. Now if I +stay here in this house, I shall have no rent to pay, nor shall I lose +the interest of a part of my money, as I should if I were to buy a +house in the village with it to live in myself. I can earn enough here +too by knitting, and by spinning and weaving, for all that we shall +want while the children are young. I can keep a little land with this +house, and let Thomas, or some other such boy live with me, and raise +such things as we want to eat; and so I think I can get along very +well, and put out all the money which I get from the farm and the +stock, at interest. In ten or fifteen years it will be two thousand +dollars. Then I shall be rich, and can move into the village without +any danger.</p> + +<p>"Not two thousand dollars!" said Mrs. Bell.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Mary Erskine, "if I have calculated it right."</p> + +<p>"Why, how much do you think the farm and stock will sell for?" asked +Mrs. Bell.</p> + +<p>"About eight hundred dollars," said Mary Erskine. "That put out at +interest will double in about twelve years."</p> + +<p>"Very well," rejoined Mrs. Bell, "but that makes only sixteen hundred +dollars."</p> + +<p>"But then I think that I can lay up half a dollar a week of my own +earnings, especially when Bella gets a little bigger so as to help me +about the house," said Mary Erskine.</p> + +<p>"Well;" said Mrs. Bell.</p> + +<p>"That," continued Mary Erskine, "will be twenty-five dollars a year. +Which will be at least three hundred dollars in twelve years."</p> + +<p>"Very well," said Mrs. Bell, "that makes nineteen hundred."</p> + +<p>"Then," continued Mary Erskine, "I thought that at the end of the +twelve years I should be able to sell this house and the land around +it for a hundred dollars, especially if I take good care of the +buildings in the mean while."</p> + +<p>"And that makes your two thousand dollars," said Mrs. Bell.</p> + +<p>"Yes," replied Mary Erskine.</p> + +<p>"But suppose you are sick."</p> + +<p>"Oh, if I am sick, or if I die," rejoined Mary Erskine, "of course +that breaks up all my plans. I know I can't plan against calamities."</p> + +<p>"Well," said Mrs. Bell, rising from her seat with a smile of +satisfaction upon her countenance, "I can't advise you. But if ever I +get into any serious trouble, I shall come to you to advise me."</p> + +<p>So bidding Mary Erskine good-bye, Mrs. Bell called her daughter, and +they went together toward their home.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3><a name="CHAPTER_IX" id="CHAPTER_IX" />CHAPTER IX.<br /><br />GOOD MANAGEMENT.</h3> + + +<p>Whenever any person dies, leaving property to be divided among +his heirs, and not leaving any valid will to determine the mode of +division, the property as has already been said, must be divided on +certain principles, established by the law of the land, and under +the direction of the Judge of Probate, who has jurisdiction over +the county in which the property is situated. The Judge of Probate +appoints a person to take charge of the property and divide it among +the heirs. This person is called the administrator, or, if a +woman, the administratrix. The Judge gives the administrator or the +administratrix a paper, which authorises him or her to take charge of +the property, which paper is called, "Letters of Administration." +The letters of administration are usually granted to the wife of the +deceased, or to his oldest son, or, if there is no wife or son, to the +nearest heir who is of proper age and discretion to manage the trust. +The person who receives administration is obliged to take a solemn +oath before the Judge of Probate, that he will report to the Judge a +full account of all the property that belonged to the deceased which +shall come to his knowledge. The Judge also appoints three persons to +go and examine the property, and make an inventory of it, and appraise +every article, so as to know as nearly as possible, how much and what +property there is. These persons are called appraisers. The inventory +which they make out is lodged in the office of the Judge of Probate, +where any person who has an interest in the estate can see it at any +time. The administrator usually keeps a copy of the inventory besides.</p> + +<p>If among the property left by a person deceased, which is to go in +part to children, there are any houses and lands,—a kind of property +which is called in law <i>real estate</i>, to distinguish it from +moveable property, which is called <i>personal estate</i>,—such +real estate cannot be sold, in ordinary cases, by the administrator, +without leave from the Judge of Probate. This leave the Judge of +Probate will give in cases where it is clearly best for the children +that the property should be so sold and the <i>avails of it</i> kept +for them, rather than the property itself. All these things Mrs. Bell +explained to Mary Erskine, having learned about them herself some +years before when her own husband died.</p> + +<p>Accordingly, a few weeks after Albert died, Mary Erskine went one +day in a wagon, taking the baby with her, and Thomas to drive, to the +county town, where the Probate court was held.</p> + +<p class="pic-centre"> +<a name="pic10" id="pic10" /> +<img src="images/pic0010.jpg" width="500" height="470" alt="An engraving of Mary Erskine going to court." title="Going to court." /> +</p> + +<p>At the Probate court, Mary Erskine made all the arrangements necessary +in respect to the estate. She had to go twice, in fact, before all +these arrangements were completed. She expected to have a great deal +of trouble and embarrassment in doing this business, but she did not +find that there was any trouble at all. The Judge of Probate told her +exactly what to do. She was required to sign her name once or twice +to papers. This she did with great trepidation, and after writing her +name, on the first occasion which occurred requiring her signature, +she apologized for not being able to write any better. The Judge of +Probate said that very few of the papers that he received were signed +so well.</p> + +<p>Mary Erskine was appointed administratrix, and the Judge gave her +a paper which he said was her "Letters of Administration." What the +Judge gave to her seemed to be only one paper, but she thought it +probable, as the Judge said "Letters" that there was another inside. +When she got home, however, and opened the paper she found that there +was only one. She could not read it herself, her studies having yet +extended no farther than to the writing of her name. The first time, +however, that Mary Bell came to see her, after she received this +document, she asked Mary Bell to read it to her. Mary Bell did so, +but after she had got through, Mary Erskine said that she could not +understand one word of it from beginning to end. Mary Bell said that +that was not strange, for she believed that lawyers' papers were only +meant for lawyers to understand.</p> + +<p>The appraisers came about this time to make an inventory of the +property. They went all over the house and barns, and took a complete +account of every thing that they found. They made a list of all the +oxen, sheep, cows, horses, and other animals, putting down opposite +to each one, their estimate of its value. They did the same with the +vehicles, and farming implements, and utensils, and also with all +the household furniture, and the provisions and stores. When they had +completed the appraisement they added up the amount, and found that +the total was a little over four hundred dollars, Mary Erskine was +very much surprised to find that there was so much.</p> + +<p>The appraisers then told Mary Erskine that half of that property was +hers, and the other half belonged to the children; and that as much of +their half as was necessary for their support could be used for that +purpose, and the rest must be paid over to them when they became of +age. They said also that she or some one else must be appointed their +guardian, to take care of their part of the property; and that the +guardian could either keep the property as it was, or sell it and +keep the money as she thought would be most for the interest of the +children; and that she had the same power in respect to her own share.</p> + +<p>Mary Erskine said that she thought it would be best for her to sell +the stock and farming tools, because she could not take care of +them nor use them, and she might put the money out at interest. The +appraisers said they thought so too.</p> + +<p>In the end, Mary Erskine was appointed guardian. The idea appeared +strange to her at first of being <i>appointed</i> guardian to her own +children, as it seemed to her that a mother naturally and necessarily +held that relation to her offspring. But the meaning of the law, in +making a mother the guardian of her children by appointment in such +a case as this, is simply to authorize her to take care of +<i>property</i> left to them, or descending to them. It is obvious +that cases must frequently occur in which a mother, though the natural +guardian of her children so far as the personal care of them is +concerned, would not be properly qualified to take charge of any +considerable amount of property coming to them. When the mother is +qualified to take this charge, she can be duly authorized to do +it; and this is the appointment to the guardianship—meaning the +guardianship of the property to which the appointment refers.</p> + +<p>Mary Erskine was accordingly appointed guardian of the children, and +she obtained leave to sell the farm. She decided that it would be best +to sell it as she thought, after making diligent enquiry, that she +could not depend on receiving any considerable annual rent for it, if +she were to attempt to let it. She accordingly sold the farm, with the +new house, and all the stock,—excepting that she reserved from the +farm ten acres of land around her own house, and one cow, one horse, +two pigs, and all the poultry. She also reserved all the household +furniture. These things she took as a part of her portion. The +purchase money for all the rest amounted to nine hundred and fifty +dollars. This sum was considerably more than Mary Erskine had expected +to receive.</p> + +<p>The question now was what should be done with this money. There are +various modes which are adopted for investing such sums so as to get +an annual income from them. The money may be lent to some person who +will take it and pay interest for it. A house may be bought and let to +some one who wishes to hire it; or shares in a rail-road, or a bank, +or a bridge, may be taken. Such kinds of property as those are managed +by directors, who take care of all the profits that are made, and +twice a year divide the money among the persons that own the shares.</p> + +<p>Mary Erskine had a great deal of time for enquiry and reflection in +respect to the proper mode of investing her money, for the man who +purchased the farm and the stock was not to pay the money immediately. +The price agreed upon for the farm, including of course the new house, +was five hundred dollars. The stock, farming utensils, &c, which he +took with it, came to three hundred and sixty dollars. The purchaser +was to pay, of this money, four hundred dollars in three months, +and the balance in six months. Mary Erskine, therefore, had to make +provision for investing the four hundred dollars first.</p> + +<p>She determined, after a great deal of consideration and inquiry, to +lay out this money in buying four shares in the Franconia bridge. +These shares were originally one hundred dollars each, but the bridge +had become so profitable on account of the number of persons that +passed it, and the amount of money which was consequently collected +for tolls, that the shares would sell for a hundred and ten dollars +each. This ten dollars advance over the original price of the shares, +is called <i>premium</i>. Upon the four shares which Mary Erskine was +going to buy, the premium would be of course forty dollars. This money +Mary Erskine concluded to borrow. Mr. Keep said that he would very +gladly lend it to her. Her plan was to pay the borrowed money back out +of the dividends which she would receive from her bridge shares. The +dividend was usually five per centum, or, as they commonly called +it, <i>five per cent.</i>, that is, five dollars on every share of a +hundred dollars every six months.<sup>[A]</sup> The dividend on the four shares +would, of course, be twenty dollars, so that it would take two +dividends to pay off the forty dollar debt to Mr. Keep, besides a +little interest. When this was done, Mary Erskine would have property +in the bridge worth four hundred and forty dollars, without having +used any more than four hundred dollars of her farm money, and she +would continue to have forty dollars a year from it, as long as she +kept it in her possession.</p> + +<div class="footnote">[A] <i>Per</i> is a Latin word meaning <i>for</i>, and +<i>centum</i> another meaning <i>a hundred</i>.</div> + +<p>When the rest of the money for the farm was paid, Mary Erskine +resolved on purchasing a certain small, but very pleasant house with +it. This house was in the village, and she found on inquiry, that it +could be let to a family for fifty dollars a year. It is true that +a part of this fifty dollars would have to be expended every year in +making repairs upon the house, so as to keep it in good order; such as +painting it from time to time, and renewing the roof when the shingles +began to decay, and other similar things. But, then, Mary Erskine +found, on making a careful examination, that after expending as much +of the money which she should receive for the rent of her house, as +should be necessary for the repairs, she should still have rather more +than she would receive from the money to be invested, if it was put +out at interest by lending it to some person who wanted to borrow it. +So she decided to buy the house in preference to adopting any other +plan.</p> + +<p>It happened that the house which Mary Erskine thus determined to buy, +was the very one that Mr. Gordon lived in. The owner of the house +wished to sell it, and offered it first to Mr. Gordon; but he said +that he was not able to buy it. He had been doing very well in his +business, but his expenses were so great, he said, that he had not any +ready money at command. He was very sorry, he added, that the owner +wished to sell the house, for whoever should buy it, would want to +come and live in it, he supposed, and he should be obliged to move +away. The owner said that he was sorry, but that he could not help it.</p> + +<p>A few days after this, Mr. Gordon came home one evening, and told +Anne Sophia, with a countenance expressive of great surprise and some +little vexation, that her old friend, Mrs. Forester, had bought their +house, and was going to move into it. Anne Sophia was amazed at this +intelligence, and both she and her husband were thrown into a state of +great perplexity and trouble. The next morning Anne Sophia went out +to see Mary Erskine about it. Mary Erskine received her in a very kind +and cordial manner.</p> + +<p>"I am very glad to see you," said Mary Erskine. "I was coming to your +house myself in a day or two, about some business, if you had not come +here."</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Anne Sophia. "I understand that you have been buying our +house away from over our heads, and are going to turn us out of house +and home."</p> + +<p>"Oh, no," said Mary Erskine, smiling, "not at all. In the first place, +I have not really bought the house yet, but am only talking about it; +and in the second place, if I buy it, I shall not want it myself, but +shall wish to have you live in it just as you have done."</p> + +<p>"You will not want it yourself!" exclaimed Anne Sophia, astonished.</p> + +<p>"No," said Mary Erskine, "I am only going to buy it as an investment."</p> + +<p>There were so many things to be astonished at in this statement, that +Anne Sophia hardly knew where to begin with her wonder. First, she was +surprised to learn that Mary Erskine had so much money. When she heard +that she had bought the house, she supposed of course that she had +bought it on credit, for the sake of having a house in the village to +live in. Then she was amazed at the idea of any person continuing to +live in a log house in the woods, when she had a pretty house of +her own in the middle of the village. She could not for some time be +satisfied that Mary Erskine was in earnest in what she said. But when +she found that it was really so, she went away greatly relieved. Mary +Erskine told her that she had postponed giving her final answer about +buying the house, in order first to see Mr. Gordon, to know whether +he had any objection to the change of ownership. She knew, of course, +that Mr. Gordon would have no right to object, but she rightly +supposed that he would be gratified at having her ask him the +question.</p> + +<p>Mary Erskine went on after this for two or three years very +prosperously in all her affairs. Thomas continued to live with her, +in her log-house, and to cultivate the land which she had retained. In +the fall and winter, when there was nothing to be done in the fields +or garden, he was accustomed to work in the shop, making improvements +for the house, such as finishing off the stoop into another room, to +be used for a kitchen, making new windows to the house, and a regular +front door, and in preparing fences and gates to be put up around +the house. He made an aqueduct, too, to conduct the water from a new +spring which he discovered at a place higher than the house, and so +brought a constant stream of water into the kitchen which he had +made in the stoop. The stumps, too, in the fields around the house, +gradually decayed, so that Thomas could root them out and smooth over +the ground where they had stood. Mary Erskine's ten acres thus became +very smooth and beautiful. It was divided by fences into very pleasant +fields, with green lanes shaded by trees, leading from one place to +another. The brook flowed through this land along a very beautiful +valley, and there were groves and thickets here and there, both along +the margin of the brook, and in the corners of the fields, which +gave to the grounds a very sheltered, as well as a very picturesque +expression. Mary Erskine also caused trees and shrubbery to be planted +near the house, and trained honey-suckles and wild roses upon a +trellis over the front door. All these improvements were made in a +very plain and simple manner, and at very little expense, and yet +there was so much taste exercised in the arrangement of them all, that +the effect was very agreeable in the end. The house and all about it +formed, in time, an enchanting picture of rural beauty.<sup>[B]</sup></p> + +<div class="footnote">[B] See <a href="#pic01a">Frontispiece</a>.</div> + +<p>It was, however, only a few occasional hours of recreation that Mary +Erskine devoted to ornamenting her dwelling. The main portion of her +time and attention was devoted to such industrial pursuits as were +most available in bringing in the means of support for herself and her +children, so as to leave untouched the income from her house and her +bridge shares. This income, as fast as it was paid in, she deposited +with Mr. Keep, to be lent out on interest, until a sufficient sum was +thus accumulated to make a new investment of a permanent character. +When the sum at length amounted to two hundred and twenty dollars, she +bought two more bridge shares with it, and from that time forward +she received dividends on six shares instead of four; that is, she +received thirty dollars every six months, instead of twenty, as +before.</p> + +<p>One reason why Mary Erskine invested her money in a house and in a +bridge, instead of lending it out at interest, was that by so doing, +her property was before her in a visible form, and she could take a +constant pleasure in seeing it. Whenever she went to the village +she enjoyed seeing her house, which she kept in a complete state of +repair, and which she had ornamented with shrubbery and trees, so that +it was a very agreeable object to look upon of itself, independently +of the pleasure of ownership. In the same manner she liked to see the +bridge, and think when teams and people were passing over it, that a +part of all the toll which they paid, would, in the end, come to her. +She thus took the same kind of pleasure in having purchased a house, +and shares in a bridge, that any lady in a city would take in an +expensive new carpet, or a rosewood piano, which would cost about the +same sum; and then she had all the profit, in the shape of the annual +income, besides.</p> + +<p>There was one great advantage too which Mary Erskine derived from +owning this property, which, though she did not think of it at all +when she commenced her prudent and economical course, at the time of +her marriage, proved in the end to be of inestimable value to her. +This advantage was the high degree of respectability which it gave her +in the public estimation. The people of the village gradually found +out how she managed, and how fast her property was increasing, and +they entertained for her a great deal of that kind of respect which +worldly prosperity always commands. The store-keepers were anxious to +have her custom. Those who had money to lend were always very ready to +let her have it, if at any time she wished to make up a sum for a new +investment: and all the ladies of the village were willing that their +daughters should go out to her little farm to visit Bella, and to +have Bella visit them in return. Thus Mary Erskine found that she was +becoming quite an important personage.</p> + +<p>Her plan of teaching herself and her children succeeded perfectly. By +the time that she had thoroughly learned to write her own name, she +knew half of the letters of the alphabet, for her name contained +nearly that number. She next learned to write her children's names, +Bella Forester and Albert Forester. After that, she learned to write +the names of all the months, and to read them when she had written +them. She chose the names of the months, next after the names of +her own family, so that she might be able to date her letters if she +should ever have occasion to write any.</p> + +<p>Mary Bell set copies for her, when she came out to see her, and Mary +Erskine went on so much faster than Bella, that she could teach her +very well. She required Bella to spend an hour at her studies every +day. Thomas made a little desk for her, and her mother bought her a +slate and a pencil, and in process of time an arithmetic, and other +books. As soon as Mary Erskine could read fluently, Mary Bell used to +bring out books to her, containing entertaining stories. At first Mary +Bell would read these stories to her once, while she was at her work, +and then Mary Erskine, having heard Mary Bell read them, could read +them herself in the evening without much difficulty. At length she +made such progress that she could read the stories herself alone, the +first time, with very little trouble.</p> + +<p>Thus things went on in a very pleasant and prosperous manner, and this +was the condition of Mary Erskine and of her affairs, at the time when +Malleville and Phonny went to pay her their visit, as described in the +first chapter of this volume.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3><a name="CHAPTER_X" id="CHAPTER_X" />CHAPTER X.<br /><br />THE VISIT TO MARY ERSKINE'S.</h3> + + +<p>Malleville and Phonny arrived at Mary Erskine's about an hour after +Beechnut left them. They met with no special adventures by the way, +except that when they reached the great pine-tree, Phonny proposed to +climb up, for the purpose of examining a small bunch which he saw upon +one of the branches, which he thought was a bird's nest. It was the +same pine-tree that marked the place at which a road branched off into +the woods, where Mary Bell had lost her way, several years before. +Malleville was very unwilling to have Phonny climb up upon such a high +tree, but Phonny himself was very desirous to make the attempt. There +was a log fence at the foot of the tree, and the distance was not very +great from the uppermost log of the fence, to the lowermost branch +of the tree. So Phonny thought that he could get up without any +difficulty.</p> + +<p>Malleville was afraid to have him try, and she said that if he did, he +would be acting just as foolish as the boy that Beechnut had told them +about, who nipped his own nose; and that she should not stop to see +him do any such foolishness. So she walked along as fast as she could +go.</p> + +<p>Phonny unfortunately was rendered only the more determined to climb +the tree by Malleville's opposition. He accordingly mounted up to the +top of the fence, and thence reaching the lower branches of the tree +he succeeded at length, by dint of much scrambling and struggling, in +lifting himself up among them. He climbed out to the limb where he had +seen the appearances of a bird's nest, but found to his disappointment +that there was no bird's nest there. The bunch was only a little tuft +of twigs growing out together.</p> + +<p>Phonny then began to shout out for Malleville to wait for him.</p> + +<p>"Mal—le—ville! Mal—le—ville!" said he. "Wait a minute for me. I am +coming down."</p> + +<p>He did not like to be left there all alone, in the gloomy and solitary +forest. So he made all the haste possible in descending. There are a +great many accidents which may befall a boy in coming down a tree. The +one which Phonny was fated to incur in this instance, was to catch his +trowsers near the knee, in a small sharp twig which projected from a +branch, and tear them.</p> + +<p>When he reached the ground he looked at the rent in dismay. He was +generally nice and particular about his clothes, and he was very +unwilling to go to Mary Erskine's, and let her and Bella see him in +such a plight. He was equally unwilling to go home again, and to lose +his visit.</p> + +<p>"Provoking!" said he. "That comes from Malleville's hurrying me so. +It is all her fault." Then starting off suddenly, he began to run, +shouting out, "Malleville! Malleville!"</p> + +<p>At length, when he got pretty near her, he called out for her to stop +and see what she had made him do.</p> + +<p>"Did I make you do that?" said Malleville, looking at the rent, while +Phonny stood with his foot extended, and pointing at it with his +finger.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Phonny,—"because you hurried me."</p> + +<p>"Well, I'm sorry;" said Malleville, looking very much concerned.</p> + +<p>Phonny was put quite to a nonplus by this unexpected answer. He had +expected to hear Malleville deny that it was her fault that he had +torn his clothes, and was prepared to insist strenuously that it was; +but this unlooked-for gentleness seemed to leave him not a word to +say. So he walked along by the side of Malleville in silence.</p> + +<p>"Was it a pretty bird's-nest?" said Malleville in a conciliatory tone, +after a moment's pause.</p> + +<p>"No," said Phonny. "It was not any bird's nest at all."</p> + +<p>When the children reached the farm as they called it, Mary Erskine +seated Phonny on the bed, and then drawing up her chair near to him, +she took his foot in her lap and mended the rent so neatly that there +was afterwards no sign of it to be seen.</p> + +<p>Little Albert was at this time about three years old, and Bella was +seven. Phonny, while Mary Erskine was mending his clothes, asked where +the children were. Mary Erskine said that they had gone out into +the fields with Thomas, to make hay. So Phonny and Malleville, after +getting proper directions in respect to the way that they were to go, +set off in pursuit of them.</p> + +<p>They went out at a back-door which led to a beautiful walk under +a long trellis, which was covered with honey-suckles and roses. +Malleville stopped to get a rose, and Phonny to admire two +humming-birds that were playing about the honey-suckles. He wished +very much that he could catch one of them, but he could not even get +near them. From the end of the trellis's walk the children entered a +garden, and at the back side of the garden they went through a narrow +place between two posts into a field. They walked along the side of +this field, by a very pleasant path with high green grass and flowers +on one side, and a wall with a great many raspberry bushes growing +by it, and now and then little thickets of trees, on the other. The +bushes and trees made the walk that they were going in very cool and +shady. There were plenty of raspberries upon the bushes, but they were +not yet ripe. Phonny said that when the raspberries were ripe he meant +to come out to Mary Erskine's again and get some.</p> + +<p>Presently the children turned a sort of a corner which was formed by a +group of trees, and then they came in sight of the hay-making party.</p> + +<p>"Oh, they have got the horse and cart," said Phonny. So saying he set +off as fast he could run, toward the hay-makers, Malleville following +him.</p> + +<p>The horse and cart were standing in the middle of the field among the +numerous winrows of hay. The two children of Mrs. Forester, Bella +and Albert, were in the cart, treading down the hay as fast as Thomas +pitched it up. As soon as Phonny and Malleville reached the place, +Malleville stood still with her hands behind her, looking at the scene +with great interest and pleasure. Phonny wanted to know if Thomas had +not got another pitch-fork, so that he might help him pitch up the +hay.</p> + +<p>Thomas said, no. He, however, told Phonny that he might get into the +cart if he pleased, and drive the horse along when it was time to +go to a new place. Phonny was extremely pleased with this plan. He +climbed into the cart, Bella helping him up by a prodigious lift which +she gave him, seizing him by the shoulder as he came up. Malleville +was afraid to get into the cart at all, but preferred walking along +the field and playing among the winrows.</p> + +<p>Phonny drove along from place to place as Thomas directed him, until +at length the cart was so full that it was no longer safe for the +children to remain upon the top. They then slid down the hay to the +ground, Thomas receiving them so as to prevent any violent fall. +Thomas then forked up as much more hay as he could make stay upon the +top of his load, and when this was done, he set out to go to the barn. +The children accompanied him, walking behind the cart.</p> + +<p>When the party reached the barn, the children went inside to a place +which Phonny called the bay. Thomas drove his cart up near the side of +the barn without, and began to pitch the hay in through a great square +window, quite high up. The window opened into the bay, so that the +hay, when Thomas pitched it in, fell down into the place where the +children were standing. They jumped upon it, when it came down, with +great glee. As every new forkful which Thomas pitched in came without +any warning except the momentary darkening of the window, it sometimes +fell upon the children's heads and half buried them, each new accident +of this kind awakening, as it occurred, loud and long continued bursts +of laughter.</p> + +<p>After getting in two or three loads of hay in this manner, dinner +time came, and the whole party went in to dinner. They found when +they entered the house that Mary Erskine had been frying nut-cakes and +apple-turnovers for them. There was a large earthen pan full of such +things, and there were more over the fire. There were also around the +table four bowls full of very rich looking milk, with a spoon in each +bowl, and a large supply of bread, cut into very small pieces, upon +a plate near the bowls. The children were all hungry and thirsty, and +they gathered around the table to eat the excellent dinner which Mary +Erskine had provided for them, with an air of great eagerness and +delight.</p> + +<p>After their dinner was over, Mary Erskine said that they might go out +and play for half an hour, and that then she would go with them +into the fields, and see if they could not find some strawberries. +Accordingly, when the time arrived, they all assembled at the door, +and Mary Erskine came out, bringing mugs and baskets to put the +strawberries in. There were four mugs made of tin; such as were there +called <i>dippers</i>. There were two pretty large baskets besides, +both covered. Mary Erskine gave to each of the children a dipper, and +carried the baskets herself. She seemed to carry them very carefully, +and they appeared to be heavy, as if there might be something inside. +Phonny wanted very much to know what there was in those baskets. Mary +Erskine said he must guess.</p> + +<p>"Some cake," said Phonny.</p> + +<p>"Guess again," said Mary Erskine.</p> + +<p>"Apples," said Phonny.</p> + +<p>"Guess again," said Mary Erskine.</p> + +<p>"Why, have not I guessed right yet?" asked Phonny.</p> + +<p>"I can't tell you," replied Mary Erskine. "Only you may guess as much +as you please."</p> + +<p>Phonny of course gave up guessing, since he was not to be told whether +he guessed right or not; though he said he was sure that it was cake, +or else, perhaps, some of the turn-overs. The party walked along by +very pleasant paths until they came to a field by the side of the +brook. There were trees along the banks of the brook, under which, +and near the water, there were a great many cool and shady places +that were very pleasant. Mary Erskine led the way down to one of these +where there was a large flat stone near the water. She hid her two +baskets in the bushes, and then directed the children to go up into +the field with her and get the strawberries. The strawberries were not +only very abundant, but also very large and ripe. Mary Erskine said +that they might all eat ten, but no more. All that they got, except +ten, they must put into their dippers, until the dippers were full. +She herself went busily at work, finding strawberries and putting them +into the dippers of the children, sometimes into one and sometimes +into another. In a short time the dippers were full.</p> + +<p>The whole party then went back to the brook and sat down upon the +great flat stone, with their dippers before them. Mary Erskine then +brought out one of her baskets, and lifting up the cover, she took out +five saucers and five spoons.</p> + +<p>"There," said she, "I brought you some saucers and spoons to eat your +strawberries with. Now take up the bunches from your dippers, and pull +off the strawberries from the stems, and put them in the saucers."</p> + +<p>While the children were all busily engaged in doing this, Mary Erskine +opened the other basket, and took out a pitcher of very rich looking +cream. The sight of this treasure of course awakened in all the +party the utmost enthusiasm and delight. They went on hulling their +strawberries very industriously, and were soon ready, one after +another, to have the cream poured over them, which Mary Erskine +proceeded to do, giving to each one of the children a very abundant +supply.</p> + +<p class="pic-centre"> +<a name="pic11" id="pic11" /> +<img src="images/pic0011.jpg" width="500" height="485" alt="An engraving of the strawberry party." title="The Strawberry Party." /> +</p> + +<p>Phonny finished his strawberries first, and then went to the margin of +the brook to look into the water, in order, as he said, "to see if he +could see any fishes." He did see several, and became greatly excited +in consequence, calling eagerly upon the rest of the party to +come down and look. He said that he wished very much that he had a +fishing-line. Mary Erskine said that Thomas had a fishing-line, +which he would lend him, she had no doubt; and away Phonny went, +accordingly, to find Thomas and to get the line.</p> + +<p>This procedure was not quite right on Phonny's part. It is not right +to abandon one's party under such circumstances as these, for the sake +of some new pleasure accidentally coming into view, which the whole +party cannot share. Besides, Phonny left his dipper for Mary Erskine +or Malleville to carry up, instead of taking care of it himself. Mary +Erskine, however, said that this was of no consequence, as she could +carry it just as well as not.</p> + +<p>Mary Erskine and the three remaining children, then went back to the +house, where Bella and Malleville amused themselves for half an hour +in building houses with the blocks in Thomas's shop, when all at once +Malleville was surprised to see Beechnut coming in. Beechnut, was +returning from the mill, and as the children had had to walk nearly +all the way to Mary Erskine's, he thought it very probable that they +would be too tired to walk back again. So he had left his horse +and wagon at the corner, and had walked out to the farm to take the +children home with him, if they were ready to go.</p> + +<p>"I am not <i>ready</i> to go," said Malleville, after having heard +this story, but I <i>will</i> go for the sake of the ride. I am +too tired to walk all the way. But Phonny is not here. He has gone +a-fishing."</p> + +<p>"Where has he gone?" said Beechnut.</p> + +<p>"Down to the brook," replied Malleville.</p> + +<p>"I will go and find him," said Beechnut.</p> + +<p>So saying, Beechnut left the shop, went out into the yard, and began +to walk down the path which led toward the brook. Very soon he +saw Phonny coming out from among the bushes with his pole over his +shoulder, and walking along with quite a disconsolate air. Beechnut +sat down upon a log by the side of the road, to wait for him.</p> + +<p>"Did you catch any fishes?" said Beechnut, as Phonny approached him.</p> + +<p>"No," said Phonny, despondingly.</p> + +<p>"I am glad of that," said Beechnut.</p> + +<p>"Glad!" said Phonny, looking up surprised, and somewhat displeased. +"What are you glad for?"</p> + +<p>"For the sake of the fishes," said Beechnut.</p> + +<p>"Hoh!" said Phonny. "And the other day, when I did catch some, you +said you were glad of that."</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Beechnut, "then I was glad for your sake. There is always +a chance to be glad for some sake or other, happen what may."</p> + +<p>This, though very good philosophy, did not appear to be just at that +time at all satisfactory to Phonny.</p> + +<p>"I have had nothing but ill-luck all this afternoon," said Phonny, in +a pettish tone. "That great ugly black horse of Thomas's trod on my +foot."</p> + +<p>"Did he?" said Beechnut; his countenance brightening up at the same +time, as if Phonny had told him some good news.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Phonny, "Thomas came along near where I was fishing, and I +laid down my fishing-line, and went up to the horse, and was standing +by his head, and he trod on my foot dreadfully."</p> + +<p>"Did he?" said Beechnut, "I am very glad of that."</p> + +<p>"Glad of that!" repeated Phonny. "I don't see whose sake you can be +glad of that for. I am sure it did not do the horse any good."</p> + +<p>"I am glad of that for your sake," said Beechnut. "There never was a +boy that grew up to be a man, that did not have his foot trod upon at +some time or other by a horse. There is no other possible way for +them to learn that when a horse takes up his foot, he will put it down +again wherever it happens, and if a boy's foot is under it, it will +get trod upon. There is no possible way for boys to learn that but +by experiencing it. The only difference is, that some boys take the +treading light, and others get it heavy. You have got it light. So if +you have only learned the lesson, you have learned it very easily, and +so I am glad."</p> + +<p>"No, it was not light," said Phonny. "It was very heavy. What makes +you think it was light?"</p> + +<p>"By your walking," replied Beechnut. "I have known some boys that when +they took their lesson in keeping out of the way of horses' forefeet, +could not stand for a week after it. You have had most excellent luck, +you may depend."</p> + +<p>By the time that Beechnut and Phonny reached the house, Malleville +had put on her bonnet and was ready to go. Mary Erskine said that she +would go with them a little way. Bella and Albert then wanted to go +too. Their mother said that she had no objection, and so they all went +along together.</p> + +<p>"Did you know that we were going to have a new road?" said Mary +Erskine to Beechnut.</p> + +<p>"Are you?" asked Phonny eagerly.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Mary Erskine. "They have laid out a new road to the +corner, and are going to make it very soon. It will be a very good +wagon road, and when it is made you can ride all the way. But then it +will not be done in time for my raspberry party."</p> + +<p>"Your raspberry party?" repeated Phonny, "what is that?'</p> + +<p>"Did not I tell you about it? I am going to invite you and all the +children in the village that I know, to come here some day when the +raspberries are ripe, and have a raspberry party,—like the strawberry +party that we had to-day. There are a great many raspberries on my +place."</p> + +<p>"I'm <i>very</i> glad," said Malleville. "When are you going to invite +us?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, in a week or two," said Mary Erskine. "But then the new road will +not be done until the fall. They have just begun it. We can hear them +working upon it in one place, pretty soon."</p> + +<p>The party soon came to the place which Mary Erskine had referred to. +It was a point where the new road came near the line of the old one, +and a party of men and oxen were at work, making a causeway, across a +low wet place. As the children passed along, they could hear the sound +of axes and the voices of men shouting to oxen. Phonny wished very +much to go and see. So Mary Erskine led the way through the woods a +short distance, till they came in sight of the men at work. They were +engaged in felling trees, pulling out rocks and old logs which were +sunken in the mire, by means of oxen and chains, and in other similar +works, making all the time loud and continual vociferations, which +resounded and echoed through the forest in a very impressive manner.</p> + +<p>What interested Phonny most in these operations, was to see how +patiently the oxen bore being driven about in the deep mire, and the +prodigious strength which they exerted in pulling out the logs. One of +the workmen would take a strong iron chain, and while two others would +pry up the end of a log with crow-bars or levers, he would pass +the chain under the end so raised, and then hook it together above. +Another man would then back up a pair of oxen to the place, and +sometimes two pairs, in order that they might be hooked to the chain +which passed around the log. When all was ready, the oxen were started +forward, and though they went very slowly, step by step, yet they +exerted such prodigious strength as to tear the log out of its bed, +and drag it off, roots, branches, and all, entirely out of the way.</p> + +<p>Monstrous rocks were lifted up and dragged out of the line of the road +in much the same manner.</p> + +<p>After looking at this scene for some time, the party returned to the +old road again, and there Mary Erskine said that she would bid her +visitors good-bye, and telling them that she would not forget to +invite them to her raspberry party, she took leave of them and went +back toward her own home.</p> + +<p>"If all the children of the village that Mary Erskine knows, are +invited to that party," said Phonny, "what a great raspberry party it +will be!"</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Beechnut, "it will be a raspberry <i>jam</i>."</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3>THE END.</h3> + + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Mary Erskine, by Jacob Abbott + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MARY ERSKINE *** + +***** This file should be named 14475-h.htm or 14475-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/4/4/7/14475/ + +Produced by Sherry Hamby, Ted Garvin, Cori Samuel and the PG Online +Distributed Proofreading Team + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Mary Erskine + +Author: Jacob Abbott + +Release Date: December 26, 2004 [EBook #14475] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MARY ERSKINE *** + + + + +Produced by Sherry Hamby, Ted Garvin, Cori Samuel and the PG Online +Distributed Proofreading Team + + + + + + +[Illustration: MARY ERSKINE'S FARM] + + +MARY ERSKINE + + +A Franconia Story, + + +BY THE AUTHOR OF THE ROLLO BOOKS. + + + + +NEW YORK: HARPER & BROTHERS PUBLISHERS. FRANKLIN SQUARE. + +Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1850, by HARPER & +BROTHERS, In the Clerk's Office for the Southern District of New York. + + + + +PREFACE. + + +The development of the moral sentiments in the human heart, in early +life,--and every thing in fact which relates to the formation of +character,--is determined in a far greater degree by sympathy, and +by the influence of example, than by formal precepts and didactic +instruction. If a boy hears his father speaking kindly to a robin in +the spring,--welcoming its coming and offering it food,--there arises +at once in his own mind, a feeling of kindness toward the bird, +and toward all the animal creation, which is produced by a sort of +sympathetic action, a power somewhat similar to what in physical +philosophy is called _induction_. On the other hand, if the +father, instead of feeding the bird, goes eagerly for a gun, in order +that he may shoot it, the boy will sympathize in that desire, and +growing up under such an influence, there will be gradually formed +within him, through the mysterious tendency of the youthful heart to +vibrate in unison with hearts that are near, a disposition to kill and +destroy all helpless beings that come within his power. There is no +need of any formal instruction in either case. Of a thousand children +brought up under the former of the above-described influences, nearly +every one, when he sees a bird, will wish to go and get crumbs to feed +it, while in the latter case, nearly every one will just as certainly +look for a stone. Thus the growing up in the right atmosphere, rather +than the receiving of the right instruction, is the condition which +it is most important to secure, in plans for forming the characters of +children. + +It is in accordance with this philosophy that these stories, though +written mainly with a view to their moral influence on the hearts and +dispositions of the readers, contain very little formal exhortation +and instruction. They present quiet and peaceful pictures of happy +domestic life, portraying generally such conduct, and expressing such +sentiments and feelings, as it is desirable to exhibit and express in +the presence of children. + +The books, however, will be found, perhaps, after all, to be useful +mainly in entertaining and amusing the youthful readers who may peruse +them, as the writing of them has been the amusement and recreation of +the author in the intervals of more serious pursuits. + + + + +CONTENTS. + + +CHAPTER + +I.--JEMMY + +II.--THE BRIDE + +III.--MARY ERSKINE'S VISITORS + +IV.--CALAMITY + +V.--CONSULTATIONS + +VI.--MARY BELL IN THE WOODS + +VII.--HOUSE-KEEPING + +VIII.--THE SCHOOL + +IX.--GOOD MANAGEMENT + +X.--THE VISIT TO MARY ERSKINE'S + + + + +ENGRAVINGS. + + +MARY ERSKINE'S FARM--FRONTISPIECE. + +CATCHING THE HORSE + +THE LOG HOUSE + +MARY BELL AT THE BROOK + +THE WIDOW AND THE FATHERLESS + +MRS. BELL + +MARY BELL AND QUEEN BESS + +MARY BELL GETTING BREAKFAST + +THE SCHOOL + +GOING TO COURT + +THE STRAWBERRY PARTY + + + + +THE FRANCONIA STORIES. + + +ORDER OF THE VOLUMES. + +MALLEVILLE. + +WALLACE. + +MARY ERSKINE. + +MARY BELL. + +BEECHNUT. + +RODOLPHUS. + +ELLEN LINN. + +STUYVESANT. + +CAROLINE. + +AGNES. + + + + +SCENE OF THE STORY + + +The country in the vicinity of Franconia, at the North. + + +PRINCIPAL PERSONS + + +MARY ERSKINE. + +ALBERT. + +PHONNY and MALLEVILLE, cousins, residing at the house of Phonny's +mother. + +MRS. HENRY, Phonny's mother. + +ANTONIO BLANCHINETTE, a French boy, residing at Mrs. Henry's; commonly +called Beechnut. + +MRS. BELL, a widow lady, living in the vicinity of Mrs. Henry's. + +MARY BELL, her daughter. + +MARY ERSKINE. + + + + +CHAPTER I. + +JEMMY. + + +Malleville and her cousin Phonny generally played together at +Franconia a great part of the day, and at night they slept in two +separate recesses which opened out of the same room. These recesses +were deep and large, and they were divided from the room by curtains, +so that they formed as it were separate chambers: and yet the children +could speak to each other from them in the morning before they got up, +since the curtains did not intercept the sound of their voices. They +might have talked in the same manner at night, after they had gone to +bed, but this was against Mrs. Henry's rules. + +One morning Malleville, after lying awake a few minutes, listening to +the birds that were singing in the yard, and wishing that the window +was open so that she could hear them more distinctly, heard Phonny's +voice calling to her. + +"Malleville," said he, "are you awake?" + +"Yes," said Malleville, "are you?" + +"Yes," said Phonny, "I'm awake--but what a cold morning it is!" + +It was indeed a cold morning, or at least a very _cool_ one. +This was somewhat remarkable, as it was in the month of June. But the +country about Franconia was cold in winter, and cool in summer. Phonny +and Malleville rose and dressed themselves, and then went down stairs. +They hoped to find a fire in the sitting-room, but there was none. + +"How sorry I am," said Phonny. "But hark, I hear a roaring." + +"Yes," said Malleville; "it is the oven; they are going to bake." + +The back of the oven was so near to the partition wall which formed +one side of the sitting-room, that the sound of the fire could be +heard through it. The mouth of the oven however opened into +another small room connected with the kitchen, which was called the +baking-room. The children went out into the baking-room, to warm +themselves by the oven fire. + +"I am very glad that it is a cool day," said Phonny, "for perhaps +mother will let us go to Mary Erskine's. Should not you like to go?" + +"Yes," said Malleville, "very much. Where is it?" + +The readers who have perused the preceding volumes of this series +will have observed that Mary Bell, who lived with her mother in the +pleasant little farm-house at a short distance from the village, was +always called by her full name, Mary Bell, and not ever, or scarcely +ever, merely Mary. People had acquired the habit of speaking of her in +this way, in order to distinguish her from another Mary who lived with +Mrs. Bell for several years. This other Mary was Mary Erskine. Mary +Erskine did not live now at Mrs. Bell's, but at another house which +was situated nearly two miles from Mrs. Henry's, and the way to it +was by a very wild and unfrequented road. The children were frequently +accustomed to go and make Mary Erskine a visit; but it was so long a +walk that Mrs. Henry never allowed them to go unless on a very cool +day. + +At breakfast that morning Phonny asked his mother if that would not be +a good day for them to go and see Mary Erskine. Mrs. Henry said that +it would be an excellent day, and that she should be very glad to have +them go, for there were some things there to be brought home. Besides +Beechnut was going to mill, and he could carry them as far as Kater's +corner. + +Kater's corner was a place where a sort of cart path, branching off +from the main road, led through the woods to the house where Mary +Erskine lived. It took its name from a farmer, whose name was Kater, +and whose house was at the corner where the roads diverged. The main +road itself was very rough and wild, and the cart path which led from +the corner was almost impassable in summer, even for a wagon, though +it was a very romantic and beautiful road for travelers on horseback +or on foot. In the winter the road was excellent: for the snow buried +all the roughness of the way two or three feet deep, and the teams +which went back and forth into the woods, made a smooth and beautiful +track for every thing on runners, upon the top of it. + +Malleville and Phonny were very much pleased with the prospect of +riding a part of the way to Mary Erskine's, with Beechnut, in the +wagon. They made themselves ready immediately after breakfast, and +then went and sat down upon the step of the door, waiting for Beechnut +to appear. Beechnut was in the barn, harnessing the horse into the +wagon. + +Malleville sat down quietly upon the step while waiting for Beechnut. +Phonny began to amuse himself by climbing up the railing of the +bannisters, at the side of the stairs. He was trying to poise himself +upon the top of the railing and then to work himself up the ascent +by pulling and pushing with his hands and feet against the bannisters +themselves below. + +"I wish you would not do that," said Malleville. "I think it is very +foolish, for you may fall and hurt yourself." + +"No," said Phonny. "It is not foolish. It is very useful for me to +learn to climb." So saying he went on scrambling up the railing of the +bannisters as before. + +Just then Beechnut came along through the yard, towards the house. He +was coming for the whip. + +"Beechnut," said Malleville, "I wish that you would speak to Phonny." + +"_Is_ it foolish for me to learn to climb?" asked Phonny. In +order to see Beechnut while he asked this question, Phonny had to +twist his head round in a very unusual position, and look out under +his arm. It was obvious that in doing this he was in imminent danger +of falling, so unstable was the equilibrium in which he was poised +upon the rail. + +"Is not he foolish?" asked Malleville. + +Beechnut looked at him a moment, and then said, as he resumed his walk +through the entry, + +"Not very;--that is for a boy. I have known boys sometimes to do +foolisher things than that." + +"What did they do?" asked Phonny. + +"Why once," said Beechnut, "I knew a boy who put his nose into the +crack of the door, and then took hold of the latch and pulled the +door to, and pinched his nose to death. That was a _little_ more +foolish, though not much." + +So saying Beechnut passed through the door and disappeared. + +Phonny was seized with so violent a convulsion of laughter at the idea +of such absurd folly as Beechnut had described, that he tumbled off +the bannisters, but fortunately he fell _in_, towards the stairs, +and was very little hurt. He came down the stairs to Malleville, and +as Beechnut returned in a few minutes with the whip, they all went out +towards the barn together. + +Beechnut had already put the bags of grain into the wagon behind, +and now he assisted Phonny and Malleville to get in. He gave them the +whole of the seat, in order that they might have plenty of room, and +also that they might be high up, where they could see. He had a small +bench which was made to fit in, in front, and which he was accustomed +to use for himself, as a sort of driver's seat, whenever the wagon was +full. He placed this bench in its place in front, and taking his seat +upon it, he drove away. + +When the party had thus fairly set out, and Phonny and Malleville had +in some measure finished uttering the multitude of exclamations of +delight with which they usually commenced a ride, they began to wish +that Beechnut would tell them a story. Now Beechnut was a boy of +boundless fertility of imagination, and he was almost always ready to +tell a story. His stories were usually invented on the spot, and were +often extremely wild and extravagant, both in the incidents involved +in them, and in the personages whom he introduced as actors. The +extravagance of these tales was however usually no objection to them +in Phonny's and Malleville's estimation. In fact Beechnut observed +that the more extravagant his stories were, the better pleased his +auditors generally appeared to be in listening to them. He therefore +did not spare invention, or restrict himself by any rules either of +truth or probability in his narratives. Nor did he usually require any +time for preparation, but commenced at once with whatever came into +his head, pronouncing the first sentence of his story, very often +without any idea of what he was to say next. + +On this occasion Beechnut began as follows: + +"Once there was a girl about three years old, and she had a large +black cat. The cat was of a jet black color, and her fur was very soft +and glossy. It was as soft as silk. + +"This cat was very mischievous and very sly. She was _very_ sly: +very indeed. In fact she used to go about the house so very slyly, +getting into all sorts of mischief which the people could never find +out till afterwards, that they gave her the name of Sligo. Some people +said that the reason why she had that name was because she came from +a place called Sligo, in Ireland. But that was not the reason. It was +veritably and truly because she was so sly." + +Beechnut pronounced this decision in respect to the etymological +import of the pussy's name in the most grave and serious manner, and +Malleville and Phonny listened with profound attention. + +"What was the girl's name?" asked Malleville. + +"The girl's?" repeated Beechnut. "Oh, her name was--Arabella." + +"Well, go on," said Malleville. + +"One day," continued Beechnut, "Sligo was walking about the house, +trying to find something to do. She came into the parlor. There was +nobody there. She looked about a little, and presently she saw a +work-basket upon the corner of a table, where Arabella's mother had +been at work. Sligo began to look at the basket, thinking that it +would make a good nest for her to sleep in, if she could only get it +under the clock. The clock stood in a corner of the room. + +"Sligo accordingly jumped up into a chair, and from the chair to the +table, and then pushing the basket along nearer and nearer to the edge +of the table, she at last made it fall over, and all the sewing and +knitting work, and the balls, and needles, and spools, fell out upon +the floor. Sligo then jumped down and pushed the basket along toward +the clock. She finally got it under the clock, crept into it, curled +herself round into the form of a semicircle inside, so as just to fill +the basket, and went to sleep. + +"Presently Arabella came in, and seeing the spools and balls upon +the floor, began to play with them. In a few minutes more, Arabella's +mother came in, and when she saw Arabella playing with these things +upon the floor, she supposed that Arabella herself was the rogue that +had thrown the basket off the table. Arabella could not talk much. +When her mother accused her of doing this mischief, she could only say +"No;" "no;" but her mother did not believe her. So she made her go and +stand up in the corner of the room, for punishment, while Sligo peeped +out from under the clock to see." + +"But you said that Sligo was asleep," said Phonny. + +"Yes, she went to sleep," replied Beechnut, "but she waked up when +Arabella's mother came into the room." + +Beechnut here paused a moment to consider what he should say next, +when suddenly he began to point forward to a little distance before +them in the road, where a boy was to be seen at the side of the road, +sitting upon a stone. + +"I verily believe it is Jemmy," said he. + +As the wagon approached the place where Jemmy was sitting, they +found that he was bending down over his foot, and moaning with, pain. +Beechnut asked him what was the matter. He said that he had sprained +his foot dreadfully. Beechnut stopped the horse, and giving the +reins to Phonny, he got out to see. Phonny immediately gave them to +Malleville, and followed. + +"Are you much hurt?" asked Beechnut. + +"Oh, yes," said Jemmy, moaning and groaning; "oh dear me!" + +Beechnut then went back to the horse, and taking him by the bridle, +he led him a little way out of the road, toward a small tree, where +he thought he would stand, and then taking Malleville out, so that +she might not be in any danger if the horse should chance to start, he +went back to Jemmy. + +"You see," said Jemmy, "I was going to mill, and I was riding along +here, and the horse pranced about and threw me off and sprained my +foot. Oh dear me! what shall I do?" + +"Where is the horse?" asked Beechnut. + +"There he is," said Jemmy, "somewhere out there. He has gone along the +road. And the bags have fallen off too. Oh dear me!" + +Phonny ran out into the road, and looked forward. He could see the +horse standing by the side of the road at some distance, quietly +eating the grass. A little this side of the place where the horse +stood, the bags were lying upon the ground, not very far from each +other. + +The story which Jemmy told was not strictly true. He was one of the +boys of the village, and was of a wild and reckless character. This +was, however, partly his father's fault, who never gave him any kind +and friendly instruction, and always treated him with a great degree +of sternness and severity. + +A circus company had visited Franconia a few weeks before the time of +this accident, and Jemmy had peeped through the cracks of the fence +that formed their enclosure, and had seen the performers ride around +the ring, standing upon the backs of the horses. He was immediately +inspired with the ambition to imitate this feat, and the next time +that he mounted his father's horse, he made the attempt to perform it. +His father, when he found it out, was very angry with him, and sternly +forbade him ever to do such a thing again. He declared positively that +if he did, he would whip him to death, as he said. Jemmy was silent, +but he secretly resolved that he would ride standing again, the very +first opportunity. + +Accordingly, when his father put the two bags of grain upon the horse, +and ordered Jemmy to go to mill with them, Jemmy thought that the +opportunity had come. He had observed that the circus riders, instead +of a saddle, used upon the backs of their horses a sort of flat pad, +which afforded a much more convenient footing than any saddle; and as +to standing on the naked back of a horse, it was manifestly impossible +for any body but a rope-dancer. When, however, Jemmy saw his father +placing the bags of grain upon the horse, he perceived at once that a +good broad and level surface was produced by them, which was much +more extended and level, even than the pads of the circus-riders. He +instantly resolved, that the moment that he got completely away from +the village, he would mount upon the bags and ride standing--and ride +so, too, just as long as he pleased. + +Accordingly, as soon as he had passed the house where Phonny lived, +which was the last house in that direction for some distance, he +looked round in order to be sure that his father was not by any +accident behind him, and then climbing up first upon his knees, and +afterward upon his feet, he drew up the reins cautiously, and then +chirruped to the horse to go on. The horse began to move slowly along. +Jemmy was surprised and delighted to find how firm his footing was +on the broad surface of the bags. Growing more and more bold and +confident as he became accustomed to his situation, he began presently +to dance about, or rather to perform certain awkward antics, which +he considered dancing, looking round continually, with a mingled +expression of guilt, pleasure, and fear, in his countenance, in order +to be sure that his father was not coming. Finally, he undertook to +make his horse trot a little. The horse, however, by this time, +began to grow somewhat impatient at the unusual sensations which +he experienced--the weight of the rider being concentrated upon one +single point, directly on his back, and resting very unsteadily +and interruptedly there,--and the bridle-reins passing up almost +perpendicularly into the air, instead of declining backwards, as they +ought to do in any proper position of the horseman. He began to trot +forward faster and faster. Jemmy soon found that it would be prudent +to restrain him, but in his upright position, he had no control +over the horse by pulling the reins. He only pulled the horse's head +upwards, and made him more uneasy and impatient than before. He then +attempted to get down into a sitting posture again, but in doing +so, he fell off upon the hard road and sprained his ankle. The horse +trotted rapidly on, until the bags fell off, first one and then the +other. Finding himself thus wholly at liberty, he stopped and began +to eat the grass at the road-side, wholly unconcerned at the mischief +that had been done. + +Jemmy's distress was owing much more to his alarm and his sense of +guilt, than to the actual pain of the injury which he had suffered. He +was, however, entirely disabled by the sprain. + +"It is rather a hard case," said Beechnut, "no doubt, but never mind +it, Jemmy. A man may break his leg, and yet live to dance many a +hornpipe afterwards. You'll get over all this and laugh about it one +day. Come, I'll carry you home in my wagon." + +"But I am afraid to go home," said Jemmy. + +"What are you afraid of?" asked Beechnut. + +"Of my father," said Jemmy. + +"Oh no," said Beechnut. "The horse is not hurt, and as for the grist +I'll carry it to mill with mine. So there is no harm done. Come, let +me put you into the wagon." + +"Yes," said Phonny, "and I will go and catch the horse." + +While Beechnut was putting Jemmy into the wagon, Phonny ran along the +road toward the horse. The horse, hearing footsteps, and supposing +from the sound that somebody might be coming to catch him, was at +first disposed to set off and gallop away; but looking round and +seeing that it was nobody but Phonny he went on eating as before. +When Phonny got pretty near to the horse, he began to walk up slowly +towards him, putting out his hand as if to take hold of the bridle and +saying, "Whoa--Dobbin,--whoa." The horse raised his head a little +from the grass, shook it very expressively at Phonny, walked on a few +steps, and then began to feed upon the grass as before. He seemed +to know precisely how much resistance was necessary to avoid the +recapture with which he was threatened. + +"Whoa Jack! whoa!" said Phonny, advancing again. The horse, however, +moved on, shaking his head as before. He seemed to be no more disposed +to recognize the name of Jack than Dobbin. + +[Illustration: CATCHING THE HORSE.] + +"Jemmy," said Phonny, turning back and calling out aloud, "Jemmy! +what's his name?" + +Jemmy did not answer. He was fully occupied in getting into the wagon. + +Beechnut called Phonny back and asked him to hold his horse, while he +went to catch Jemmy's. He did it by opening one of the bags and taking +out a little grain, and by means of it enticing the stray horse near +enough to enable him to take hold of the bridle. He then fastened him +behind the wagon, and putting Jemmy's two bags in, he turned round and +went back to carry Jemmy home, leaving Malleville and Phonny to walk +the rest of the way to Mary Erskine's. Besides their ride, they lost +the remainder of the story of Sligo, if that can be said to be lost +which never existed. For at the time when Beechnut paused in his +narration, he had told the story as far as he had invented it. He had +not thought of another word. + + + + +CHAPTER II. + +THE BRIDE. + + +Mary Erskine was an orphan. Her mother died when she was about twelve +years old. Her father had died long before, and after her father's +death her mother was very poor, and lived in so secluded and solitary +a place, that Mary had no opportunity then to go to school. She +began to work too as soon as she was able to do any thing, and it was +necessary from that day forward for her to work all the time; and this +would have prevented her from going to school, if there had been one +near. Thus when her mother died, although she was an intelligent and +very sensible girl, she could neither read nor write a word. She told +Mrs. Bell the day that she went to live with her, that she did not +even know any of the letters, except the round one and the crooked +one. The round one she said she _always_ knew, and as for S she +learned that, because it stood for Erskine. This shows how little she +knew about spelling. + +Mrs. Bell wanted Mary Erskine to help her in taking care of her own +daughter Mary, who was then an infant. As both the girls were named +Mary, the people of the family and the neighbors gradually fell +into the habit of calling each of them by her full name, in order to +distinguish them from each other. Thus the baby was never called Mary, +but always Mary Bell, and the little nursery maid was always known as +Mary Erskine. + +Mary Erskine became a great favorite at Mrs. Bell's. She was of a +very light-hearted and joyous disposition, always contented and happy, +singing like a nightingale at her work all the day long, when she +was alone, and cheering and enlivening all around her by her buoyant +spirits when she was in company. When Mary Bell became old enough to +run about and play, Mary Erskine became her playmate and companion, +as well as her protector. There was no distinction of rank to separate +them. If Mary Bell had been as old as Mary Erskine and had had a +younger sister, her duties in the household would have been exactly +the same as Mary Erskine's were. In fact, Mary Erskine's position was +altogether that of an older sister, and strangers visiting, the family +would have supposed that the two girls were really sisters, had they +not both been named Mary. + +Mary Erskine was about twelve years older than Mary Bell, so that when +Mary Bell began to go to school, which was when she was about five +years old, Mary Erskine was about seventeen. Mrs. Bell had proposed, +when Mary Erskine first came to her house, that she would go to school +and learn to read and write; but Mary had been very much disinclined +to do so. In connection with the amiableness and gentleness of her +character and her natural good sense, she had a great deal of pride +and independence of spirit; and she was very unwilling to go to +school--being, as she was, almost in her teens--and begin there to +learn her letters with the little children. Mrs. Bell ought to have +required her to go, notwithstanding her reluctance, or else to have +made some other proper arrangement for teaching her to read and write. +Mrs. Bell was aware of this in fact, and frequently resolved that she +would do so. But she postponed the performance of her resolution from +month to month and year to year, and finally it was not performed at +all. Mary Erskine was so very useful at home, that a convenient time +for sparing her never came. And then besides she was so kind, and so +tractable, and so intent upon complying with all Mrs. Bell's wishes, +in every respect, that Mrs. Bell was extremely averse to require any +thing of her, which would mortify her, or give her pain. + +When Mary Erskine was about eighteen years old, she was walking home +one evening from the village, where she had been to do some shopping +for Mrs. Bell, and as she came to a solitary part of the road after +having left the last house which belonged to the village, she saw a +young man coming out of the woods at a little distance before her. She +recognized him, immediately, as a young man whom she called Albert, +who had often been employed by Mrs. Bell, at work about the farm and +garden. Albert was a very sedate and industrious young man, of frank +and open and manly countenance, and of an erect and athletic form. +Mary Erskine liked Albert very well, and yet the first impulse was, +when she saw him coming, to cross over to the other side of the road, +and thus pass him at a little distance. She did in fact take one or +two steps in that direction, but thinking almost immediately that it +would be foolish to do so, she returned to the same side of the road +and walked on. Albert walked slowly along towards Mary Erskine, until +at length they met. + +"Good evening, Mary Erskine," said Albert. + +"Good evening, Albert," said Mary Erskine. + +Albert turned and began to walk along slowly, by Mary Erskine's side. + +"I have been waiting here for you more than two hours," said Albert. + +"Have you?" said Mary Erskine. Her heart began to beat, and she was +afraid to say any thing more, for fear that her voice would tremble, + +"Yes," said Albert. "I saw you go to the village, and I wanted to +speak to you when you came back." + +Mary Erskine walked along, but did not speak. + +"And I have been waiting and watching two months for you to go to the +village," continued Albert. + +"I have not been much to the village, lately," said Mary. + +Here there was a pause of a few minutes, when Albert said again, + +"Have you any objection to my walking along with you here a little +way, Mary?" + +"No," said Mary, "not at all." + +"Mary," said Albert, after another short pause, "I have got a hundred +dollars and my axe,--and this right arm. I am thinking of buying a +lot of land, about a mile beyond Kater's corner. If I will do it, and +build a small house of one room there, will you come and be my wife? +It will have to be a _log_ house at first." + +Mary Erskine related subsequently to Mary Bell what took place at this +interview, thus far, but she would never tell the rest. + +It was evident, however, that Mary Erskine was inclined to accept this +proposal, from a conversation which took place between her and Mrs. +Bell the next evening. It was after tea. The sun had gone down, +and the evening was beautiful. Mrs. Bell was sitting in a low +rocking-chair, on a little covered platform, near the door, which they +called the stoop. There were two seats, one on each side of the stoop, +and there was a vine climbing over it. Mrs. Bell was knitting. Mary +Bell, who was then about six years old, was playing about the yard, +watching the butterflies, and gathering flowers. + +"You may stay here and play a little while," said Mary Erskine to Mary +Bell. "I am going to talk with your mother a little; but I shall be +back again pretty soon." + +Mary Erskine accordingly went to the stoop where Mrs. Bell was +sitting, and took a seat upon the bench at the side of Mrs. Bell, +though rather behind than before her. There was a railing along +behind the seat, at the edge of the stoop and a large white rose-bush, +covered with roses, upon the other side. + +Mrs. Bell perceived from Mary Erskine's air and manner that she +had something to say to her, so after remarking that it was a very +pleasant evening, she went on knitting, waiting for Mary Erskine to +begin. + +"Mrs. Bell," said Mary. + +"Well," said Mrs. Bell. + +The trouble was that Mary Erskine did not know exactly _how_ to +begin. + +She paused a moment longer and then making a great effort she said, + +"Albert wants me to go and live with him." + +"Does he?" said Mrs. Bell. "And where does he want you to go and +live?" + +"He is thinking of buying a farm," said Mary Erskine. + +"Where?" said Mrs. Bell. + +"I believe the land is about a mile from Kater's corner." + +Mrs. Bell was silent for a few minutes. She was pondering the thought +now for the first time fairly before her mind, that the little +helpless orphan child that she had taken under her care so many years +ago, had really grown to be a woman, and must soon, if not then, begin +to form her own independent plans of life. She looked at little Mary +Bell too, playing upon the grass, and wondered what she would do when +Mary Erskine was gone. + +After a short pause spent in reflections like these, Mrs. Bell resumed +the conversation by saying, + +"Well, Mary,--and what do you think of the plan?" + +"Why--I don't know," said Mary Erskine, timidly and doubtfully. + +"You are very young," said Mrs. Bell. + +"Yes," said Mary Erskine, "I always was very young. I was very young +when my father died; and afterwards, when my mother died, I was very +young to be left all alone, and to go out to work and earn my living. +And now I am very young, I know. But then I am eighteen." + +"Are you eighteen?" asked Mrs. Bell. + +"Yes," said Mary Erskine, "I was eighteen the day before yesterday." + +"It is a lonesome place,--out beyond Kater's Corner," said Mrs. Bell, +after another pause. + +"Yes," said Mary Erskine, "but I am not afraid of lonesomeness. I +never cared about seeing a great many people." + +"And you will have to work very hard," continued Mrs. Bell. + +"I know that," replied Mary; "but then I am not afraid of work any +more than I am of lonesomeness. I began to work when I was five years +old, and I have worked ever since,--and I like it." + +"Then, besides," said Mrs. Bell, "I don't know what I shall do with +_my_ Mary when you have gone away. You have had the care of her +ever since she was born." + +Mary Erskine did not reply to this. She turned her head away farther +and farther from Mrs. Bell, looking over the railing of the stoop +toward the white roses. In a minute or two she got up suddenly from +her seat, and still keeping her face averted from Mrs. Bell, she went +in by the stoop door into the house, and disappeared. In about ten +minutes she came round the corner of the house, at the place where +Mary Bell was playing, and with a radiant and happy face, and tones +as joyous as ever, she told her little charge that they would have one +game of hide and go seek, in the asparagus, and that then it would be +time for her to go to bed. + +Two days after this, Albert closed the bargain for his land, and began +his work upon it. The farm, or rather the lot, for the farm was yet +to be made, consisted of a hundred and sixty acres of land, all in +forest. A great deal of the land was mountainous and rocky, fit only +for woodland and pasturage. There were, however, a great many fertile +vales and dells, and at one place along the bank of a stream, there +was a broad tract which Albert thought would make, when the trees +were felled and it was brought into grass, a "beautiful piece of +intervale." + +Albert commenced his operations by felling several acres of trees, on +a part of his lot which was nearest the corner. A road, which had been +laid out through the woods, led across his land near this place. The +trees and bushes had been cut away so as to open a space wide enough +for a sled road in winter. In summer there was nothing but a wild +path, winding among rocks, stumps, trunks of fallen trees, and other +forest obstructions. A person on foot could get along very well, and +even a horse with a rider upon his back, but there was no chance for +any thing on wheels. Albert said that it would not be possible to get +even a wheelbarrow in. + +Albert, however, took great pleasure in going back and forth over this +road, morning and evening, with his axe upon his shoulder, and a pack +upon his back containing his dinner, while felling his trees. When +they were all down, he left them for some weeks drying in the sun, and +then set them on fire. He chose for the burning, the afternoon of a +hot and sultry day, when a fresh breeze was blowing from the west, +which he knew would fan the flames and increase the conflagration. It +was important to do this, as the amount of subsequent labor which he +would have to perform, would depend upon how completely the trees were +consumed. His fire succeeded beyond his most sanguine expectations, +and the next day he brought Mary Erskine in to see what a "splendid +burn" he had had, and to choose a spot for the log house which he was +going to build for her. + +Mary Erskine was extremely pleased with the appearance of Albert's +clearing. The area which had been opened ascended a little from the +road, and presented a gently undulating surface, which Mary Erskine +thought would make very beautiful fields. It was now, however, one +vast expanse of blackened and smoking ruins. + +Albert conducted Mary Erskine and Mary Bell--for Mary Bell had come in +with them to see the fire,--to a little eminence from which they could +survey the whole scene. + +"Look," said he, "is not that beautiful? Did you ever see a better +burn?" + +"I don't know much about burns," said Mary Erskine, "but I can see +that it will be a beautiful place for a farm. Why we can see the +pond," she added, pointing toward the south. + +This was true. The falling of the trees had opened up a fine view of +the pond, which was distant about a mile from the clearing. There +was a broad stream which flowed swiftly over a gravelly bed along the +lower part of the ground, and a wild brook which came tumbling down +from the mountains, and then, after running across the road, fell into +the larger stream, not far from the corner of the farm. The brook and +the stream formed two sides of the clearing. Beyond them, and along +the other two sides of the clearing, the tall trees of those parts of +the forest which had not been disturbed, rose like a wall and hemmed +the opening closely in. + +Albert and Mary Erskine walked along the road through the whole length +of the clearing, looking out for the best place to build their house. + +"Perhaps it will be lonesome here this winter, Mary," said Albert. "I +don't know but that you would rather wait till next spring." + +Mary Erskine hesitated about her reply. She did, in fact, wish to +come to her new home that fall, and she thought it was proper that +she should express the cordial interest which she felt in Albert's +plans;--but, then, on the other hand, she did not like to say any +thing which might seem to indicate a wish on her part to hasten the +time of their marriage. So she said doubtfully,--"I don't know;--I +don't think that it would be lonesome." + +"What do you mean, Albert," said Mary Bell, "about Mary Erskine's +coming to live here? She can't come and live here, among all these +black stumps and logs." + +Albert and Mary Erskine were too intent upon their own thoughts and +plans to pay any attention to Mary Bell's questions. So they walked +along without answering her. + +"What could we have to _do_ this fall and winter?" asked Mary +Erskine. She wished to ascertain whether she could do any good by +coming at once, or whether it would be better, for Albert's plans, to +wait until the spring. + +"Oh there will be plenty to do," said Albert. "I shall have to work a +great deal, while the ground continues open, in clearing up the land, +and getting it ready for sowing in the spring; and it will be a great +deal better for me to live here, in order to save my traveling back +and forth, so far, every night and morning. Then this winter I shall +have my tools to make,--and to finish the inside of the house, and +make the furniture; and if you have any leisure time you can spin. +But after all it will not be very comfortable for you, and perhaps you +would rather wait until spring." + +"No," said Mary Erskine. "I would rather come this fall." + +"Well," rejoined Albert, speaking in a tone of great satisfaction. +"Then I will get the house up next week, and we will be married very +soon after." + +There were very few young men whose prospects in commencing life were +so fair and favorable as those of Albert. In the first place, he was +not obliged to incur any debt on account of his land, as most young +farmers necessarily do. His land was one dollar an acre. He had one +hundred dollars of his own, and enough besides to buy a winter stock +of provisions for his house. He had expected to have gone in debt for +the sixty dollars, the whole price of the land being one hundred and +sixty; but to his great surprise and pleasure Mary Erskine told him, +as they were coming home from seeing the land after the burn, that she +had seventy-five dollars of her own, besides interest; and that she +should like to have sixty dollars of that sum go toward paying for +the land. The fifteen dollars that would be left, she said, would be +enough to buy the furniture. + +"I don't think that will be quite enough," said Albert. + +"Yes," said Mary Erskine. "We shall not want a great deal. We shall +want a table and two chairs, and some things to cook with." + +"And a bed," said Albert. + +"Yes," said Mary Erskine, "but I can make that myself. The cloth will +not cost much, and you can get some straw for me. Next summer we can +keep some geese, and so have a feather bed some day." + +"We shall want some knives and forks, and plates," said Albert. + +"Yes," said Mary Erskine, "but they will not cost much. I think +fifteen dollars will get us all we need. Besides there is more than +fifteen dollars, for there is the interest." + +The money had been put out at interest in the village. + +"Well," said Albert, "and I can make the rest of the furniture that +we shall need, this winter. I shall have a shop near the house. I have +got the tools already." + +Thus all was arranged. Albert built his house on the spot which Mary +Erskine thought would be the most pleasant for it, the week after her +visit to the land. Three young men from the neighborhood assisted him, +as is usual in such cases, on the understanding that Albert was to +help each of them as many days about their work as they worked +for him. This plan is often adopted by farmers in doing work which +absolutely requires several men at a time, as for example, the raising +of heavy logs one upon another to form the walls of a house. In order +to obtain logs for the building Albert and his helpers cut down fresh +trees from the forest, as the blackened and half-burned trunks, which +lay about his clearing, were of course unsuitable for such a work. +They selected the tallest and straightest trees, and after felling +them and cutting them to the proper length, they hauled them to +the spot by means of oxen. The ground served for a floor, and the +fire-place was made of stones. The roof was formed of sheets of +hemlock bark, laid, like slates upon rafters made of the stems of +slender trees. Albert promised Mary Erskine that, as soon as the snow +came, in the winter, to make a road, so that he could get through the +woods with a load of boards upon a sled, he would make her a floor. + +From this time forward, although Mary Erskine was more diligent and +faithful than ever in performing all her duties at Mrs. Bell's, her +imagination was incessantly occupied with pictures and images of the +new scenes into which she was about to be ushered as the mistress of +her own independent household and home. She made out lists, mentally, +for she could not write, of the articles which it would be best to +purchase. She formed and matured in her own mind all her house-keeping +plans. She pictured to herself the scene which the interior of her +dwelling would present in cold and stormy winter evenings, while she +was knitting at one side of the fire, and Albert was busy at some +ingenious workmanship, on the other; or thought of the beautiful +prospect which she should enjoy in the spring and summer following; +when fields of waving grain, rich with promises of plenty and of +wealth, would extend in every direction around her dwelling. She +cherished, in a word, the brightest anticipations of happiness. + +[Illustration: THE LOG HOUSE.] + +The house at length was finished. The necessary furniture which Albert +contrived in some way to get moved to it, was put in; and early in +August Mary Erskine was married. She was married in the morning, and a +party of the villagers escorted her on horseback to her new home. + + + + +CHAPTER III. + +MARY ERSKINE'S VISITORS. + + +Mary Erskine's anticipations of happiness in being the mistress of her +own independent home were very high, but they were more than realized. + +The place which had been chosen for the house was not only a suitable +one in respect to convenience, but it was a very pleasant one. It was +near the brook which, as has already been said, came cascading down +from among the forests and mountains, and passing along near one side +of Albert's clearing, flowed across the road, and finally emptied into +the great stream. The house was placed near the brook, in order that +Albert might have a watering-place at hand for his horses and cattle +when he should have stocked his farm. In felling the forest Albert +left a fringe of trees along the banks of the brook, that it might be +cool and shady there when the cattle went down to drink. There was a +spring of pure cold water boiling up from beneath some rocks not far +from the brook, on the side toward the clearing. The water from this +spring flowed down along a little mossy dell, until it reached the +brook. The bed over which this little rivulet flowed was stony, and +yet no stones were to be seen. They all had the appearance of rounded +tufts of soft green moss, so completely were they all covered and +hidden by the beautiful verdure. + +Albert was very much pleased when he discovered this spring, and +traced its little mossy rivulet down to the brook. He thought that +Mary Erskine would like it. So he avoided cutting down any of the +trees from the dell, or from around the spring, and in cutting down +those which grew near it, he took care to make them fall away from +the dell, so that in burning they should not injure the trees which he +wished to save. Thus that part of the wood which shaded and sheltered +the spring and the dell, escaped the fire. + +The house was placed in such a position that this spring was directly +behind it, and Albert made a smooth and pretty path leading down to +it; or rather he made the path smooth, and nature made it pretty. For +no sooner had he completed his work upon it than nature began to adorn +it by a profusion of the richest and greenest grass and flowers, +which she caused to spring up on either side. It was so in fact in all +Albert's operations upon his farm. Almost every thing that he did was +for some purpose of convenience and utility, and he himself undertook +nothing more than was necessary to secure the useful end. But his kind +and playful co-operator, nature, would always take up the work +where he left it, and begin at once to beautify it with her rich and +luxuriant verdure. For example, as soon as the fires went out over the +clearing, she began, with her sun and rain, to blanch the blackened +stumps, and to gnaw at their foundations with her tooth of decay. If +Albert made a road or a path she rounded its angles, softened away all +the roughness that his plow or hoe had left in it, and fringed it with +grass and flowers. The solitary and slender trees which had been left +standing here and there around the clearing, having escaped the fire, +she took under her special care--throwing out new and thrifty branches +from them, in every direction, and thus giving them massive and +luxuriant forms, to beautify the landscape, and to form shady retreats +for the flocks and herds which might in subsequent years graze upon +the ground. Thus while Albert devoted himself to the substantial and +useful improvements which were required upon his farm, with a view +simply to profit, nature took the work of ornamenting it under her own +special and particular charge. + +The sphere of Mary Erskine's duties and pleasures was within doors. +Her conveniences for house-keeping were somewhat limited at first, but +Albert, who kept himself busy at work on his land all day, spent the +evenings in his shanty shop, making various household implements and +articles of furniture for her. Mary sat with him, usually, at such +times, knitting by the side of the great, blazing fire, made partly +for the sake of the light that it afforded, and partly for the warmth, +which was required to temper the coolness of the autumnal evenings. +Mary took a very special interest in the progress of Albert's work, +every thing which he made being for her. Each new acquisition, as one +article after another was completed and delivered into her possession, +gave her fresh pleasure: and she deposited it in its proper place in +her house with a feeling of great satisfaction and pride. + +"Mary Erskine," said Albert one evening--for though she was married, +and her name thus really changed, Albert himself, as well as every +body else, went on calling her Mary Erskine just as before--"it +is rather hard to make you wait so long for these conveniences, +especially as there is no necessity for it. We need not have paid for +our land this three years. I might have taken the money and built a +handsome house, and furnished it for you at once." + +"And so have been in debt for the land," said Mary. + +"Yes," said Albert. "I could have paid off that debt by the profits of +the farming. I can lay up a hundred dollars a year, certainly." + +"No," said Mary Erskine. "I like this plan the best. We will pay as +we go along. It will be a great deal better to have the three hundred +dollars for something else than to pay old debts with. We will build a +better house than this if we want one, one of these years, when we get +the money. But I like this house very much as it is. Perhaps, however, +it is only because it is my own." + +It was not altogether the idea that it was her own that made Mary +Erskine like her house. The interior of it was very pleasant indeed, +especially after Albert had completed the furnishing of it, and had +laid the floor. It contained but one room, it is true, but that was a +very spacious one. There were, in fact, two apartments enclosed by the +walls and the roof, though only one of them could strictly be called +a room. The other was rather a shed, or stoop, and it was entered from +the front by a wide opening, like a great shed door. The entrance to +the house proper was by a door opening from this stoop, so as to be +sheltered from the storms in winter. There was a very large fire place +made of stones in the middle of one side of the room, with a large +flat stone for a hearth in front of it. This hearth stone was very +smooth, and Mary Erskine kept it always very bright and clean. On +one side of the fire was what they called a settle, which was a long +wooden seat with a very high back. It was placed on the side of the +fire toward the door, so that it answered the purpose of a screen to +keep off any cold currents of air, which might come in on blustering +winter nights, around the door. On the other side of the fire was a +small and \ very elegant mahogany work table. This was a present to +Mary Erskine from Mrs. Bell on the day of her marriage. There were +drawers in this table containing sundry conveniences. The upper drawer +was made to answer the purpose of a desk, and it had an inkstand in +a small division in one corner. Mrs. Bell had thought of taking this +inkstand out, and putting in some spools, or something else which Mary +Erskine would be able to use. But Mary herself would not allow her to +make such a change. She said it was true that she could not write, but +that was no reason why she should not have an inkstand. So she filled +the inkstand with ink, and furnished the desk completely in other +respects, by putting in six sheets of paper, a pen, and several +wafers. The truth was, she thought it possible that an occasion +might arise some time or other, at which Albert might wish to write +a letter; and if such a case should occur, it would give her great +pleasure to have him write his letter at her desk. + +Beyond the work table, on one of the sides of the room, was a +cupboard, and next to the cupboard a large window. This was the only +window in the house, and it had a sash which would rise and fall. Mary +Erskine had made white curtains for this window, which could be parted +in the middle, and hung up upon nails driven into the logs which +formed the wall of the house, one on each side. Of what use these +curtains could be except to make the room look more snug and pleasant +within, it would be difficult to say; for there was only one vast +expanse of forests and mountains on that side of the house, so that +there was nobody to look in. + +On the back side of the room, in one corner, was the bed. It was +supported upon a bedstead which Albert had made. The bedstead had high +posts, and was covered, like the window, with curtains. In the other +corner was the place for the loom, with the spinning-wheel between the +loom and the bed. When Mary Erskine was using the spinning-wheel, +she brought it out into the center of the room. The loom was not yet +finished. Albert was building it, working upon it from time to time as +he had opportunity. The frame of it was up, and some of the machinery +was made. + +Mary Erskine kept most of her clothes in a trunk; but Albert was +making her a bureau. + +Instead of finding it lonesome at her new home, as Mrs. Bell had +predicted, Mary Erskine had plenty of company. The girls from the +village, whom she used to know, were very fond of coming out to see +her. Many of them were much younger than she was, and they loved to +ramble about in the woods around Mary Erskine's house, and to play +along the bank of the brook. Mary used to show them too, every time +they came, the new articles which Albert had made for her, and to +explain to them the gradual progress of the improvements. Mary Bell +herself was very fond of going to see Mary Erskine,--though she was of +course at that time too young to go alone. Sometimes however Mrs. Bell +would send her out in the morning and let her remain all day, playing, +very happily, around the door and down by the spring. She used to play +all day among the logs and stumps, and upon the sandy beach by the +side of the brook, and yet when she went home at night she always +looked as nice, and her clothes were as neat and as clean as when she +went in the morning. Mrs. Bell wondered at this, and on observing that +it continued to be so, repeatedly, after several visits, she asked +Mary Bell how it happened that Mary Erskine kept her so nice. + +"Oh," said Mary Bell, "I always put on my working frock when I go out +to Mary Erskine's." + +The working frock was a plain, loose woolen dress, which Mary Erskine +made for Mary Bell, and which Mary Bell, always put on in the morning, +whenever she came to the farm. Her own dress was taken off and +laid carefully away upon the bed, under the curtains. Her shoes and +stockings were taken off too, so that she might play in the brook if +she pleased, though Mary Erskine told her it was not best to remain in +the water long enough to have her feet get very cold. + +When Mary Bell was dressed thus in her working frock, she was allowed +to play wherever she pleased, so that she enjoyed almost an absolute +and unbounded liberty. And yet there were some restrictions. She +must not go across the brook, for fear that she might get lost in the +woods, nor go out of sight of the house in any direction. She might +build fires upon any of the stumps or logs, but not within certain +limits of distance from the house, lest she should set the house on +fire. And she must not touch the axe, for fear that she might cut +herself, nor climb upon the wood-pile, for fear that it might fall +down upon her. With some such restrictions as these, she could do +whatever she pleased. + +She was very much delighted, one morning in September, when she was +playing around the house in her working frock, at finding a great hole +or hollow under a stump, which she immediately resolved to have for +her oven. She was sitting down upon the ground by the side of it, and +she began to call out as loud as she could, + +"Mary Erskine! Mary Erskine!" + +But Mary Erskine did not answer. Mary Bell could hear the sound of the +spinning-wheel in the house, and she wondered why the spinner could +not hear her, when she called so loud. + +She listened, watching for the pauses in the buzzing sound of the +wheel, and endeavored to call out in the pauses,--but with no better +success than before. At last she got up and walked along toward the +house, swinging in her hand a small wooden shovel, which Albert had +made for her to dig wells with in the sand on the margin of the brook. + +"Mary Erskine!" said she, when she got to the door of the house, +"didn't you hear me calling for you?" + +"Yes," said Mary Erskine. + +"Then why did not you come?" said Mary Bell. + +"Because I was disobedient," said Mary Erskine, "and now I suppose I +must be punished." + +"Well," said Mary Bell. The expression of dissatisfaction and reproof +upon Mary Bell's countenance was changed immediately into one of +surprise and pleasure, at the idea of Mary Erskine's being punished +for disobeying _her_. So she said, + +"Well. And what shall your punishment be?" + +"What did you want me for?" asked Mary Erskine. + +"I wanted you to see my oven." + +"Have you got an oven?" asked Mary Erskine. + +"Yes," said Mary Bell, "It is under a stump. I have got some wood, and +now I want some fire." + +"Very well," said Mary Erskine, "get your fire-pan." + +Mary Bell's fire-pan, was an old tin dipper with a long handle. It had +been worn out as a dipper, and so they used to let Mary Bell have it +to carry her fire in. There were several small holes in the bottom of +the dipper, so completely was it worn out: but this made it all the +better for a fire-pan, since the air which came up through the holes, +fanned the coals and kept them alive. This dipper was very valuable, +too, for another purpose. Mary Bell was accustomed, sometimes, to go +down to the brook and dip up water with it, in order to see the water +stream down into the brook again, through these holes, in a sort of a +shower. + +Mary Bell went, accordingly, for her fire-pan, which she found in its +place in the open stoop or shed. She came into the house, and Mary +Erskine, raking open the ashes in the fire-place, took out two large +coals with the tongs, and dropped them into the dipper. Mary Bell held +the dipper at arm's length before her, and began to walk along. + +"Hold it out upon one side," said Mary Erskine, "and then if you fall +down, you will not fall upon your fire." + +Mary Bell, obeying this injunction, went out to her oven and put the +coals in at the mouth of it. Then she began to gather sticks, +and little branches, and strips of birch bark, and other silvan +combustibles, which she found scattered about the ground, and put them +upon the coals to make the fire. She stopped now and then a minute or +two to rest and to listen to the sound of Mary Erskine's spinning. At +last some sudden thought seemed to come into her head, and throwing +down upon the ground a handful of sticks which she had in her hand, +and was just ready to put upon the fire, she got up and walked toward +the house. + +"Mary Erskine," said she, "I almost forgot about your punishment." + +"Yes," said Mary Erskine, "I hoped that you had forgot about it, +altogether." + +"Why?" said Mary Bell. + +"Because," said Mary Erskine, "I don't like to be punished." + +"But you _must_ be punished," said Mary Bell, very positively, +"and-what shall your punishment be?" + +"How would it do," said Mary Erskine, going on, however, all the time +with her spinning, "for me to have to give you two potatoes to roast +in your oven?--or one? One potato will be enough punishment for such a +little disobedience." + +"No; two," said Mary Bell. + +"Well, two," said Mary Erskine. "You may go and get them in a pail out +in the stoop. But you must wash them first, before you put them in the +oven. You can wash them down at the brook." + +"I am afraid that I shall get my fingers smutty," said Mary Bell, "at +my oven, for the stump is pretty black." + +"No matter if you do," said Mary Erskine. "You can go down and wash +them at the brook." + +"And my frock, too," said Mary Bell. + +"No matter for that either," said Mary Erskine; "only keep it as clean +as you can." + +So Mary Bell took the two potatoes and went down to the brook to wash +them. She found, however, when she reached the brook, that there was +a square piece of bark lying upon the margin of the water, and she +determined to push it in and sail it, for her ship, putting the two +potatoes on for cargo. After sailing the potatoes about for some time, +her eye chanced to fall upon a smooth spot in the sand, which she +thought would make a good place for a garden. So she determined to +_plant_ her potatoes instead of roasting them. + +She accordingly dug a hole in the sand with her fingers, and put the +potatoes in, and then after covering them, over with the sand, she +went to the oven to get her fire-pan for her watering-pot, in order to +water her garden. + +The holes in the bottom of the dipper made it an excellent +watering-pot, provided the garden to be watered was not too far from +the brook: for the shower would always begin to fall the instant the +dipper was lifted out of the water. + +[Illustration: MARY BELL AT THE BROOK.] + +After watering her garden again and again, Mary Bell concluded on the +whole not to wait for her potatoes to grow, but dug them up and began +to wash them in the brook, to make them ready for the roasting. Her +little feet sank into the sand at the margin of the water while she +held the potatoes in the stream, one in each hand, and watched the +current as it swept swiftly by them. After a while she took them out +and put them in the sun upon a flat stone to dry, and when they were +dry she carried them to her oven and buried them in the hot embers +there. + +Thus Mary Bell would amuse herself, hour after hour of the long +day, when she went to visit Mary Erskine, with an endless variety of +childish imaginings. Her working-frock became in fact, in her mind, +the emblem of complete and perfect liberty and happiness, unbounded +and unalloyed. + +The other children of the village, too, were accustomed to come out +and see Mary Erskine, and sometimes older and more ceremonious company +still. There was one young lady named Anne Sophia, who, having been +a near neighbor of Mrs. Bell's, was considerably acquainted with Mary +Erskine, though as the two young ladies had very different tastes and +habits of mind, they never became very intimate friends. Anne Sophia +was fond of dress and of company. Her thoughts were always running +upon village subjects and village people, and her highest ambition +was to live there. She had been, while Mary Erskine had lived at Mrs. +Bell's, very much interested in a young man named Gordon. He was a +clerk in a store in the village. He was a very agreeable young man, +and much more genteel and polished in his personal appearance than +Albert. He had great influence among the young men of the village, +being the leader in all the excursions and parties of pleasure which +were formed among them. Anne Sophia knew very well that Mr. Gordon +liked to see young ladies handsomely dressed when they appeared in +public, and partly to please him, and partly to gratify that very +proper feeling of pleasure which all young ladies have in appearing +well, she spent a large part of earnings in dress. She was not +particularly extravagant, nor did she get into debt; but she did +not, like Mary Erskine, attempt to lay up any of her wages. She often +endeavored to persuade Mary Erskine to follow her example. "It is of +no use," said she, "for girls like you and me to try to lay up money. +If we are ever married we shall make our husbands take care of us; and +if we are not married we shall not want our savings, for we can always +earn what we need as we go along." + +Mary Erskine had no reply at hand to make to this reasoning, but she +was not convinced by it, so she went on pursuing her own course, +while Anne Sophia pursued hers. Anne Sophia was a very capable and +intelligent girl, and as Mr. Gordon thought, would do credit to any +society in which she might be called to move. He became more and more +interested in her, and it happened that they formed an engagement to +be married, just about the time that Albert made his proposal to Mary +Erskine. + +Mr. Gordon was a very promising business man, and had an offer from +the merchant with whom he was employed as a clerk, to enter into +partnership with him, just before the time of his engagement. +He declined this offer, determining rather to go into business +independently. He had laid up about as much money as Albert had, and +by means of this, and the excellent letters of recommendation which he +obtained from the village people, he obtained a large stock of goods, +on credit, in the city. When buying his goods he also bought a small +quantity of handsome furniture, on the same terms. He hired a store. +He also hired a small white house, with green trees around it, and +a pretty garden behind. He was married nearly at the same time with +Albert, and Anne Sophia in taking possession of her genteel and +beautiful village home, was as happy as Mary Erskine was in her sylvan +solitude. Mr. Gordon told her that he had made a calculation, and he +thought there was no doubt that, if business was tolerably good that +winter, he should be able to clear enough to pay all his expenses and +to pay for his furniture. + +His calculations proved to be correct. Business was very good. He +paid for his furniture, and bought as much more on a new credit in the +spring. + +Anne Sophia came out to make a call upon Mary Erskine, about a +month after she had got established in her new home. She came in the +morning. Mr. Gordon brought her in a chaise as far as to the corner, +and she walked the rest of the way. She was dressed very handsomely, +and yet in pretty good taste. It was not wholly a call of ceremony, +for Anne Sophia felt really a strong attachment to Mary Erskine, and +had a great desire to see her in her new home. + +When she rose to take her leave, after her call was ended, she asked +Mary Erskine to come to the village and see her as soon as she could. +"I meant to have called upon you long before this," said she, "but I +have been so busy, and we have had so much company. But I want to see +you very much indeed. We have a beautiful house, and I have a great +desire to show it to you. I think you have got a beautiful place here +for a farm, one of these days; but you ought to make your husband +build you a better house. He is as able to do it as my husband is to +get me one, I have no doubt." + +Mary Erskine had no doubt either. She did not say so however, but only +replied that she liked her house very well. The real reason why she +liked it so much was one that Anne Sophia did not consider. The reason +was that it was her own. Whereas Anne Sophia lived in a house, which, +pretty as it was, belonged to other people. + +All these things, it must be remembered, took place eight or ten years +before the time when Malleville and Phonny went to visit Mary Erskine, +and when Mary Bell was only four or five years old. Phonny and +Malleville, as well as a great many other children, had grown up from +infancy since that time. In fact, the Jemmy who fell from his horse +and sprained his ankle the day they came, was Jemmy Gordon, Anne +Sophia's oldest son. + + + + +CHAPTER IV. + +CALAMITY. + + +Both Mary Erskine and Anne Sophia went on very pleasantly and +prosperously, each in her own way, for several years. Every spring +Albert cut down more trees, and made new openings and clearings. He +built barns and sheds about his house, and gradually accumulated quite +a stock of animals. With the money that he obtained by selling the +grain and the grass seed which he raised upon his land, he bought oxen +and sheep and cows. These animals fed in his pastures in the summer, +and in the winter he gave them hay from his barn. + +Mary Erskine used to take the greatest pleasure in getting up early +in the cold winter mornings, and going out with her husband to see +him feed the animals. She always brought in a large pile of wood every +night, the last thing before going to bed, and laid it upon the hearth +where it would be ready at hand for the morning fire. She also had a +pail of water ready, from the spring, and the tea-kettle by the side +of it, ready to be filled. The potatoes, too, which were to be roasted +for breakfast, were always prepared the night before, and placed in an +earthen pan, before the fire. Mary Erskine, in fact, was always very +earnest to make every possible preparation over night, for the work of +the morning. This arose partly from an instinctive impulse which made +her always wish, as she expressed it, "to do every duty as soon as it +came in sight," and partly from the pleasure which she derived from a +morning visit to the animals in the barn. She knew them all by name. +She imagined that they all knew her, and were glad to see her by +the light of her lantern in the morning. It gave her the utmost +satisfaction to see them rise, one after another, from their straw, +and begin eagerly to eat the hay which Albert pitched down to them +from the scaffold, while she, standing below upon the barn floor, held +the lantern so that he could see. She was always very careful to hold +it so that the cows and the oxen could see too. + +One day, when Albert came home from the village, he told Mary Erskine +that he had an offer of a loan of two hundred dollars, from Mr. Keep. +Mr. Keep was an elderly gentleman of the village,--of a mild and +gentle expression of countenance, and white hair. He was a man of +large property, and often had money to lend at interest. He had an +office, where he used to do his business. This office was in a wing of +his house, which was a large and handsome house in the center of the +village. Mr. Keep had a son who was a physician, and he used often to +ask his son's opinion and advice about his affairs. One day when Mr. +Keep was sitting in his office, Mr. Gordon came in and told him that +he had some plans for enlarging his business a little, and wished to +know if Mr. Keep had two or three hundred dollars that he would like +to lend for six months. Mr. Keep, who, though he was a very benevolent +and a very honorable man, was very careful in all his money dealings, +said that he would look a little into his accounts, and see how much +he had to spare, and let Mr. Gordon know the next day. + +That night Mr. Keep asked his son what he thought of lending Mr. +Gordon two or three hundred dollars. His son said doubtfully that he +did not know. He was somewhat uncertain about it. Mr. Gordon was doing +very well, he believed, but then his expenses were quite heavy, and it +was not quite certain how it would turn with him. Mr. Keep then said +that he had two or three hundred dollars on hand which he must dispose +of in some way or other, and he asked his son what he should do with +it. His son recommended that he should offer it to Albert. Albert +formerly lived at Mr. Keep's, as a hired man, so that Mr. Keep knew +him very well. + +"He is going on quite prosperously in his farm, I understand," said +the doctor. "His land is all paid for, and he is getting quite a stock +of cattle, and very comfortable buildings. I think it very likely that +he can buy more stock with the money, and do well with it. And, at all +events, you could not put the money in _safer_ hands." + +"I will propose it to him," said Mr. Keep. + +He did propose it to him that very afternoon, for it happened that +Albert went to the village that day. Albert told Mr. Keep that he was +very much obliged to him for the offer of the money, and that he would +consider whether it would be best for him to take it or not, and let +him know in the morning. So he told Mary Erskine of the offer that he +had had, as soon as he got home. + +"I am very glad to get such an offer," said Albert. + +"Shall you take the money?" said his wife. + +"I don't know," replied Albert. "I rather think not." + +"Then why are you glad to get the offer?" asked Mary Erskine. + +"Oh, it shows that my credit is good in the village. It must be very +good, indeed, to lead such a man as Mr. Keep to offer to lend me +money, of his own accord. It is a considerable comfort to know that I +can get money, whenever I want it, even if I never take it." + +"Yes," said Mary Erskine, "so it is." + +"And it is all owing to you," said Albert. + +"To me?" said Mary Erskine. + +"Yes," said he; "to your prudence and economy, and to your contented +and happy disposition. That is one thing that I always liked you +for. It is so easy to make you happy. There is many a wife, in your +situation, who could not have been happy unless their husband would +build them a handsome house and fill it with handsome furniture--even +if he had to go in debt for his land to pay for it." + +Mary Erskine did not reply, though it gratified her very much to hear +her husband commend her. + +"Well," said she at length, "I am very glad that you have got good +credit. What should you do with the money, if you borrowed it?" + +"Why, one thing that I could do," said Albert, "would be to build a +new house." + +"No," said Mary Erskine, "I like this house very much. I don't want +any other--certainly not until we can build one with our own money." + +"Then," said Albert, "I can buy more stock, and perhaps hire some +help, and get more land cleared this fall, so as to have greater crops +next spring, and then sell the stock when it has grown and increased, +and also the crops, and so get money enough to pay back the debt and +have something over." + +"Should you have much over?" asked Mary. + +"Why that would depend upon how my business turned out,--and that +would depend upon the weather, and the markets, and other things which +we can not now foresee. I think it probable that we should have a good +deal over." + +"Well," said Mary Erskine, "then I would take the money." + +"But, then, on the other hand," said Albert, "I should run some risk +of embarrassing myself, if things did not turn out well. If I were +to be sick, so that I could not attend to so much business, or if I +should Jose any of my stock, or if the crops should not do well, then +I might not get enough to pay back the debt." + +"And what should you do then?" asked Mary Erskine. + +"Why then," replied Albert, "I should have to make up the deficiency +in some other way. I might ask Mr. Keep to put off the payment of the +note, or I might borrow the money of somebody else to pay him, or I +might sell some of my other stock. I could do any of these things well +enough, but it would perhaps cause me some trouble and anxiety." + +"Then I would not take the money," said Mary Erskine. "I don't like +anxiety. I can bear any thing else better than anxiety." + +"However, I don't know any thing about it," continued Mary Erskine, +after a short pause. "You can judge best." + +They conversed on the subject some time longer, Albert being quite +at a loss to know what it was best to do. Mary Erskine, for her part, +seemed perfectly willing that he should borrow the money to buy more +stock, as she liked the idea of having more oxen, sheep, and cows. But +she seemed decidedly opposed to using borrowed money to build a new +house, or to buy new furniture. Her head would ache, she said, to lie +on a pillow of feathers that was not paid for. + +Albert finally concluded not to borrow the money, and so Mr. Keep lent +it to Mr. Gordon. + +Things went on in this way for about three or four years, and then +Albert began to think seriously of building another house. He had +now money enough of his own to build it with. His stock had become so +large that he had not sufficient barn room for his hay, and he did not +wish to build larger barns where he then lived, for in the course of +his clearings he had found a much better place for a house than the +one which they had at first selected. Then his house was beginning to +be too small for his family, for Mary Erskine had, now, two children. +One was an infant, and the other was about two years old. These +children slept in a trundle-bed, which was pushed under the great bed +in the daytime, but still the room became rather crowded. So Albert +determined to build another house. + +Mary Erskine was very much interested in this plan. She would like to +live in a handsome house as well as any other lady, only she preferred +to wait until she could have one of her own. Now that that time had +arrived, she was greatly pleased with the prospect of having her +kitchen, her sitting-room, and her bed-room, in three separate rooms, +instead of having them, as heretofore, all in one. Then the barns and +barn-yards, and the pens and sheds for the sheep and cattle, were all +going to be much more convenient than they had been; so that Albert +could take care of a greater amount of stock than before, with the +same labor. The new house, too, was going to be built in a much more +pleasant situation than the old one, and the road from it to the +corner was to be improved, so that they could go in and out with a +wagon. In a word, Mary Erskine's heart was filled with new hopes and +anticipations, as she saw before her means and sources of happiness, +higher and more extended than she had ever before enjoyed. + +When the time approached for moving into the new house Mary Erskine +occupied herself, whenever she had any leisure time, in packing up +such articles as were not in use. One afternoon while she was engaged +in this occupation, Albert came home from the field much earlier than +usual. Mary Erskine was very glad to see him, as she wished him to +nail up the box in which she had been packing her cups and saucers. +She was at work on the stoop, very near the door, so that she could +watch the children. The baby was in the cradle. The other child, whose +name was Bella, was playing about the floor. + +Albert stopped a moment to look at Mary Erskine's packing, and then +went in and took his seat upon the settle. + +"Tell me when your box is ready," said he, "and I will come and nail +it for you." + +Bella walked along toward her father--for she had just learned to +walk--and attempted to climb up into his lap. + +"Run away, Bella," said Albert. + +Mary Erskine was surprised to hear Albert tell Bella to run away, for +he was usually very glad to have his daughter come to him when he got +home from his work. She looked up to see what was the matter. He was +sitting upon the settle, and leaning his head upon his hand. + +Mary Erskine left her work and went to him. + +"Are you not well, Albert?" said she. + +"My head aches a little. It ached in the field, and that was the +reason why I thought I would come home. But it is better now. Are you +ready for me to come and nail the box?" + +"No," said Mary, "not quite; and besides, it is no matter about it +to-night. I will get you some tea." + +"No," said Albert, "finish your packing first, and I will come and +nail it. Then we can put it out of the way." + +Mary Erskine accordingly finished her packing, and Albert went to it, +to nail the cover on. He drove one or two nails, and then he put the +hammer down, and sat down himself upon the box, saying that he could +not finish the nailing after all. He was too unwell. He went into the +room, Mary Erskine leading and supporting him. She conducted him to +the bed and opened the curtains so as to let him lie down. She helped +him to undress himself, and then left him, a few minutes while she +began to get some tea. She moved the box, which she had been packing, +away from the stoop door, and put it in a corner. She drew out the +trundle-bed, and made, it ready for Bella. She sat down and gave Bella +some supper, and then put her into the trundle-bed, directing her to +shut up her eyes and go to sleep. Bella obeyed. + +Mary Erskine then went to the fire and made some tea and toast for +Albert, doing every thing in as quiet and noiseless a manner as +possible. When the tea and toast were ready she put them upon a small +waiter, and then moving her little work-table up to the side of the +bed, she put the waiter upon it. When every thing was thus ready, she +opened the curtains. Albert was asleep. + +He seemed however to be uneasy and restless, and he moaned now and +then as if in pain. Mary Erskine stood leaning over him for some time, +with a countenance filled with anxiety and concern. She then turned +away, saying to herself, "If Albert is going to be sick and to die, +what _will_ become of me?" She kneeled down upon the floor at +the foot of the bed, crossed her arms before her, laid them down very +quietly upon the counterpane, and reclined her forehead upon them. She +remained in that position for some time without speaking a word. + +Presently she rose and took the tea and toast upon the waiter, and +set them down by the fire in order to keep them warm. She next went to +look at the children, to see if they were properly covered. Then +she opened the bed-curtains a little way in order that she might see +Albert in case he should wake or move, and having adjusted them as she +wished, she went to the stoop door and took her seat there, with her +knitting-work in her hand, in a position from which, on one side she +could look into the room and observe every thing which took place +there, and on the other side, watch the road and see if any one went +by. She thought it probable that some of the workmen, who had been +employed at the new house, might be going home about that time, and +she wished to send into the village by them to ask Dr. Keep to come. + +Mary Erskine succeeded in her design of sending into the village by +one of the workmen, and Dr. Keep came about nine o'clock He prescribed +for Albert, and prepared, and left, some medicine for him. He said he +hoped that he was not going to be very sick, but he could tell better +in the morning when he would come again. + +"But you ought not to be here alone," said he to Mary Erskine. "You +ought to have some one with you." + +"No," said Mary Erskine, "I can get along very well, alone, +to-night,--and I think he will be better in the morning." + +Stories of sickness and suffering are painful to read, as the reality +is painful to witness. We will therefore shorten the tale of Mary +Erskine's anxiety and distress, by saying, at once that Albert grew +worse instead of better, every day for a fortnight, and then died. + +During his sickness Mrs. Bell spent a great deal of time at Mary +Erskine's house, and other persons, from the village, came every day +to watch with Albert, and to help take care of the children. There was +a young man also, named Thomas, whom Mary Erskine employed to come and +stay there all day, to take the necessary care of the cattle and of +the farm. They made a bed for Thomas in the scaffold in the barn. They +also made up a bed in the stoop, in a corner which they divided off +by means of a curtain. This bed was for the watchers, and for Mary +Erskine herself, when she or they wished to lie down. Mary Erskine +went to it, herself very seldom. She remained at her husband's bedside +almost all the time, day and night. Albert suffered very little +pain, and seemed to sleep most of the time. He revived a little the +afternoon before he died, and appeared as if he were going to be +better. He looked up into Mary Erskine's face and smiled. It was +plain, however, that he was very feeble. + +There was nobody but Mrs. Bell in the house, at that time, besides +Mary Erskine and the baby. Bella had gone to Mrs. Bell's house, and +Mary Bell was taking care of her. Albert beckoned his wife to come to +him, and said to her, in a faint and feeble voice, that he wished Mrs. +Bell to write something for him. Mary Erskine immediately brought her +work-table up to the bedside, opened the drawer, took out one of the +sheets of paper and a pen, opened the inkstand, and thus made every +thing ready for writing. Mrs. Bell took her seat by the table in such +a manner that her head was near to Albert's as it lay upon the pillow. + +"I am ready now," said Mrs. Bell. + +"I bequeath all my property,"--said Albert. + +Mrs. Bell wrote these words upon the paper, and then said, + +"Well: I have written that." + +"To Mary Erskine my wife," said Albert. + +"I have written that," said Mrs. Bell, a minute afterwards. + +"Now hand it to me to sign," said Albert. + +They put the paper upon a book, and raising Albert up in the bed, +they put the pen into his hand. He wrote his name at the bottom of the +writing at the right hand. Then moving his hand to the left, he wrote +the word '_witness_' under the writing on that side. His hand +trembled, but he wrote the word pretty plain. As he finished writing +it he told Mrs. Bell that she must sign her name as witness. When this +had been done he gave back the paper and the pen into Mary Erskine's +hand, and said that she must take good care of that paper, for it was +very important. He then laid his head down again upon the pillow and +shut his eyes. He died that night. + +Mary Erskine was entirely overwhelmed with grief, when she found that +all was over. In a few hours, however, she became comparatively calm, +and the next day she began to help Mrs. Bell in making preparations +for the funeral. She sent for Bella to come home immediately. Mrs. +Bell urged her very earnestly to take both the children, and go with +her to _her_ house, after the funeral, and stay there for a few +days at least, till she could determine what to do. + +"No," said Mary Erskine. "It will be better for me to come back here." + +"What do you think you shall do?" said Mrs. Bell. + +"I don't know," said Mary Erskine. "I can't even begin to think now. I +am going to wait a week before I try to think about it at all." + +"And in the mean time you are going to stay in this house." + +"Yes," said Mary Erskine, "I think that is best." + +"But you must not stay here alone," said Mrs. Bell. "I will come back +with you and stay with you, at least one night." + +"No," said Mary Erskine. "I have got to learn to be alone now, and +I may as well begin at once. I am very much obliged to you for all +your--" + +Here Mary Erskine's voice faltered, and she suddenly stopped. Mrs. +Bell pitied her with all her heart, but she said no more. She remained +at the house while the funeral procession was gone to the grave; and +some friends came back with Mary Erskine, after the funeral. They all, +however, went away about sunset, leaving Mary Erskine alone with her +children. + +As soon as her friends had gone, Mary Erskine took the children and +sat down in a rocking-chair, before the fire, holding them both in +her lap, the baby upon one side and Bella upon the other, and began to +rock back and forth with great rapidity. She kissed the children again +and again, with many tears, and sometimes she groaned aloud, in the +excess of her anguish. She remained sitting thus for half an hour. The +twilight gradually faded away. The flickering flame, which rose from +the fire in the fire-place, seemed to grow brighter as the daylight +disappeared, and to illuminate the whole interior of the room, so as +to give it a genial and cheerful expression. Mary Erskine gradually +became calm. The children, first the baby, and then Bella, fell +asleep. Finally Mary Erskine herself, who was by this time entirely +exhausted with watching, care, and sorrow, fell asleep too. Mary +Erskine slept sweetly for two full hours, and then was awaked by the +nestling of the baby. + +[Illustration: THE WIDOW AND THE FATHERLESS.] + +When Mary Erskine awoke she was astonished to find her mind perfectly +calm, tranquil, and happy. She looked down upon her children--Bella +asleep and the baby just awaking--with a heart full of maternal joy +and pleasure. Her room, it seemed to her, never appeared so bright and +cheerful and happy as then. She carried Bella to the bed and laid her +gently down in Albert's place, and then, going back to the fire, she +gave the baby the food which it required, and rocked it to sleep. +Her heart was resigned, and tranquil, and happy, She put the baby, at +length, into the cradle, and then, kneeling down, she thanked God with +her whole soul for having heard her prayer, and granted her the spirit +of resignation and peace. She then pushed open the curtains, and +reclined herself upon the bed, where she lay for some time, with a +peaceful smile upon her countenance, watching the flashing of a little +tongue, of flame, which broke out at intervals from the end of a brand +in the fire. After lying quietly thus, for a little while, she closed +her eyes, and gradually fell asleep again. + +She slept very profoundly. It was a summer night, although, as usual, +Mary Erskine had a fire. Clouds rose in the west, bringing with them +gusts of wind and rain. The wind and the rain beat against the window, +but they did not wake her. It thundered. The thunder did not wake her. +The shower passed over, and the sky became, serene again, while Mary +Erskine slept tranquilly on. At length the baby began to move in the +cradle. Mary Erskine heard the first sound that its nestling made, and +raised herself up suddenly. The fire had nearly gone out. There was +no flame, and the room was lighted only by the glow of the burning +embers. Mary Erskine was frightened to find herself alone. The +tranquillity and happiness which she had experienced a few hours ago +were all gone, and her mind was filled, instead, with an undefined and +mysterious distress and terror. She went to the fire-place and built +a new fire, for the sake of its company. She took the baby from the +cradle and sat down in the rocking-chair, determining not to go to +bed again till morning. She went to the window and looked out at the +stars, to see if she could tell by them how long it would be before +the morning would come. She felt afraid, though she knew not why, and +holding the baby in her arms, with its head upon her shoulder, she +walked back and forth across the room, in great distress and anguish, +longing for the morning to come. Such is the capriciousness of grief. + + + + +CHAPTER V. + +CONSULTATIONS. + + +Mrs. Bell went home on the evening of the funeral, very much exhausted +and fatigued under the combined effects of watching, anxiety, and +exertion. She went to bed, and slept very soundly until nearly +midnight. The thunder awaked her. + +She felt solitary and afraid. Mary Bell, who was then about nine years +old, was asleep in a crib, in a corner of the room. There was a little +night lamp, burning dimly on the table, and it shed a faint and dismal +gleam upon the objects around it. Every few minutes, however, the +lightning would flash into the windows and glare a moment upon the +walls, and then leave the room in deeper darkness than ever. The +little night lamp, whose feeble beam had been for the moment entirely +overpowered, would then gradually come out to view again, to diffuse +once more its faint illumination, until another flash of lightning +came to extinguish it as before. + +Mrs. Bell rose from her bed, and went to the crib to see if Mary Bell +was safe. She found her sleeping quietly. Mrs. Bell drew the crib out +a little way from the wall, supposing that she should thus put it into +a somewhat safer position. Then she lighted a large lamp. Then +she closed all the shutters of the room, in order to shut out the +lightning. Then she went to bed again, and tried to go to sleep. But +she could not. She was thinking of Mary Erskine, and endeavoring to +form some plan for her future life. She could not, however, determine +what it was best for her to do. + +In the morning, after breakfast, she sat down at the window, with her +knitting work in her hand, looking very thoughtful and sad. Presently +she laid her work down in her lap, and seemed lost in some melancholy +reverie. + +Mary Bell, who had been playing about the floor for some time, came +up to her mother, and seeing her look so thoughtful and sorrowful, she +said, + +"Mother, what is the matter with you?" + +"Why, Mary," said Mrs. Bell, in a melancholy tone, "I was thinking of +poor Mary Erskine." + +"Well, mother," said Mary Bell, "could not you give her a little +money, if she is poor? I will give her my ten cents." + +[Illustration: MRS. BELL.] + +Mary Bell had a silver piece of ten cents, which she kept in a little +box, in her mother's room up stairs. + +"Oh, she is not poor for want of money," said Mrs. Bell. "Her husband +made his will, before he died, and left her all his property." + +"Though I told Mr. Keep about it last night," continued Mrs. Bell, +talking half to herself and half to Mary, "and he said the will was +not good." + +"Not good," said Mary. "I think it is a very good will indeed. I am +sure Mary Erskine ought to have it all. Who should have it, if not +she?" + +"The children, I suppose," said her mother. + +"The children!" exclaimed Mary Bell. "Hoh! They are not half big +enough. They are only two babies; a great baby and a little one." + +Mrs. Bell did not answer this, nor did she seem to take much notice of +it, but took up her knitting again, and went on musing as before. Mary +Bell did not understand very well about the will. The case was this: + +The law, in the state where Mary Erskine lived, provided that when a +man died, as Albert had done, leaving a wife and children, and a farm, +and also stock, and furniture, and other such movable property, if +he made no will, the wife was to have a part of the property, and the +rest must be saved for the children, in order to be delivered to them, +when they should grow up, and be ready to receive it and use it. The +farm, when there was a farm, was to be kept until the children should +grow up, only their mother was to have one third of the benefit of +it,--that is, one third of the rent of it, if they could let it--until +the children became of age. The amount of the other two thirds was to +be kept for them. In respect to all movable property, such as stock +and tools, and furniture, and other things of that kind, since they +could not very conveniently be kept till the children were old enough +to use them, they were to be sold, and the wife was to have half the +value, and the children the other half. + +In respect to the children's part of all the property, they were +not, themselves, to have the care of it, but some person was to be +appointed to be their guardian. This guardian was to have the care of +all their share of the property, until they were of age, when it was +to be paid over into their hands. + +If, however, the husband, before his death, was disposed to do so, he +might make a will, and give all the property to whomsoever he pleased. +If he decided, as Albert had done, to give it all to his wife, then +it would come wholly under her control, at once. She would be under no +obligation to keep any separate account of the children's share, but +might expend it all herself, or if she were so inclined, she might +keep it safely, and perhaps add to it by the proceeds of her own +industry, and then, when the children should grow up, she might give +them as much as her maternal affection should dictate. + +In order that the property of men who die, should be disposed of +properly, according to law, or according to the will, if any will be +made, it is required that soon after the death of any person takes +place, the state of the case should be reported at a certain public +office, instituted to attend to this business. There is such an office +in every county in the New England states. It is called the Probate +office. The officer, who has this business in charge, is called the +Judge of Probate. There is a similar system in force, in all the +other states of the Union, though the officers are sometimes called by +different names from those which they receive in New England. + +Now, while Albert was lying sick upon his bed, he was occupied a great +deal of the time, while they thought that he was asleep, in thinking +what was to become of his wife and children in case he should die. +He knew very well that in case he died without making any will, his +property must be divided, under the direction of the Judge of Probate, +and one part of it be kept for the children, while Mary Erskine would +have the control only of the other part. This is a very excellent +arrangement in all ordinary cases, so that the law, in itself, is a +very good law. There are, however, some cases, which are exceptions, +and Albert thought that Mary Erskine's case was one. It was owing, +in a great measure, to her prudence and economy, to her efficient +industry, and to her contented and happy disposition, that he had been +able to acquire any property, instead of spending all that he earned, +like Mr. Gordon, as fast as he earned it. Then, besides, he knew +that Mary Erskine would act as conscientiously and faithfully for the +benefit of the children, if the property was all her own, as she +would if a part of it was theirs, and only held by herself, for safe +keeping, as their guardian. Whereas, if this last arrangement went +into effect, he feared that it would make her great trouble to keep +the accounts, as she could not write, not even to sign her name. He +determined, therefore, to make a will, and give all his property, of +every kind, absolutely to her. This he did, in the manner described in +the last chapter. + +The law invests every man with a very absolute power in respect to his +property, authorizing him to make any disposition of it whatever, and +carrying faithfully into effect, after his death, any wish that he may +have expressed in regard to it, as his deliberate and final intention. +It insists, however, that there should be evidence that the wish, so +expressed, is really a deliberate and final act. It is not enough that +the man should say in words what his wishes are. The will must be in +writing, and it must be signed; or if the sick man can not write, he +must make some mark with the pen, at the bottom of the paper, to stand +instead of a signature, and to show that he considers the act, which +he is performing, as a solemn and binding transaction. Nor will it do +to have the will executed in the presence of only one witness; for if +that were allowed, designing persons would sometimes persuade a sick +man, who was rich, to sign a will which they themselves had written, +telling him, perhaps, that it was only a receipt, or some other +unimportant paper, and thus inducing him to convey his property in a +way that he did not intend. The truth is, that there is necessity for +a much greater degree of precautionary form, in the execution of a +will, than in almost any other transaction; for as the man himself +will be dead and gone when the time comes for carrying the will into +effect,--and so can not give any explanation of his designs, it is +necessary to make them absolutely clear and certain, independently +of him. It was, accordingly, the law, in the state where Mary Erskine +lived, that there should be three witnesses present, when any person +signed a will; and also that when signing the paper, the man should +say that he knew that it was his will. If three credible persons thus +attested the reality and honesty of the transaction, it was thought +sufficient, in all ordinary cases, to make it sure. + +Albert, it seems, was not aware how many witnesses were required. When +he requested Mrs. Bell to sign his will, as witness, he thought that +he was doing all that was necessary to make it valid. When, however, +Mrs. Bell, afterwards, in going home, met Mr. Keep and related to +him the transaction, he said that he was afraid that the will was not +good, meaning that it would not stand in law. + +The thought that the will was probably not valid, caused Mrs. Bell a +considerable degree of anxiety and concern, as she imagined that its +failure would probably cause Mary Erskine a considerable degree of +trouble and embarrassment, though she did not know precisely how. She +supposed that the children's share of the property must necessarily be +kept separate and untouched until they grew up, and that in the mean +time their mother would have to work very hard in order to maintain +herself and them too. But this is not the law. The guardian of +children, in such cases, is authorized to expend, from the children's +share of property, as much as is necessary for their maintenance while +they are children; and it is only the surplus, if there is any, which +it is required of her to pay over to them, when they come of age. It +would be obviously unjust, in cases where children themselves have +property left them by legacy, or falling to them by inheritance, to +compel their father or mother to toil ten or twenty years to feed and +clothe them, in order that they might have their property, whole and +untouched, when they come of age. All that the law requires is +that the property bequeathed to children, or falling to them by +inheritance, shall always be exactly ascertained, and an account of it +put upon record in the Probate office: and then, that a guardian shall +be appointed, who shall expend only so much of it, while the children +are young, as is necessary for their comfortable support and proper +education; and then, when they come of age, if there is any surplus +left, that it shall be paid over to them. In Mary Erskine's case, +these accounts would, of course, cause her some trouble, but it would +make but little difference in the end. + +Mrs. Bell spent a great deal of time, during the day, in trying to +think what it would be best for Mary Erskine to do, and also in trying +to think what she could herself do for her. She, however, made very +little progress in respect to either of those points. It seemed to her +that Mary Erskine could not move into the new house, and attempt to +carry on the farm, and, on the other hand, it appeared equally out +of the question for her to remain where she was, in her lonesome log +cabin. She might move into the village, or to some house nearer the +village, but what should she do in that case for a livelihood. In a +word, the more that Mrs. Bell reflected upon the subject, the more at +a loss she was. + +She determined to go and see Mary Erskine after dinner, again, as the +visit would at least be a token of kindness and sympathy, even if it +should do no other good. She arrived at the house about the middle +of the afternoon. She found Mary Erskine busily at work, putting the +house in order, and rectifying the many derangements which sickness +and death always occasion. Mary Erskine received Mrs. Bell at first +with a cheerful smile, and seemed, to all appearance, as contented and +happy as usual. The sight of Mrs. Bell, however, recalled forcibly to +her mind her irremediable loss, and overwhelmed her heart, again, with +bitter grief. She went to the window, where her little work-table +had been placed, and throwing herself down in a chair before it, she +crossed her arms upon the table, laid her forehead down upon them in +an attitude of despair, and burst into tears. + +Mrs. Bell drew up toward her and stood by her side in silence. She +pitied her with all her heart, but she did not know what to say to +comfort her. + +Just then little Bella came climbing up the steps, from the stoop, +with some flowers in her hand, which she had gathered in the yard. As +soon as she had got up into the room she stood upon her feet and went +dancing along toward the baby, who was playing upon the floor, singing +as she danced. She gave the baby the flowers, and then, seeing that +her mother was in trouble, she came up toward the place and stood +still a moment, with a countenance expressive of great concern. She +put her arm around her mother's neck, saying in a very gentle and +soothing tone, + +"Mother! what is the matter, mother?" + +Mary Erskine liberated one of her arms, and clasped Bella with it +fondly, but did not raise her head, or answer. + +"Go and get some flowers for your mother," said Mrs. Bell, "like those +which you got for the baby." + +"Well," said Bella, "I will." So she turned away, and went singing and +dancing out of the room. + +"Mary," said Mrs. Bell. "I wish that you would shut up this house and +take the children and come to my house, at least for a while, until +you can determine what to do." + +Mary Erskine shook her head, but did not reply. She seemed, however, +to be regaining her composure. Presently she raised her head, smoothed +down her hair, which was very soft and beautiful, readjusted her +dress, and sat up, looking out at the window. + +"If you stay here," continued Mrs. Bell, "you will only spend your +time in useless and hopeless grief." + +"No," said Mary Erskine, "I am not going to do any such a thing." + +"Have you begun to think at all what you shall do?" asked Mrs. Bell. + +"No," said Mary Erskine. "When any great thing happens, I always have +to wait a little while till I get accustomed to knowing that it has +happened, before I can determine what to do about it. It seems as if +I did not more than half know yet, that Albert is dead. Every time the +door opens I almost expect to see him come in." + +"Do you think that you shall move to the new house?" asked Mrs. Bell. + +"No," said Mary Erskine, "I see that I can't do that. I don't wish to +move there, either, now." + +"There's one thing," continued Mrs. Bell after a moment's pause, "that +perhaps I ought to tell you, though it is rather bad news for you. Mr. +Keep says that he is afraid that the will, which Albert made, is not +good in law." + +"Not good! Why not?" asked Mary Erskine. + +"Why because there is only one witness The law requires that there +should be three witnesses, so as to be sure that Albert really signed +the will." + +"Oh no," said Mary Erskine. "One witness is enough, I am sure. The +Judge of Probate knows you, and he will believe you as certainly as he +would a dozen witnesses." + +"But I suppose," said Mrs. Bell, "that it does not depend upon the +Judge of Probate. It depends upon the law." + +Mary Erskine was silent. Presently she opened her drawer and took out +the will and looked at it mysteriously. She could not read a word of +it. + +"Read it to me, Mrs. Bell," said she, handing the paper to Mrs. Bell. + +Mrs. Bell read as follows: + + + "I bequeath all my property to my wife, Mary Erskine. Albert + Forester. Witness, Mary Bell." + + +"I am sure that is all right," said Mary Erskine. "It is very plain, +and one witness is enough. Besides, Albert would know how it ought to +be done." + +"But then," she continued after a moment's pause, "he was very sick +and feeble. Perhaps he did not think. I am sure I shall be very sorry +if it is not a good will, for if I do not have the farm and the stock, +I don't know what I shall do with my poor children." + +Mary Erskine had a vague idea that if the will should prove invalid, +she and her children would lose the property, in some way or other, +entirely,--though she did not know precisely how. After musing upon +this melancholy prospect a moment she asked, + +"Should not I have _any_ of the property, if the will proves not +to be good?" + +"Oh yes," said Mrs. Bell, "you will have a considerable part of it, at +any rate." + +"How much?" asked Mary Erskine. + +"Why about half, I believe," replied Mrs. Bell. + +"Oh," said Mary Erskine, apparently very much relieved. "That will +do very well. Half will be enough. There is a great deal of property. +Albert told me that the farm and the new house are worth five hundred +dollars, and the stock is worth full three hundred more. And Albert +does not owe any thing at all." + +"Well," said Mrs. Bell. "You will have half. Either half or a third, I +forget exactly which." + +"And what becomes of the rest?" asked Mary Erskine. + +"Why the rest goes to the children," said Mrs. Bell. + +"To the children!" repeated Mary Erskine. + +"Yes," said she, "you will have to be appointed guardian, and take +care of it for them, and carry in your account, now and then, to the +Judge of Probate." + +"Oh," said Mary Erskine, her countenance brightening up with an +expression of great relief and satisfaction. "That is just the same +thing. If it is to go to the children, and I am to take care of it for +them, it is just the same thing. I don't care any thing about the will +at all." + +So saying, she threw the paper down upon the table, as if it was of no +value whatever. + +"But there's one thing," she said again, after pausing a few minutes. +"I can't keep any accounts. I can not even write my name." + +"That is no matter," said Mrs. Bell. "There will be but little to +do about the accounts, and it is easy to get somebody to do that for +you." + +"I wish I had learned to write," said Mary Erskine. + +Mrs. Bell said nothing, but in her heart she wished so too. + +"Do you think that I could possibly learn now?" asked Mary Erskine. + +"Why,--I don't know,--perhaps, if you had any one to teach you." + +"Thomas might teach me, perhaps," said Mary Erskine, doubtfully. Then, +in a moment she added again, in a desponding tone,--"but I don't know +how long he will stay here." + +"Then you don't know at all yet," said Mrs. Bell, after a short pause, +"what you shall conclude to do." + +"No," replied Mary Erskine, "not at all. I am going on, just as I am +now, for some days, without perplexing myself at all about it. And I +am not going to mourn and make myself miserable. I am going to make +myself as contented and happy as I can, with my work and my children." + +Here Mary Erskine suddenly laid her head down upon her arms again, on +the little work-table before her, and burst into tears. After sobbing +convulsively a few minutes she rose, hastily brushed the tears away +with her handkerchief, and went toward the door. She then took the +water pail, which stood upon a bench near the door, and said that +she was going to get some water, at the spring, for tea, and that she +would be back in a moment. She returned very soon, with a countenance +entirely serene. + +"I have been trying all day," said Mrs. Bell, "to think of something +that I could do for you, to help you or to relieve you in some way or +other; but I can not think of any thing at all that I can do." + +"Yes," said Mary Erskine, "there is one thing that you could do +for me, that would be a very great kindness, a very great kindness +indeed." + +"What is it?" asked Mrs. Bell. + +"I am afraid that you will think it is too much for me to ask." + +"No," said Mrs. Bell, "what is it?" + +Mary Erskine hesitated a moment, and then said, + +"To let Mary Bell come and stay here with me, a few days." + +"Do you mean all night, too?" asked Mrs. Bell. + +"Yes," said Mary Erskine, "all the time." + +"Why, you have got two children to take care of now," replied Mrs. +Bell, "and nobody to help you. I should have thought that you would +have sooner asked me to take Bella home with me." + +"No," said Mary Erskine. "I should like to have Mary Bell here, very +much, for a few days." + +"Well," said Mrs. Bell, "she shall certainly come. I will send her, +to-morrow morning." + + + + +CHAPTER VI. + +MARY BELL IN THE WOODS. + + +Mary Erskine had a bible in her house, although she could not read +it. When Albert was alive he was accustomed to read a chapter every +evening, just before bed-time, and then he and Mary Erskine would +kneel down together, by the settle which stood in the corner, while he +repeated his evening prayer. This short season of devotion was always +a great source of enjoyment to Mary Erskine. If she was tired and +troubled, it soothed and quieted her mind. If she was sorrowful, it +comforted her. If she was happy, it seemed to make her happiness more +deep and unalloyed. + +Mary Erskine could not read the bible, but she could repeat a +considerable number of texts and verses from it, and she knew, too, +the prayer, which Albert had been accustomed to offer, almost by +heart. So after Mrs. Bell had gone home, as described in the last +chapter, and after she herself had undressed the children and put them +to bed, and had finished all the other labors and duties of the day, +she took the bible down from its shelf, and seating herself upon the +settle, so as to see by the light of the fire, as Albert had been +accustomed to do, she opened the book, and then began to repeat such +verses as she could remember. At length she closed the book, and +laying it down upon the seat of the settle, in imitation of Albert's +custom, she kneeled down before it, and repeated the prayer. The use +of the bible itself, in this service, was of course a mere form:--but +there is sometimes a great deal of spiritual good to be derived from +a form, when the heart is in it, to give it meaning and life. Mary +Erskine went to bed comforted and happy; and she slept peacefully +through each one of the three periods of repose, into which the care +of an infant by a mother usually divides the night. + +In the morning, the first thought which came into her mind was, that +Mary Bell was coming to see her. She anticipated the visit from her +former charge with great pleasure. She had had Mary Bell under her +charge from early infancy, and she loved her, accordingly, almost as +much as if she were her own child. Besides, as Mary Bell had grown up +she had become a very attractive and beautiful child, so kind to all, +so considerate, so gentle, so active and intelligent, and at the +same time so docile, and so quiet, that she was a universal favorite +wherever she went. Mary Erskine was full of joy at the idea of having +her come and spend several days and nights too, at her house, and she +was impatient for the time to arrive when she might begin to expect +her. At eight o'clock, she began to go often to the door to look down +the road. At nine, she began to feel uneasy. At ten, she put on +her hood and went down the road, almost to the corner, to meet +her--looking forward intensely all the way, hoping at every turn to +see her expected visitor advancing along the path. She went on thus +until she came in sight of the corner, without seeing or hearing any +thing of Mary Bell; and then she was compelled to return home alone, +disappointed and sad. She waited dinner from twelve until one, but +no Mary Bell appeared. Mary Erskine then concluded that something had +happened to detain her expected visitor at home, and that she might +be disappointed of the visit altogether. Still she could not but hope +that Mary would come in the course of the afternoon. The hours of +the afternoon, however, passed tediously away, and the sun began to +decline toward the west; still there was no Mary Bell. The cause of +her detention will now be explained. + +When Mary Bell came down to breakfast, on the morning after her +mother's visit to Mary Erskine, her mother told her, as she came +into the room, that she had an invitation for her to go out to Mary +Erskine's that day. + +"And may I go?" asked Mary Bell. + +"Yes," said her mother, "I think I shall let you go." + +"I am _so_ glad!" said Mary Bell, clapping her hands. + +"Mary Erskine wishes to have you stay there several days," continued +her mother. + +Mary Bell began to look a little sober again. She was not quite sure +that she should be willing to be absent from her mother, for so many +days. + +"Could not I come home every night?" said she. + +"Why, she wishes," answered Mrs. Bell, "to have you stay there all the +time, day and night, for several days. It is an opportunity for you +to do some good. You could not do Mary Erskine any good by giving her +your money, for she has got plenty of money; nor by carrying her any +thing good to eat, for her house is full of abundance, and she knows +as well how to make good things as any body in town. But you can do +her a great deal of good by going and staying with her, and keeping +her company. Perhaps you can help her a little, in taking care of the +children." + +"Well," said Mary Bell, "I should like to go." + +So Mrs. Bell dressed Mary neatly, for the walk, gave her a very small +tin pail, with two oranges in it for Mary Erskine's children, and then +sent out word to the hired man, whose name was Joseph, to harness the +horse into the wagon. When the wagon was ready, she directed Joseph to +carry Mary to the corner, and see that she set out upon the right road +there, toward Mary Erskine's house. It was only about half a mile +from the corner to the house, and the road, though crooked, stony, and +rough, was very plain, and Mary Bell had often walked over it alone. + +There was, in fact, only one place where there could be any danger +of Mary Bell's losing her way, and that was at a point about midway +between the corner and Mary Erskine's house, where a road branched off +to the right, and led into the woods. There was a large pine-tree at +this point, which Mary Bell remembered well; and she knew that she +must take the left-hand road when she reached this tree. There were +various little paths, at other places, but none that could mislead +her. + +When Joseph, at length, set Mary Bell down in the path at the corner, +she stood still, upon a flat rock by the side of the road, to see him +turn the wagon and set out upon his return. + +"Good-bye, Joseph," said she. "I am going to be gone several days." + +"Good-bye," said Joseph, turning to look round at Mary Bell, as the +wagon slowly moved away. + +"Bid mother good-bye," said Mary Bell,--"and Joseph, don't you forget +to water my geranium." + +"No," said Joseph, "and don't you forget to take the left-hand road." + +"No," said Mary Bell. + +She felt a slight sensation of lonesomeness, to be left there in +solitude at the entrance of a dark and somber wood, especially when +she reflected that it was to be several days before she should see her +mother again. But then, calling up to her mind a vivid picture of Mary +Erskine's house, and of the pleasure that she should enjoy there, in +playing with Bella and the baby, she turned toward the pathway into +the woods, and walked resolutely forward, swinging her pail in her +hand and singing a song. + +There were a great many birds in the woods; some were hopping about +upon the rocks and bushes by the road-side. Others were singing in +solitary places, upon the tops of tall trees in the depths of the +forest, their notes being heard at intervals, in various directions, +as if one was answering another, to beguile the solemn loneliness of +the woods. The trees were very tall, and Mary Bell, as she looked up +from her deep and narrow pathway, and saw the lofty tops rocking to +and fro with a very slow and gentle motion, as they were waved by the +wind, it seemed to her that they actually touched the sky. + +At one time she heard the leaves rustling, by the side of the road, +and looking in under the trees, she saw a gray squirrel, just in the +act of leaping up from the leaves upon the ground to the end of a log. +As soon as he had gained this footing, he stopped and looked round at +Mary Bell. Mary Bell stopped too; each looked at the other for several +seconds, in silence,--the child with an expression of curiosity and +pleasure upon her countenance, and the squirrel with one of wonder and +fear upon his. Mary Bell made a sudden motion toward him with her hand +to frighten him a little. It did frighten him. He turned off and ran +along the log as fast as he could go, until he reached the end of it, +and disappeared. + +"Poor Bobbin," said Mary Bell, "I am sorry that I frightened you +away." + +A few steps farther on in her walk, Mary Bell came to a place where +a great number of yellow butterflies had settled down together in the +path. Most of them were still, but a few were fluttering about, to +find good places. + +"Oh, what pretty butterflies!" said Mary Bell. "They have been flying +about, I suppose, till they have got tired, and have stopped to rest. +But if I were a butterfly, I would rest upon flowers, and not upon the +ground." + +Mary Bell paused and looked upon the butterflies a moment, and then +said, + +"And now how shall I get by? I am sure I don't want to tread upon +those butterflies. I will sit down here, myself, on a stone, and wait +till they get rested and fly away. Besides, I am tired myself, and +_I_ shall get rested too." + +Just as she took her seat she saw that there was a little path, which +diverged here from the main road, and turned into the woods a little +way, seeming to come back again after a short distance. There were +many such little paths, here and there, running parallel to the main +road. They were made by the cows, in the spring of the year when the +roads were wet, to avoid the swampy places. These places were now all +dry, and the bye-paths were consequently of no use, though traces of +them remained. + +"No," said Mary Bell. "I will not stop to rest; I am not very tired; +so I will go around by this little path. It will come into the road +again very soon." + +Mary Bell's opinion would have been just, in respect to any other path +but this one; but it so happened, very unfortunately for her, that +now, although not aware of it, she was in fact very near the great +pine-tree, where the road into the woods branched off, and the path +which she was determining to take, though it commenced in the main +road leading to Mary Erskine's, did not return to it again, but after +passing, by a circuitous and devious course, through the bushes a +little way, ended in the branch road which led into the woods, at a +short distance beyond the pine-tree. + +Mary Bell was not aware of this state of things, but supposed, without +doubt, that the path would come out again into the same road that +it left, and that, she could pass round through it, and so avoid +disturbing the butterflies. She thought, indeed, it might possibly be +that the path would not come back at all, but would lose itself in +the woods; and to guard against this danger, she determined that after +going on for a very short distance, if she found that it did not come +out into the road again, she would come directly back. The idea of +its coming out into a wrong road did not occur to her mind as a +possibility. + +She accordingly entered the path, and after proceeding in it a little +way she was quite pleased to see it coming out again into what she +supposed was the main road. Dismissing, now, all care and concern, she +walked forward in a very light-hearted and happy manner. The road +was very similar in its character to the one which she ought to have +taken, so that there was nothing in the appearances around her to lead +her to suppose that she was wrong. She had, moreover, very little idea +of measures of time, and still less of distance, and thus she went on +for more than an hour before she began to wonder why she did not get +to Mary Erskine's. + +She began to suspect, then, that she had in some way or other lost +the right road. She, however, went on, looking anxiously about for +indications of an approach to the farm, until at length she saw signs +of an opening in the woods, at some distance before her. She concluded +to go on until she came to this opening, and if she could not tell +where she was by the appearance of the country there, she would go +back again by the road she came. + +The opening, when she reached it, appeared to consist of a sort of +pasture land, undulating in its surface, and having thickets of +trees and bushes scattered over it, here and there. There was a small +elevation in the land, at a little distance from the place where Mary +Bell came out, and she thought that she would go to the top of +this elevation, and look for Mary Erskine's house, all around. She +accordingly did so, but neither Mary Erskine's house nor any other +human habitation was anywhere to be seen. + +She sat down upon a smooth stone, which was near her, feeling tired +and thirsty, and beginning to be somewhat anxious in respect to her +situation. She thought, however, that there was no great danger, for +her mother would certainly send Joseph out into the woods to find her, +as soon as she heard that she was lost. She concluded, at first, to +wait where she was until Joseph should come, but on second thoughts, +she concluded to go back by the road which had led her to the opening, +and so, perhaps meet him on the way. She was very thirsty, and wished +very much that one of the oranges in the pail belonged to her, for she +would have liked to eat one very much indeed. But they were not either +of them hers. One belonged to Bella, and the other to the baby. + +She walked back again to the woods, intending to return toward the +corner, by the road in which she came, but now she could not find the +entrance to it. She wandered for some time, this way and that, along +the margin of the wood, but could find no road. She, however, at +length found something which she liked better. It was a beautiful +spring of cool water, bubbling up from between the rocks on the side +of a little hill. She sat down by the side of this spring, took off +the cover from her little pail, took out the oranges and laid them +down carefully in a little nook where they would not roll away, and +then using the pail for a dipper, she dipped up some water, and had an +excellent drink. + +"What a good spring this is!" said she to herself. "It is as good as +Mary Erskine's." + +It was the time of the year in which raspberries were ripe, and Mary +Bell, in looking around her from her seat near the spring, saw at +a distance a place which appeared as if there were raspberry bushes +growing there. + +"I verily believe that there are some raspberries," said she. "I will +go and see; if I could only find plenty of raspberries, it would be +all that I should want." + +The bushes proved to be raspberry bushes, as Mary had supposed, and +she found them loaded with fruit. She ate of them abundantly, and was +very much refreshed. She would have filled her pail besides, so as +to have some to take along with her, but she had no place to put the +oranges, except within the pail. + +It was now about noon; the sun was hot, and Mary Bell began to be +pretty tired. She wished that they would come for her. She climbed up +upon a large log which lay among the bushes, and called as loud as she +could, + +"_Mary Erskine! Mary Erskine!_" + +Then after pausing a moment, and listening in vain for an answer, she +renewed her call, + + + "_Thom--as! Thom--as!_" + + Then again, after another pause, + + "_Jo--seph! Jo--seph!_" + + +She listened a long time, but heard nothing except the singing of the +birds, and the sighing of the wind upon the tops of the trees in the +neighboring forests. + +She began to feel very anxious and very lonely. She descended from the +log, and walked along till she got out of the bushes. She came to a +place where there were rocks, with smooth surfaces of moss and grass +among them. She found a shady place among these rocks, and sat down +upon the moss. She laid her head down upon her arm and began to weep +bitterly. + +Presently she raised her head again, and endeavored to compose +herself, saying, + +"But I must not cry. I must be patient, and wait till they come. I am +very tired, but I must not go to sleep, for then I shall not hear +them when they come. I will lay my head down, but I will keep my eyes +open." + +She laid her head down accordingly upon a mossy mound, and +notwithstanding her resolution to keep her eyes open, in ten minutes +she was fast asleep. + +She slept very soundly for more than two hours. She was a little +frightened when she awoke, to find that she had been sleeping, and she +started up and climbed along upon a rock which was near by, until she +gained a projecting elevation, and here she began to listen again. + +She heard the distant tinkling of a bell. + +"Hark," said she. "I hear a bell. It is out _that_ way. I wonder +what it is. I will go there and see." + +So taking up her pail very carefully, she walked along in the +direction where she had heard the bell. She stopped frequently to +listen. Sometimes she could hear it, and sometimes she could not. +She, however, steadily persevered, though she encountered a great many +obstacles on the way. Sometimes there were wet places, which it was +very hard to get round. At other times, there were dense thickets, +which she had to scramble through, or rocks over which she had to +climb, either up or down. The sound, however, of the bell, came nearer +and nearer. + +"I verily believe," said she at length, "that it is Queen Bess." + +Queen Bess was one of Mary Erskine's cows. + +The idea that the sound which she was following might possibly be +Queen Bess's bell, gave her great courage. She was well acquainted +with Queen Bess, having often gone out to see Mary Erskine milk +her, with the other cows. She had even tried many times to milk her +herself, Mary Erskine having frequently allowed her to milk enough, in +a mug, to provide herself with a drink. + +"I hope it is Queen Bess," said Mary Bell. "She knows me, and she will +give me a drink of her milk, I am sure." + +Mary Bell proved to be right in her conjecture. It was Queen Bess. She +was feeding very quietly, Mary Erskine's other cows being near, some +cropping the grass and some browsing upon the bushes. Queen Bess +raised her head and looked at Mary Bell with a momentary feeling of +astonishment, wondering how she came there, and then put down her head +again and resumed her feeding. + +"Now," said Mary Bell, "I shall certainly get home again, for I shall +stay with you until Thomas comes up after the cows. He will find you +by your bell. And now I am going to put these oranges down upon the +grass, and milk some milk into this pail." + +So Mary Bell put the oranges in a safe place upon the grass, and then +went cautiously up to the side of the cow, and attempted to milk +her. But it is very difficult to milk a cow while she is grazing in +a pasture. She is not inclined to stand still, but advances all the +time, slowly, step by step, making it very difficult to do any thing +at milking. Mary Bell, however, succeeded very well. She was so +thirsty that she did not wait to get a great deal at a time, but as +soon as she had two or three spoonfuls in the pail, she stopped to +drink it. In this manner, by dint of a great deal of labor and pains, +she succeeded, in about a quarter of an hour, in getting as much as +she wanted. + +[Illustration: MARY BELL AND QUEEN BESS.] + +She remained in company with the cows all the afternoon. Sometimes she +would wander from them a little way to gather raspberries, and then +she would creep up cautiously to Queen Bess, and get another drink of +milk. When she had thus had as many raspberries, and as much milk, as +she wished, she amused herself for some time in gathering a bouquet +of wild flowers to give to Mary Erskine on her return. The time, being +thus filled up with useful occupation, passed pleasantly and rapidly +along, and at length, when the sun was nearly ready to go down, she +heard a distant voice shouting to the cows. It was Thomas, coming to +drive them home. + +Thomas was of course greatly astonished to find Mary Bell in the +woods, and his astonishment was not at all diminished at hearing her +story. He offered to carry her, in going home,--but she said that +she was not tired, and could walk as well as not. So they went down +together, the cows running along before them in the paths. When they +reached the house, Thomas went to turn the cows into the yard, while +Mary Bell went into the house to Mary Erskine, with her little pail in +one hand, and her bouquet of flowers in the other. + + + + +CHAPTER VII. + +HOUSE-KEEPING. + + +One of the greatest pleasures which Mary Bell enjoyed, in her visits +at Mary Erskine's at this period, was to assist in the house-keeping. +She was particularly pleased with being allowed to help in getting +breakfast or tea, and in setting the table. + +She rose accordingly very early on the morning after her arrival +there from the woods, as described in the last chapter, and put on +the working-dress which Mary Erskine had made for her, and which was +always kept at the farm. This was not the working-dress which was +described in a preceding chapter as the one which Mary Bell used to +play in, when out among the stumps. Her playing among the stumps was +two or three years before the period which we are now describing. +During those two or three years, Mary Bell had wholly outgrown her +first working-dress, and her mind had become improved and enlarged, +and her tastes matured more rapidly even than her body had grown. + +She now no longer took any pleasure in dabbling in the brook, or +planting potatoes in the sand,--or in heating sham ovens in stumps and +hollow trees. She had begun to like realities. To bake a real cake for +breakfast or tea, to set a real table with real cups and saucers, for +a real and useful purpose, or to assist Mary Erskine in the care of +the children, or in making the morning arrangements in the room, gave +her more pleasure than any species of child's play could possibly +do. When she went out now, she liked to be dressed neatly, and take +pleasant walks, to see the views or to gather flowers. In a word, +though she was still in fact a child, she began to have in some degree +the tastes and feelings of a woman. + +"What are you going to have for breakfast?" said Mary Bell to Mary +Erskine, while they were getting up. + +"What should you like?" asked Mary Erskine in reply. + +"Why I should like some roast potatoes, and a spider cake," said Mary +Bell. + +The spider cake received its name from being baked before the fire +in a flat, iron vessel, called a spider. The spider was so called +probably, because, like the animal of that name, it had several legs +and a great round body. The iron spider, however, unlike its living +namesake, had a long straight tail, which, extending out behind, +served for a handle. + +The spider cake being very tender and nice, and coming as it usually +did, hot upon the table, made a most excellent breakfast,--though this +was not the principal reason which led Mary Bell to ask for it. She +liked to _make_ the spider cake; for Mary Erskine, after mixing +and preparing the material, used to allow Mary Bell to roll it out to +its proper form, and put it into the spider. Then more than all the +rest, Mary Bell liked to _bake_ a spider cake. She used to +take great pleasure in carrying the cake in her two hands to the +fire-place, and laying it carefully in its place in the spider, and +then setting it up before the fire to bake, lifting the spider by +the end of the tail. She also took great satisfaction afterward in +watching it, as the surface which was presented toward the fire became +browned by the heat. When it was sufficiently baked upon one side it +had to be turned, and then set up before the fire again, to be baked +on the other side; and every part of the long operation was always +watched by Mary Bell with great interest and pleasure. + +Mary Erskine consented to Mary Bell's proposal in respect to +breakfast, and for an hour Mary Bell was diligently employed in making +the preparations. + +[Illustration: MARY BELL GETTING BREAKFAST.] + +She put the potatoes in the bed which Mary Erskine opened for them in +the ashes. She rolled out the spider cake, and put it into the spider; +she spread the cloth upon the table, and took down the plates, and +the cups and saucers from the cupboard, and set them in order on the +table. She went down into the little cellar to bring up the butter. +She skimmed a pan of milk to get the cream, she measured out the tea; +and at last, when all else was ready, she took a pitcher and went +down to the spring to bring up a pitcher of cool water. In all these +operations Bella accompanied her, always eager to help, and Mary Bell, +knowing that it gave Bella great pleasure to have something to do, +called upon her, continually, for her aid, and allowed her to do +every thing that it was safe to entrust to her. Thus they went on very +happily together. + +At length, when the breakfast was ready they all sat down around the +table to eat it, except the baby. He remained in the trundle-bed, +playing with his play-things. His play-things consisted of three or +four smooth pebble stones of different colors, each being of about the +size of an egg, which his mother had chosen for him out of the +brook, and also of a short piece of bright iron chain. The chain was +originally a part of a harness, but the harness had become worn out, +and Albert had brought in the chain and given it to the baby. The baby +liked these play-things very much indeed,--both the pebbles and the +chain. When he was well, and neither hungry nor sleepy, he was never +tired of playing with them,--trying to bite them, and jingling them +together. + +"Now," said Mary Erskine to the children, as they were sitting at the +table, at the close of the breakfast, and after Thomas had gone away, +"you may go out and play for an hour while I finish my morning work, +and put the baby to sleep, and then I want you to come in and have a +school." + +"Who shall be the teacher?" said Mary Bell. + +"You shall be _one_," said Mary Erskine. + +"Are you going to have two teachers?" asked Mary Bell. "If you do, +then we can't have any scholars;--for the baby is not old enough to go +to school." + +"I know it," said Mary Erskine, "but we can have three scholars +without him." + +"Who shall they be?" asked Mary Bell. + +"You and I, and Bella," answered Mary Erskine. "I will tell you what +my plan is. I expect that I shall conclude to stay here, and live in +this house alone for some years to come, and the children can not go +to school, for there is now nobody to take them, and it is too far for +them to go alone. I must teach them myself at home, or else they can +not learn. I am very sorry indeed now that I did not learn to read and +write when I was a child: for that would have saved me the time and +trouble of learning now. But I think I _can_ learn now. Don't you +think I can, Mary?" + +"Oh, yes, indeed," said Mary Bell, "I am sure you can. It is very easy +to read." + +"I am going to try," continued Mary Erskine, "and so I want you to +teach me. And while you are teaching me, Bella may as well begin at +the same time. So that you will have two scholars." + +"Three--you said three scholars," rejoined Mary Bell. + +"Yes," said Mary Erskine. "You shall be the third scholar. I am going +to teach you to draw." + +"Do you know how to draw?" asked Mary Bell, surprised. + +"No," said Mary Erskine, "but I can show _you_ how to learn." + +"Well," said Mary Bell, "I should like to learn to draw very much +indeed. Though I don't see how any body can teach a thing unless they +can do it themselves." + +"Sometimes they can," said Mary Erskine. "A man may teach a horse to +canter, without being able to canter himself." + +Mary Bell laughed at the idea of a man attempting to canter, and said +that she should be very glad to try to learn to draw. Mary Erskine +then said that after they had finished their breakfast the children +might go out an hour to walk and play, and that then when they should +come in, they would find every thing ready for the school. + +Mary Bell concluded to take a walk about the farm during the time +which they were allowed to spend in play, before the school was to +begin. So she and Bella put on their bonnets, and bidding Mary Erskine +good morning, they sallied forth. As they came out at the great stoop +door their attention was arrested by the sound of a cow-bell. The +sound seemed to come from the barn-yard. + +"Ah," said Mary Bell, "there is Queen Bess going to pasture this +morning. How glad I was to see her yesterday in the woods! Let us go +and see her now." + +So saying she led the way around the corner of the house, by a +pleasant path through the high grass that was growing in the yard, +toward the barns. Bella followed her. They passed through a gate, then +across a little lane, then through a gate on the other side of the +lane, which led into the barn-yards. The barns, like the house, were +built of logs, but they were very neatly made, and the yards around +them were at this season of the year dry and green. + +Mary and Bella walked on across the barn-yard until they got to the +back side of the barn, when they found Thomas turning the cows into a +little green lane which led to the pasture. It was not very far to the +pasture bars, and so Mary Bell proposed that they should go and help +Thomas drive the cows. They accordingly went on, but they had not gone +far before they came to a brook, which here flowed across the lane. +The cows walked directly through the brook, while Thomas got across it +by stepping over some stones at one side. Mary Bell thought that the +spaces were a little too wide for Bella to jump over, so she concluded +not to go any farther in that direction. + +Bella then proposed that they should go and see the new house. This +Mary Bell thought would be an excellent plan if Bella's mother would +give them leave. They accordingly went in to ask her. They found her +in the back stoop, employed in straining the milk which Thomas had +brought in. She was straining it into great pans. She said that she +should like to have the children go and see the new house very much +indeed, and she gave them the key, so that they might go into it. The +children took the key and went across the fields by a winding path +until they came out into the main road again, near the new house. The +house was in a very pleasant place indeed. There was a green yard in +front of it, and a place for a garden at one side. At the other side +was a wide yard open to the road, so that persons could ride up to the +door without the trouble of opening any gate. The children walked up +this open yard. + +They went to the door, intending to unlock it with their key, but they +were surprised to find that there was not any key hole. Mary Bell said +that she supposed the key hole was not made yet. They tried to open +the door, but they could not succeed. It was obviously fastened on the +inside. + +"Now how can we get in?" said Bella. + +"I don't see," replied Mary Bell, "and I can't think how they locked +the door without any key-hole." + +"Could not we climb in at one of the windows?" said Mary Bell,--"only +they are so high up!" + +The children looked around at the windows. They were all too high +from the ground for them to reach. There was, however, a heap of short +blocks and boards which the carpenters had left in the yard near the +house, and Mary Bell said that perhaps they could build up a "climbing +pile" with them, so as to get in at a window. She accordingly went to +this heap, and by means of considerable exertion and toil she rolled +two large blocks--the ends of sticks of timber which the carpenters +had sawed off in framing the house--up under the nearest window. +She placed these blocks, which were about two feet long, at a little +distance apart under the window, with one end of each block against +the house. She then, with Bella's help, got some short boards from +the pile, and placed them across these blocks from one to the other, +making a sort of a flooring. + +"There," said Mary Bell, looking at the work with great satisfaction, +"that is _one_ story." + +Then she brought two more blocks, and laid them upon the flooring over +the first two, placing the second pair of blocks, like the first, at +right angles to the house, and with the ends close against it to +keep them steady. On these blocks she laid a second flooring of short +boards, which made the second story. She then stepped up upon the +staging which she had thus built, to see if it was steady. It was very +steady indeed. + +"Let _me_ get up on it," said Bella. + +Bella accordingly climbed up, and she and Mary Bell danced upon it +together in great glee for some time to show how steady it was. + +Mary Bell then attempted to open the window. She found that she could +open it a little way, but not far enough to get in. So she said that +she must make one more "story." They then both went back to the pile, +and got two more blocks and another board to lay across upon the top +of them for a flooring, and when these were placed, Mary Bell found +that she could raise the window very high. She got a long stick to put +under it to hold it up, and then tried to climb in. + +She found, however, that the window sill over which she was to climb +was still rather too high; but, at length, after various consultations +and experiments, _Bella_ succeeded in getting up by means of the +help which Mary Bell, who was large and strong, gave her, by "boosting +her," as she called it, that is, pushing her up from below while she +climbed by means of her arms clasped over the window sill above. Bella +being thus in the house, took the key, which Mary Bell handed her for +the purpose, and went along to the entry to unlock the door, while +Mary Bell, stepping down from the scaffolding, went to the door on the +outside, ready to enter when it should be opened. The children had no +doubt that there was a key-hole in the lock on the inside, although +there was none made in the door on the outside. + +When, however, Bella reached the door on the inside, she called out +to Mary Bell, through the door, to say that she could not find any +key-hole. + +"It is in the lock," said Mary Bell. + +"But there is not any lock," said Bella. + +"Is not there any thing?" asked Mary Bell. + +"Yes," said Bella, "there is a bolt." + +"Oh, very well, then, open the bolt," replied Mary Bell. + +After a great deal of tugging and pushing at the bolt, Bella succeeded +in getting it back, but even then the door would not come open. It +was new, and it fitted very tight. Bella said that Mary Bell must push +from the outside, while she held up the latch. Mary Bell accordingly +pushed with all her force, and at length the door flew open, and to +their great joy they found themselves both fairly admitted to the +house. + +They rambled about for some time, looking at the different rooms, +and at the various conveniences for house-keeping which Albert had +planned, and which were all just ready for use when Albert had died. +There was a sink in the kitchen, with a little spout leading into it, +from which the water was running in a constant stream. It came from +an aqueduct of logs brought under ground. There was a tin dipper there +upon the top of the post which the water-spout came out of, and Mary +Bell and Bella had an excellent drink from it the first thing. The +kitchen floor was covered with shavings, and the children played in +them for some time, until they were tired. Then they went and got +another drink. + +When they at last got tired of the kitchen, they went to a window at +the back side of the sitting-room, which looked out toward the garden, +and commanded also a beautiful prospect beyond. They opened this +window in order to see the garden better. A fresh and delightful +breeze came in immediately, which the children enjoyed very much. +The breeze, however, in drawing through the house, shut all the doors +which the children had left open, with a loud noise, and then having +no longer any egress, it ceased to come in. The air seemed suddenly to +become calm; the children stood for some time at the window, looking +out at the garden, and at the pond, and the mountains beyond. + +At length they shut the window again, and went to the door at which +they had entered, and found it shut fast. They could not open it, +for there was now no one to push upon the outside. Mary Bell laughed. +Bella looked very much frightened. + +"What shall we do?" said she. "We can't get out." + +"Oh, don't be afraid," said Mary Bell, "we will get out some way or +other." + +She then tried again to open the door, exerting all her strength in +pulling upon the latch, but all in vain. They were finally obliged to +give up the attempt as utterly hopeless. + +Mary Bell then led the way to the window where Bella had got in, and +looked out upon the little scaffolding. It looked as if the window was +too high above the scaffolding for them to get down there safely. One +of them might, perhaps, have succeeded in descending, if the other had +been outside to help her down; but as it was, Mary Bell herself did +not dare to make the attempt. + +"I will tell you what we will do," said Mary Bell. "We will go to +another window where there are no blocks below, and throw all the +shavings out from the kitchen. That will make a soft bed for us to +jump upon." + +"Well," said Bella, "let us do that." + +So they went to the kitchen, and opening one of the windows, they +began to gather up the shavings in their arms from off the floor, and +to throw them out. They worked very industriously at this undertaking +for a long time, until the kitchen floor was entirely cleared. They +picked out carefully all the sticks, and blocks, and pieces of board +which were mixed with the shavings, before throwing them out, in order +that there might be nothing hard in the heap which they were to jump +upon. When the work was completed, and all the shavings were out, they +went to the window, and leaning over the sill, they looked down. + +"I wish we had some more shavings," said Mary Bell. + +"Yes," said Bella, "that is too far to jump down. We can't get out any +way at all." So saying, she began to cry. + +"Don't cry, Bella," said Mary Bell, in a soothing tone. "It is no +matter if we can't get out, for your mother knows that we came here, +and if we don't come home in an hour, she will come for us and let us +out." + +"But perhaps there is a ladder somewhere," added Mary Bell, after a +short pause. "Perhaps we can find a ladder that the carpenters have +left somewhere about. If there is, we can put it out the window, and +then climb down upon it. Let us go and look." + +"Well," said Bella, "so we will." + +The two children accordingly set off on an exploring tour to find a +ladder. Mary Bell went toward the front part of the house, and Bella +into the back kitchen. They looked not only in the rooms, but also in +the passage-ways and closets, and in every corner where a ladder could +possibly be hid. At length, just as Mary Bell was going up the stairs, +in order to look into the little attic chambers, she heard Bella +calling out from the back part of the house, in a tone of voice +expressive of great exultation and joy. + +"She has found the ladder," said Mary Bell, and leaving the stairs she +went to meet her. + +She found Bella running through the kitchen toward the entry where +Mary Bell was, calling out with great appearance of delight, + +"I've found the key-hole, Mary Bell! I've found the key-hole!" + +This was indeed true. The lock to which the key that Mary Erskine +had given the children belonged, was upon the _back_ door, the +principal door of the house being fastened by a bolt. Mary Bell went +to the back door, and easily opened it by means of the key. Glad to +discover this mode of escape from their thraldom, the children ran +out, and capered about upon the back stoop in great glee. Presently +they went in again and shut all the windows which they had opened, +and then came out, locking the door after them, and set out on their +return home. + +When they arrived, they found that Mary Erskine had got every thing +ready for the school. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII. + +THE SCHOOL. + + +Good teachers and proper conveniences for study, tend very much, it +is true, to facilitate the progress of pupils in all attempts for +the acquisition of knowledge. But where these advantages cannot be +enjoyed, it is astonishing how far a little ingenuity, and resolution, +and earnestness, on the part of the pupil, will atone for the +deficiency. No child need ever be deterred from undertaking any +study adapted to his years and previous attainments, for want of +the necessary implements or apparatus, or the requisite means of +instruction. The means of supplying the want of these things are +always at the command of those who are intelligent, resolute, and +determined. It is only the irresolute, the incompetent, and the +feeble-minded that are dependent for their progress on having a +teacher to show them and to urge them onward, every step of the way. + +When Mary Bell and Bella returned home they found that Mary Erskine +had made all the preparations necessary for the commencement of the +school. She had made a desk for the two children by means of the +ironing-board, which was a long and wide board, made very smooth on +both sides. This board Mary Erskine placed across two chairs, having +previously laid two blocks of wood upon the chairs in a line with the +back side of the board, in such a manner as to raise that side and +to cause the board to slope forward like a desk. She had placed two +stools in front of this desk for seats. + +Upon this desk, at one end of it, the end, namely, at which Bella was +to sit, Mary Erskine had placed a small thin board which she found in +the shop, and by the side of it a piece of chalk. This small board and +piece of chalk were to be used instead of a slate and pencil. + +At Mary Bell's end of the desk there was a piece of paper and a pen, +which Mary Erskine had taken out of her work-table. By the side of the +paper and pen was Bella's picture-book. This picture-book was a small +but very pretty picture-book, which Mary Bell had given to Bella for a +present on her birth-day, the year before. The picture-book looked, +as it lay upon the desk, as if it were perfectly new. Mary Erskine +had kept it very carefully in her work-table drawer, as it was the +only picture-book that Bella had. She was accustomed to take it out +sometimes in the evening, and show the pictures to Bella, one by one, +explaining them at the same time, so far as she could guess at the +story from the picture itself, for neither she herself, nor Bella, +could understand a word of the reading. On these occasions Mary +Erskine never allowed Bella to touch the book, but always turned over +the leaves herself, and that too in a very careful manner, so as to +preserve it in its original condition, smooth, fresh, and unsullied. + +Mary Bell and Bella looked at the desk which Mary Erskine had prepared +for them, and liked it very much indeed. + +"But where are _you_ going to study?" asked Mary Bell. + +"I shall study at my work-table, but not now. I can't study until the +evening. I have my work to do, all the day, and so I shall not begin +my studies until the evening when you children are all gone to bed. +And besides, there is only one pen." + +"Oh, but you will not want the pen," said Mary Bell. "You are going to +learn to read." + +"No," said Mary Erskine. "I am going to learn to write first." + +"Not _first_," said Mary Bell. "We always learn to _read_, +before we learn to write." + +"But I am going to learn to write first," said Mary Erskine. "I have +been thinking about it, and I think that will be best. I have got +the plan all formed. I shall want you to set me a copy, and then this +evening I shall write it." + +"Well," said Mary Bell, "I will. The first copy must be straight +marks." + +"No," said Mary Erskine, "the first thing is to learn to write my +name. I shall never have any occasion to write straight marks, but I +shall want to write my name a great many times." + +"Oh, but you can't _begin_ with writing your name," said Mary +Bell. + +"Yes," said Mary Erskine, "I am going to begin with _Mary_: only +_Mary_. I want you to write me two copies, one with the letters +all separate, and the other with the letters together. + +"Well," said Mary Bell, "I will." So she sat down to her desk, taking +up her pen, she dipped it into the inkstand. The inkstand had been +placed into the chair which Mary Bell's end of the ironing-board +rested upon. It could not stand safely on the board itself as that was +sloping. + +Mary Bell wrote the letters M--A--R--Y, in a large plain hand upon +the top of the paper, and then in a same line she wrote them again, +joining them together in a word. Mary Erskine stood by while she +wrote, examining very attentively her method of doing the work, and +especially her way of holding the pen. When the copy was finished, +Mary Erskine cut it off from the top of the paper and pinned it up +against the side of the room, where she could look at it and study the +names of the letters in the intervals of her work during the day. + +"There," said she in a tone of satisfaction when this was done. "I +have got my work before me. The next thing is to give Bella hers." + +It was decided that Bella should pursue a different method from her +mother. She was to learn the letters of the alphabet in regular order, +taking the first two, _a_ and _b_, for her first lesson. +Mary Bell made copies of those two letters for her, with the chalk, +upon the top of the board. She made these letters in the form of +printed and not written characters, because the object was to teach +Bella to read printed books. + +"Now," said Mary Erskine to Bella, "you must study _a_ and +_b_ for half an hour. I shall tell you when I think the half hour +is out. If you get tired of sitting at your desk, you may take your +board and your chalk out to the door and sit upon the step. You must +spend all the time in making the letters on the board, and you may say +_a_ and _b_ while you are making the letters, but besides +that you must not speak a word. For every time that you speak, except +to say _a_ and _b_, after I tell you to begin, you will have +to pick up a basket of chips." + +Picking up baskets of chips was the common punishment that Bella was +subjected to for her childish misdemeanors. There was a bin in the +stoop, where she used to put them, and a small basket hanging up by +the side of it. The chip-yard was behind the house, and there was +always an abundant supply of chips in it, from Albert's cutting. The +basket, it is true, was quite small, and to fill it once with chips, +was but a slight punishment; but slight punishments are always +sufficient for sustaining any just and equitable government, provided +they are certain to follow transgression, and are strictly and +faithfully enforced. Bella was a very obedient and submissive child, +though she had scarcely ever been subjected to any heavier punishment +than picking up chips. + +"Shall I begin now?" said Bella. + +"No," replied her mother, "wait, if you like, till Mary Bell has taken +her lesson." + +"I don't see how I am going to draw," said Mary Bell, "without any +pencil." + +"You will have to draw with the pen," said Mary Erskine. "I am very +sorry that I have not got any pencil for you." + +So saying, Mary Erskine took up the picture-book, and began turning +over the leaves, to find, as she said, the picture of a house. She +should think, she said, that the picture of a house would be a good +thing to begin with. + +She found a view of a house in the third picture in the book. There +was a great deal in the picture besides the house, but Mary Erskine +said that the house alone should be the lesson. There was a pond near +it, with a shore, and ducks and geese swimming in the water. Then +there was a fence and a gate, and a boy coming through the gate, and +some trees. There was one large tree with a swing hanging from one of +the branches. + +"Now, Mary," said Mary Erskine, speaking to Mary Bell, "you may take +the house alone. First you must look at it carefully, and examine all +the little lines and marks, and see exactly how they are made. There +is the chimney, for example. See first what the shape of the outline +of it is, and look at all _those_ little lines, and _those_, +and _those_," continued Mary Erskine, pointing to the different +parts of the chimney. "You must examine in the same way all the other +lines, in all the other parts of the picture, and see exactly how fine +they are, and how near together they are, so that you can imitate them +exactly. Then you must make some little dots upon your paper to mark +the length and breadth of the house, so as to get it of the right +shape; and then draw the lines and finish it all exactly as it is in +the book." + +Bella looked over very attentively, while her mother was explaining +these things to Mary Bell, and then said that _she_ would rather +draw a house than make letters. + +"No," said her mother, "you must make letters." + +"But it is harder to make letters than it is to make a house," said +Bella. + +"Yes," said her mother, "I think it is." + +"And I think," said Bella, "that the littlest scholar ought to have +the easiest things to do." + +Mary Erskine laughed, and said that in schools, those things were not +done that seemed best to the scholars, but those that seemed best to +the teachers. + +"Then," said Mary Bell, "why must not you write marks." + +Mary Erskine laughed still more at this, and said she acknowledged +that the children had got her penned up in a corner. + +"Now," said Mary Erskine, "are you ready to begin; because when you +once begin, you must not speak a word till the half hour is out." + +"Yes," said the children, "we are ready." + +"Then _begin_," said Mary Erskine. + +The children began with great gravity and silence, each at her +separate task, while Mary Erskine went on with her own regular +employment. The silence continued unbroken for about five minutes, +when Bella laid down her chalk in a despairing manner, saying, + +"O dear me! I can't make a _a_." + +"There's one basket of chips," said Mary Erskine. + +"Why I really can't," said Bella, "I have tried three times." + +"Two baskets of chips," said her mother. "Make two marks on the corner +of your board," she continued, "and every time you speak put down +another, so that we can remember how many baskets of chips you have to +pick up." + +Bella looked rather disconsolate at receiving this direction. She +knew, however, that she must obey. She was also well aware that she +would certainly have to pick up as many baskets of chips as should +be indicated by the line of chalk marks. She, therefore, resumed her +work, inwardly resolving that she would not speak another word. All +this time, Mary Bell went on with her drawing, without apparently +paying any attention to the conversation between Bella and her mother. + +[Illustration: THE SCHOOL.] + +Bella went on, too, herself after this, very attentively, making the +letters which had been assigned her for her lesson, and calling the +names of them as she made them, but not speaking any words. + +At length Mary Erskine told the children that the half hour had +expired, and that they were at liberty. Bella jumped up and ran away +to play. Mary Bell wished to remain and finish her house. Mary Erskine +went to look at it. She compared it very attentively with the original +in the picture-book, and observed several places in which Mary Bell +had deviated from her pattern. She did not, however, point out any of +these faults to Mary Bell, but simply said that she had done her work +very well indeed. She had made a very pretty house. Mary Bell said +that it was not quite finished, and she wished to remain at her desk a +little longer to complete it. Mary Erskine gave her leave to do so. + +Bella, who had gone away at first, dancing to the door, pleased to be +released from her confinement, came back to see Mary Bell's picture, +while her mother was examining it. She seemed very much pleased with +it indeed. Then she asked her mother to look at her letters upon the +board. Mary Erskine and Mary Bell both looked at them, one by one, +very attentively, and compared them with the letters which Mary Bell +had made for patterns, and also with specimens of the letters in the +books. Bella took great interest in looking for the letters in the +book, much pleased to find that she knew them wherever she saw them. +Her mother, too, learned _a_ and _b_ very effectually by +this examination of Bella's work. Mary Erskine selected the two best +letters which Bella had made, one of each kind, and rubbed out all the +rest with a cloth. She then put up the board in a conspicuous place +upon a shelf, where the two good letters could be seen by all in the +room. Bella was much pleased at this, and she came in from her play +several times in the course of the day, to look at her letters and to +call them by name. + +When Bella's board had thus been put up in its conspicuous position, +Mary Bell sat down to finish her drawing, while Bella went out to +pick up her two baskets of chips. Mary Bell worked upon her house for +nearly the whole of another half hour. When it was finished she cut +the part of the paper which it was drawn upon off from the rest, and +ruled around it a neat margin of double black lines. She obtained a +narrow strip of wood, from the shop which served her as a ruler. She +said that she meant to have all her drawing lessons of the same size, +and to put the same margin around them. She marked her house No. 1, +writing the numbering in a small but plain hand on one corner. She +wrote the initials of her, name, M.B., in the same small hand, on the +opposite corner. + +Mary Erskine did not attempt _her_ lesson until the evening. She +finished her work about the house a little after eight o'clock, and +then she undressed the children and put them to bed. By this time it +was nearly nine o'clock. The day had been warm and pleasant, but the +nights at this season were cool, and Mary Erskine put two or three dry +sticks upon the fire, before she commenced her work, partly for the +warmth, and partly for the cheerfulness of the blaze. + +She lighted her lamp, and sat down at her work-table, with Mary Bell's +copy, and her pen, ink, and paper, before her. The copy had been +pinned up in sight all the day, and she had very often examined it, +when passing it, in going to and fro at her work. She had thus learned +the names of all the letters in the word Mary, and had made herself +considerably familiar with the forms of them; so that she not only +knew exactly what she had to do in writing the letters, but she felt a +strong interest in doing it. She, however, made extremely awkward +work in her first attempts at writing the letters. She, nevertheless, +steadily persevered. She wrote the words, first in separate letters, +and then afterwards in a joined hand, again and again, going down the +paper. She found that she could write a little more easily, if not +better, as she proceeded,--but still the work was very hard. At ten +o'clock her paper was covered with what she thought were miserable +scrawls, and her wrist and her fingers ached excessively. She put her +work away, and prepared to go to bed. + +"Perhaps I shall have to give it up after all," said she. "But I will +not give up till I am beaten. I will write an hour every day for six +months, and then if I can not write my name so that people can read +it, I will stop." + +The next day about an hour after breakfast Mary Erskine had another +school for the children. Bella took the two next letters _c_ and +_d_ for her lesson, while Mary Bell took the swing hanging from +the branch of the tree in the picture-book, for the subject of her +second drawing. Before beginning her work, she studied all the touches +by which the drawing was made in the book, with great attention and +care, in order that she might imitate them as precisely as possible. +She succeeded very well indeed in this second attempt. The swing made +even a prettier picture than the house. When it was finished she cut +the paper out, of the same size with the other, drew a border around +it, and marked it No. 2. She went on in this manner every day as long +as she remained at Mary Erskine's, drawing a new picture every day. +At last, when she went home, Mary Erskine put all her drawings up +together, and Mary Bell carried them home to show them to her mother. +This was the beginning of Mary Bell's drawing. + +As for Mary Erskine, her second lesson was the word _Erskine_, +which she found a great deal harder to write than Mary. There was one +thing, however, that pleased her in it, which was that there was one +letter which she knew already, having learned it in Mary: that was the +_r_. All the rest of the letters, however, were new, and she had +to practice writing the word two evenings before she could write it +well, without looking at the copy. She then thought that probably by +that time she had forgotten _Mary_; but on trying to write that +word, she was very much pleased to find that she could write it +much more easily than she could before. This encouraged her, and she +accordingly took Forester for her third lesson without any fear of +forgetting the Mary and the Erskine. + +The Forester lesson proved to be a very easy one. There were only +three new letters in it, and those three were very easy to write. In +fine, at the end of the four days, when Mary Bell was to go home, Mary +Erskine could read, write, and spell her name very respectably well. + +Mrs. Bell came herself for Mary when the time of her visit expired. +She was very much pleased to learn how good a girl and how useful her +daughter had been. She was particularly pleased with her drawings. She +said that she had been very desirous to have Mary learn to draw, but +that she did not know it was possible to make so good a beginning +without a teacher. + +"Why I _had_ a teacher," said Mary Bell. "I think that Mary +Erskine is a teacher; and a very good one besides." + +"I think so too," said Mrs. Bell. + +The children went out to get some wild flowers for Mary Bell to carry +home, and Mrs. Bell then asked Mary if she had begun to consider what +it was best for her to do. + +"Yes," said Mary Erskine. "I think it will be best for me to sell +the farm, and the new house, and all the stock, and live here in this +house with my children." + +Mrs. Bell did not answer, but seemed to be thinking whether this would +be the best plan or not. + +"The children cannot go to school from here," said Mrs. Bell. + +"No," said Mary Erskine, "but I can teach them myself, I think, till +they are old enough to walk to the school-house. I find that I can +learn the letters faster than Bella can, and that without interfering +with my work; and Mary Bell will come out here now and then and tell +us what we don't know." + +"Yes," said Mrs. Bell, "I shall be glad to have her come as often +as you wish. But it seems to me that you had better move into the +village. Half the money that the farm and the stock will sell for, +will buy you a very pleasant house in the village, and the interest +on the other half, together with what you can earn, will support you +comfortably." + +"Yes," said Mary Erskine, "but then I should be growing poorer, rather +than richer, all the time; and when my children grow large, and I want +the money for them, I shall find that I have spent it all. Now if I +stay here in this house, I shall have no rent to pay, nor shall I lose +the interest of a part of my money, as I should if I were to buy a +house in the village with it to live in myself. I can earn enough here +too by knitting, and by spinning and weaving, for all that we shall +want while the children are young. I can keep a little land with this +house, and let Thomas, or some other such boy live with me, and raise +such things as we want to eat; and so I think I can get along very +well, and put out all the money which I get from the farm and the +stock, at interest. In ten or fifteen years it will be two thousand +dollars. Then I shall be rich, and can move into the village without +any danger. + +"Not two thousand dollars!" said Mrs. Bell. + +"Yes," said Mary Erskine, "if I have calculated it right." + +"Why, how much do you think the farm and stock will sell for?" asked +Mrs. Bell. + +"About eight hundred dollars," said Mary Erskine. "That put out at +interest will double in about twelve years." + +"Very well," rejoined Mrs. Bell, "but that makes only sixteen hundred +dollars." + +"But then I think that I can lay up half a dollar a week of my own +earnings, especially when Bella gets a little bigger so as to help me +about the house," said Mary Erskine. + +"Well;" said Mrs. Bell. + +"That," continued Mary Erskine, "will be twenty-five dollars a year. +Which will be at least three hundred dollars in twelve years." + +"Very well," said Mrs. Bell, "that makes nineteen hundred." + +"Then," continued Mary Erskine, "I thought that at the end of the +twelve years I should be able to sell this house and the land around +it for a hundred dollars, especially if I take good care of the +buildings in the mean while." + +"And that makes your two thousand dollars," said Mrs. Bell. + +"Yes," replied Mary Erskine. + +"But suppose you are sick." + +"Oh, if I am sick, or if I die," rejoined Mary Erskine, "of course +that breaks up all my plans. I know I can't plan against calamities." + +"Well," said Mrs. Bell, rising from her seat with a smile of +satisfaction upon her countenance, "I can't advise you. But if ever I +get into any serious trouble, I shall come to you to advise me." + +So bidding Mary Erskine good-bye, Mrs. Bell called her daughter, and +they went together toward their home. + + + + +CHAPTER IX. + +GOOD MANAGEMENT. + + +Whenever any person dies, leaving property to be divided among +his heirs, and not leaving any valid will to determine the mode of +division, the property as has already been said, must be divided on +certain principles, established by the law of the land, and under +the direction of the Judge of Probate, who has jurisdiction over +the county in which the property is situated. The Judge of Probate +appoints a person to take charge of the property and divide it among +the heirs. This person is called the administrator, or, if a +woman, the administratrix. The Judge gives the administrator or the +administratrix a paper, which authorises him or her to take charge of +the property, which paper is called, "Letters of Administration." +The letters of administration are usually granted to the wife of the +deceased, or to his oldest son, or, if there is no wife or son, to the +nearest heir who is of proper age and discretion to manage the trust. +The person who receives administration is obliged to take a solemn +oath before the Judge of Probate, that he will report to the Judge a +full account of all the property that belonged to the deceased which +shall come to his knowledge. The Judge also appoints three persons to +go and examine the property, and make an inventory of it, and appraise +every article, so as to know as nearly as possible, how much and what +property there is. These persons are called appraisers. The inventory +which they make out is lodged in the office of the Judge of Probate, +where any person who has an interest in the estate can see it at any +time. The administrator usually keeps a copy of the inventory besides. + +If among the property left by a person deceased, which is to go in +part to children, there are any houses and lands,--a kind of property +which is called in law _real estate_, to distinguish it from +moveable property, which is called _personal estate_,--such +real estate cannot be sold, in ordinary cases, by the administrator, +without leave from the Judge of Probate. This leave the Judge of +Probate will give in cases where it is clearly best for the children +that the property should be so sold and the _avails of it_ kept +for them, rather than the property itself. All these things Mrs. Bell +explained to Mary Erskine, having learned about them herself some +years before when her own husband died. + +Accordingly, a few weeks after Albert died, Mary Erskine went one +day in a wagon, taking the baby with her, and Thomas to drive, to the +county town, where the Probate court was held. + +[Illustration: GOING TO COURT.] + +At the Probate court, Mary Erskine made all the arrangements necessary +in respect to the estate. She had to go twice, in fact, before all +these arrangements were completed. She expected to have a great deal +of trouble and embarrassment in doing this business, but she did not +find that there was any trouble at all. The Judge of Probate told her +exactly what to do. She was required to sign her name once or twice +to papers. This she did with great trepidation, and after writing her +name, on the first occasion which occurred requiring her signature, +she apologized for not being able to write any better. The Judge of +Probate said that very few of the papers that he received were signed +so well. + +Mary Erskine was appointed administratrix, and the Judge gave her +a paper which he said was her "Letters of Administration." What the +Judge gave to her seemed to be only one paper, but she thought it +probable, as the Judge said "Letters" that there was another inside. +When she got home, however, and opened the paper she found that there +was only one. She could not read it herself, her studies having yet +extended no farther than to the writing of her name. The first time, +however, that Mary Bell came to see her, after she received this +document, she asked Mary Bell to read it to her. Mary Bell did so, +but after she had got through, Mary Erskine said that she could not +understand one word of it from beginning to end. Mary Bell said that +that was not strange, for she believed that lawyers' papers were only +meant for lawyers to understand. + +The appraisers came about this time to make an inventory of the +property. They went all over the house and barns, and took a complete +account of every thing that they found. They made a list of all the +oxen, sheep, cows, horses, and other animals, putting down opposite +to each one, their estimate of its value. They did the same with the +vehicles, and farming implements, and utensils, and also with all +the household furniture, and the provisions and stores. When they had +completed the appraisement they added up the amount, and found that +the total was a little over four hundred dollars, Mary Erskine was +very much surprised to find that there was so much. + +The appraisers then told Mary Erskine that half of that property was +hers, and the other half belonged to the children; and that as much of +their half as was necessary for their support could be used for that +purpose, and the rest must be paid over to them when they became of +age. They said also that she or some one else must be appointed their +guardian, to take care of their part of the property; and that the +guardian could either keep the property as it was, or sell it and +keep the money as she thought would be most for the interest of the +children; and that she had the same power in respect to her own share. + +Mary Erskine said that she thought it would be best for her to sell +the stock and farming tools, because she could not take care of +them nor use them, and she might put the money out at interest. The +appraisers said they thought so too. + +In the end, Mary Erskine was appointed guardian. The idea appeared +strange to her at first of being _appointed_ guardian to her own +children, as it seemed to her that a mother naturally and necessarily +held that relation to her offspring. But the meaning of the law, in +making a mother the guardian of her children by appointment in such +a case as this, is simply to authorize her to take care of +_property_ left to them, or descending to them. It is obvious +that cases must frequently occur in which a mother, though the natural +guardian of her children so far as the personal care of them is +concerned, would not be properly qualified to take charge of any +considerable amount of property coming to them. When the mother is +qualified to take this charge, she can be duly authorized to do +it; and this is the appointment to the guardianship--meaning the +guardianship of the property to which the appointment refers. + +Mary Erskine was accordingly appointed guardian of the children, and +she obtained leave to sell the farm. She decided that it would be best +to sell it as she thought, after making diligent enquiry, that she +could not depend on receiving any considerable annual rent for it, if +she were to attempt to let it. She accordingly sold the farm, with the +new house, and all the stock,--excepting that she reserved from the +farm ten acres of land around her own house, and one cow, one horse, +two pigs, and all the poultry. She also reserved all the household +furniture. These things she took as a part of her portion. The +purchase money for all the rest amounted to nine hundred and fifty +dollars. This sum was considerably more than Mary Erskine had expected +to receive. + +The question now was what should be done with this money. There are +various modes which are adopted for investing such sums so as to get +an annual income from them. The money may be lent to some person who +will take it and pay interest for it. A house may be bought and let to +some one who wishes to hire it; or shares in a rail-road, or a bank, +or a bridge, may be taken. Such kinds of property as those are managed +by directors, who take care of all the profits that are made, and +twice a year divide the money among the persons that own the shares. + +Mary Erskine had a great deal of time for enquiry and reflection in +respect to the proper mode of investing her money, for the man who +purchased the farm and the stock was not to pay the money immediately. +The price agreed upon for the farm, including of course the new house, +was five hundred dollars. The stock, farming utensils, &c, which he +took with it, came to three hundred and sixty dollars. The purchaser +was to pay, of this money, four hundred dollars in three months, +and the balance in six months. Mary Erskine, therefore, had to make +provision for investing the four hundred dollars first. + +She determined, after a great deal of consideration and inquiry, to +lay out this money in buying four shares in the Franconia bridge. +These shares were originally one hundred dollars each, but the bridge +had become so profitable on account of the number of persons that +passed it, and the amount of money which was consequently collected +for tolls, that the shares would sell for a hundred and ten dollars +each. This ten dollars advance over the original price of the shares, +is called _premium_. Upon the four shares which Mary Erskine was +going to buy, the premium would be of course forty dollars. This money +Mary Erskine concluded to borrow. Mr. Keep said that he would very +gladly lend it to her. Her plan was to pay the borrowed money back out +of the dividends which she would receive from her bridge shares. The +dividend was usually five per centum, or, as they commonly called +it, _five per cent._, that is, five dollars on every share of a +hundred dollars every six months.[A] The dividend on the four shares +would, of course, be twenty dollars, so that it would take two +dividends to pay off the forty dollar debt to Mr. Keep, besides a +little interest. When this was done, Mary Erskine would have property +in the bridge worth four hundred and forty dollars, without having +used any more than four hundred dollars of her farm money, and she +would continue to have forty dollars a year from it, as long as she +kept it in her possession. + +[Footnote A: _Per_ is a Latin word meaning _for_, and +_centum_ another meaning _a hundred_.] + +When the rest of the money for the farm was paid, Mary Erskine +resolved on purchasing a certain small, but very pleasant house with +it. This house was in the village, and she found on inquiry, that it +could be let to a family for fifty dollars a year. It is true that +a part of this fifty dollars would have to be expended every year in +making repairs upon the house, so as to keep it in good order; such as +painting it from time to time, and renewing the roof when the shingles +began to decay, and other similar things. But, then, Mary Erskine +found, on making a careful examination, that after expending as much +of the money which she should receive for the rent of her house, as +should be necessary for the repairs, she should still have rather more +than she would receive from the money to be invested, if it was put +out at interest by lending it to some person who wanted to borrow it. +So she decided to buy the house in preference to adopting any other +plan. + +It happened that the house which Mary Erskine thus determined to buy, +was the very one that Mr. Gordon lived in. The owner of the house +wished to sell it, and offered it first to Mr. Gordon; but he said +that he was not able to buy it. He had been doing very well in his +business, but his expenses were so great, he said, that he had not any +ready money at command. He was very sorry, he added, that the owner +wished to sell the house, for whoever should buy it, would want to +come and live in it, he supposed, and he should be obliged to move +away. The owner said that he was sorry, but that he could not help it. + +A few days after this, Mr. Gordon came home one evening, and told +Anne Sophia, with a countenance expressive of great surprise and some +little vexation, that her old friend, Mrs. Forester, had bought their +house, and was going to move into it. Anne Sophia was amazed at this +intelligence, and both she and her husband were thrown into a state of +great perplexity and trouble. The next morning Anne Sophia went out +to see Mary Erskine about it. Mary Erskine received her in a very kind +and cordial manner. + +"I am very glad to see you," said Mary Erskine. "I was coming to your +house myself in a day or two, about some business, if you had not come +here." + +"Yes," said Anne Sophia. "I understand that you have been buying our +house away from over our heads, and are going to turn us out of house +and home." + +"Oh, no," said Mary Erskine, smiling, "not at all. In the first place, +I have not really bought the house yet, but am only talking about it; +and in the second place, if I buy it, I shall not want it myself, but +shall wish to have you live in it just as you have done." + +"You will not want it yourself!" exclaimed Anne Sophia, astonished. + +"No," said Mary Erskine, "I am only going to buy it as an investment." + +There were so many things to be astonished at in this statement, that +Anne Sophia hardly knew where to begin with her wonder. First, she was +surprised to learn that Mary Erskine had so much money. When she heard +that she had bought the house, she supposed of course that she had +bought it on credit, for the sake of having a house in the village to +live in. Then she was amazed at the idea of any person continuing to +live in a log house in the woods, when she had a pretty house of +her own in the middle of the village. She could not for some time be +satisfied that Mary Erskine was in earnest in what she said. But when +she found that it was really so, she went away greatly relieved. Mary +Erskine told her that she had postponed giving her final answer about +buying the house, in order first to see Mr. Gordon, to know whether +he had any objection to the change of ownership. She knew, of course, +that Mr. Gordon would have no right to object, but she rightly +supposed that he would be gratified at having her ask him the +question. + +Mary Erskine went on after this for two or three years very +prosperously in all her affairs. Thomas continued to live with her, +in her log-house, and to cultivate the land which she had retained. In +the fall and winter, when there was nothing to be done in the fields +or garden, he was accustomed to work in the shop, making improvements +for the house, such as finishing off the stoop into another room, to +be used for a kitchen, making new windows to the house, and a regular +front door, and in preparing fences and gates to be put up around +the house. He made an aqueduct, too, to conduct the water from a new +spring which he discovered at a place higher than the house, and so +brought a constant stream of water into the kitchen which he had +made in the stoop. The stumps, too, in the fields around the house, +gradually decayed, so that Thomas could root them out and smooth over +the ground where they had stood. Mary Erskine's ten acres thus became +very smooth and beautiful. It was divided by fences into very pleasant +fields, with green lanes shaded by trees, leading from one place to +another. The brook flowed through this land along a very beautiful +valley, and there were groves and thickets here and there, both along +the margin of the brook, and in the corners of the fields, which +gave to the grounds a very sheltered, as well as a very picturesque +expression. Mary Erskine also caused trees and shrubbery to be planted +near the house, and trained honey-suckles and wild roses upon a +trellis over the front door. All these improvements were made in a +very plain and simple manner, and at very little expense, and yet +there was so much taste exercised in the arrangement of them all, that +the effect was very agreeable in the end. The house and all about it +formed, in time, an enchanting picture of rural beauty.[A] + +[Footnote A: See Frontispiece.] + +It was, however, only a few occasional hours of recreation that Mary +Erskine devoted to ornamenting her dwelling. The main portion of her +time and attention was devoted to such industrial pursuits as were +most available in bringing in the means of support for herself and her +children, so as to leave untouched the income from her house and her +bridge shares. This income, as fast as it was paid in, she deposited +with Mr. Keep, to be lent out on interest, until a sufficient sum was +thus accumulated to make a new investment of a permanent character. +When the sum at length amounted to two hundred and twenty dollars, she +bought two more bridge shares with it, and from that time forward +she received dividends on six shares instead of four; that is, she +received thirty dollars every six months, instead of twenty, as +before. + +One reason why Mary Erskine invested her money in a house and in a +bridge, instead of lending it out at interest, was that by so doing, +her property was before her in a visible form, and she could take a +constant pleasure in seeing it. Whenever she went to the village +she enjoyed seeing her house, which she kept in a complete state of +repair, and which she had ornamented with shrubbery and trees, so that +it was a very agreeable object to look upon of itself, independently +of the pleasure of ownership. In the same manner she liked to see the +bridge, and think when teams and people were passing over it, that a +part of all the toll which they paid, would, in the end, come to her. +She thus took the same kind of pleasure in having purchased a house, +and shares in a bridge, that any lady in a city would take in an +expensive new carpet, or a rosewood piano, which would cost about the +same sum; and then she had all the profit, in the shape of the annual +income, besides. + +There was one great advantage too which Mary Erskine derived from +owning this property, which, though she did not think of it at all +when she commenced her prudent and economical course, at the time of +her marriage, proved in the end to be of inestimable value to her. +This advantage was the high degree of respectability which it gave her +in the public estimation. The people of the village gradually found +out how she managed, and how fast her property was increasing, and +they entertained for her a great deal of that kind of respect which +worldly prosperity always commands. The store-keepers were anxious to +have her custom. Those who had money to lend were always very ready to +let her have it, if at any time she wished to make up a sum for a new +investment: and all the ladies of the village were willing that their +daughters should go out to her little farm to visit Bella, and to +have Bella visit them in return. Thus Mary Erskine found that she was +becoming quite an important personage. + +Her plan of teaching herself and her children succeeded perfectly. By +the time that she had thoroughly learned to write her own name, she +knew half of the letters of the alphabet, for her name contained +nearly that number. She next learned to write her children's names, +Bella Forester and Albert Forester. After that, she learned to write +the names of all the months, and to read them when she had written +them. She chose the names of the months, next after the names of +her own family, so that she might be able to date her letters if she +should ever have occasion to write any. + +Mary Bell set copies for her, when she came out to see her, and Mary +Erskine went on so much faster than Bella, that she could teach her +very well. She required Bella to spend an hour at her studies every +day. Thomas made a little desk for her, and her mother bought her a +slate and a pencil, and in process of time an arithmetic, and other +books. As soon as Mary Erskine could read fluently, Mary Bell used to +bring out books to her, containing entertaining stories. At first Mary +Bell would read these stories to her once, while she was at her work, +and then Mary Erskine, having heard Mary Bell read them, could read +them herself in the evening without much difficulty. At length she +made such progress that she could read the stories herself alone, the +first time, with very little trouble. + +Thus things went on in a very pleasant and prosperous manner, and this +was the condition of Mary Erskine and of her affairs, at the time when +Malleville and Phonny went to pay her their visit, as described in the +first chapter of this volume. + + + + +CHAPTER X. + +THE VISIT TO MARY ERSKINE'S. + + +Malleville and Phonny arrived at Mary Erskine's about an hour after +Beechnut left them. They met with no special adventures by the way, +except that when they reached the great pine-tree, Phonny proposed to +climb up, for the purpose of examining a small bunch which he saw upon +one of the branches, which he thought was a bird's nest. It was the +same pine-tree that marked the place at which a road branched off into +the woods, where Mary Bell had lost her way, several years before. +Malleville was very unwilling to have Phonny climb up upon such a high +tree, but Phonny himself was very desirous to make the attempt. There +was a log fence at the foot of the tree, and the distance was not very +great from the uppermost log of the fence, to the lowermost branch +of the tree. So Phonny thought that he could get up without any +difficulty. + +Malleville was afraid to have him try, and she said that if he did, he +would be acting just as foolish as the boy that Beechnut had told them +about, who nipped his own nose; and that she should not stop to see +him do any such foolishness. So she walked along as fast as she could +go. + +Phonny unfortunately was rendered only the more determined to climb +the tree by Malleville's opposition. He accordingly mounted up to the +top of the fence, and thence reaching the lower branches of the tree +he succeeded at length, by dint of much scrambling and struggling, in +lifting himself up among them. He climbed out to the limb where he had +seen the appearances of a bird's nest, but found to his disappointment +that there was no bird's nest there. The bunch was only a little tuft +of twigs growing out together. + +Phonny then began to shout out for Malleville to wait for him. + +"Mal--le--ville! Mal--le--ville!" said he. "Wait a minute for me. I am +coming down." + +He did not like to be left there all alone, in the gloomy and solitary +forest. So he made all the haste possible in descending. There are a +great many accidents which may befall a boy in coming down a tree. The +one which Phonny was fated to incur in this instance, was to catch his +trowsers near the knee, in a small sharp twig which projected from a +branch, and tear them. + +When he reached the ground he looked at the rent in dismay. He was +generally nice and particular about his clothes, and he was very +unwilling to go to Mary Erskine's, and let her and Bella see him in +such a plight. He was equally unwilling to go home again, and to lose +his visit. + +"Provoking!" said he. "That comes from Malleville's hurrying me so. +It is all her fault." Then starting off suddenly, he began to run, +shouting out, "Malleville! Malleville!" + +At length, when he got pretty near her, he called out for her to stop +and see what she had made him do. + +"Did I make you do that?" said Malleville, looking at the rent, while +Phonny stood with his foot extended, and pointing at it with his +finger. + +"Yes," said Phonny,--"because you hurried me." + +"Well, I'm sorry;" said Malleville, looking very much concerned. + +Phonny was put quite to a nonplus by this unexpected answer. He had +expected to hear Malleville deny that it was her fault that he had +torn his clothes, and was prepared to insist strenuously that it was; +but this unlooked-for gentleness seemed to leave him not a word to +say. So he walked along by the side of Malleville in silence. + +"Was it a pretty bird's-nest?" said Malleville in a conciliatory tone, +after a moment's pause. + +"No," said Phonny. "It was not any bird's nest at all." + +When the children reached the farm as they called it, Mary Erskine +seated Phonny on the bed, and then drawing up her chair near to him, +she took his foot in her lap and mended the rent so neatly that there +was afterwards no sign of it to be seen. + +Little Albert was at this time about three years old, and Bella was +seven. Phonny, while Mary Erskine was mending his clothes, asked where +the children were. Mary Erskine said that they had gone out into +the fields with Thomas, to make hay. So Phonny and Malleville, after +getting proper directions in respect to the way that they were to go, +set off in pursuit of them. + +They went out at a back-door which led to a beautiful walk under +a long trellis, which was covered with honey-suckles and roses. +Malleville stopped to get a rose, and Phonny to admire two +humming-birds that were playing about the honey-suckles. He wished +very much that he could catch one of them, but he could not even get +near them. From the end of the trellis's walk the children entered a +garden, and at the back side of the garden they went through a narrow +place between two posts into a field. They walked along the side of +this field, by a very pleasant path with high green grass and flowers +on one side, and a wall with a great many raspberry bushes growing +by it, and now and then little thickets of trees, on the other. The +bushes and trees made the walk that they were going in very cool and +shady. There were plenty of raspberries upon the bushes, but they were +not yet ripe. Phonny said that when the raspberries were ripe he meant +to come out to Mary Erskine's again and get some. + +Presently the children turned a sort of a corner which was formed by a +group of trees, and then they came in sight of the hay-making party. + +"Oh, they have got the horse and cart," said Phonny. So saying he set +off as fast he could run, toward the hay-makers, Malleville following +him. + +The horse and cart were standing in the middle of the field among the +numerous winrows of hay. The two children of Mrs. Forester, Bella +and Albert, were in the cart, treading down the hay as fast as Thomas +pitched it up. As soon as Phonny and Malleville reached the place, +Malleville stood still with her hands behind her, looking at the scene +with great interest and pleasure. Phonny wanted to know if Thomas had +not got another pitch-fork, so that he might help him pitch up the +hay. + +Thomas said, no. He, however, told Phonny that he might get into the +cart if he pleased, and drive the horse along when it was time to +go to a new place. Phonny was extremely pleased with this plan. He +climbed into the cart, Bella helping him up by a prodigious lift which +she gave him, seizing him by the shoulder as he came up. Malleville +was afraid to get into the cart at all, but preferred walking along +the field and playing among the winrows. + +Phonny drove along from place to place as Thomas directed him, until +at length the cart was so full that it was no longer safe for the +children to remain upon the top. They then slid down the hay to the +ground, Thomas receiving them so as to prevent any violent fall. +Thomas then forked up as much more hay as he could make stay upon the +top of his load, and when this was done, he set out to go to the barn. +The children accompanied him, walking behind the cart. + +When the party reached the barn, the children went inside to a place +which Phonny called the bay. Thomas drove his cart up near the side of +the barn without, and began to pitch the hay in through a great square +window, quite high up. The window opened into the bay, so that the +hay, when Thomas pitched it in, fell down into the place where the +children were standing. They jumped upon it, when it came down, with +great glee. As every new forkful which Thomas pitched in came without +any warning except the momentary darkening of the window, it sometimes +fell upon the children's heads and half buried them, each new accident +of this kind awakening, as it occurred, loud and long continued bursts +of laughter. + +After getting in two or three loads of hay in this manner, dinner +time came, and the whole party went in to dinner. They found when +they entered the house that Mary Erskine had been frying nut-cakes and +apple-turnovers for them. There was a large earthen pan full of such +things, and there were more over the fire. There were also around the +table four bowls full of very rich looking milk, with a spoon in each +bowl, and a large supply of bread, cut into very small pieces, upon +a plate near the bowls. The children were all hungry and thirsty, and +they gathered around the table to eat the excellent dinner which Mary +Erskine had provided for them, with an air of great eagerness and +delight. + +After their dinner was over, Mary Erskine said that they might go out +and play for half an hour, and that then she would go with them +into the fields, and see if they could not find some strawberries. +Accordingly, when the time arrived, they all assembled at the door, +and Mary Erskine came out, bringing mugs and baskets to put the +strawberries in. There were four mugs made, of tin; such as were there +called _dippers_. There were two pretty large baskets besides, +both covered. Mary Erskine gave to each of the children a dipper, and +carried the baskets herself. She seemed to carry them very carefully, +and they appeared to be heavy, as if there might be something inside. +Phonny wanted very much to know what there was in those baskets. Mary +Erskine said he must guess. + +"Some cake," said Phonny. + +"Guess again," said Mary Erskine. + +"Apples," said Phonny. + +"Guess again," said Mary Erskine. + +"Why, have not I guessed right yet?" asked Phonny. + +"I can't tell you," replied Mary Erskine. "Only you may guess as much +as you please." + +Phonny of course gave up guessing, since he was not to be told whether +he guessed right or not; though he said he was sure that it was cake, +or else, perhaps, some of the turn-overs. The party walked along by +very pleasant paths until they came to a field by the side of the +brook. There were trees along the banks of the brook, under which, +and near the water, there were a great many cool and shady places +that were very pleasant. Mary Erskine led the way down to one of these +where there was a large flat stone near the water. She hid her two +baskets in the bushes, and then directed the children to go up into +the field with her and get the strawberries. The strawberries were not +only very abundant, but also very large and ripe. Mary Erskine said +that they might all eat ten, but no more. All that they got, except +ten, they must put into their dippers, until the dippers were full. +She herself went busily at work, finding strawberries and putting them +into the dippers of the children, sometimes into one and sometimes +into another. In a short time the dippers were full. + +The whole party then went back to the brook and sat down upon the +great flat stone, with their dippers before them. Mary Erskine then +brought out one of her baskets, and lifting up the cover, she took out +five saucers and five spoons. + +"There," said she, "I brought you some saucers and spoons to eat your +strawberries with. Now take up the bunches from your dippers, and pull +off the strawberries from the stems, and put them in the saucers." + +While the children were all busily engaged in doing this, Mary Erskine +opened the other basket, and took out a pitcher of very rich looking +cream. The sight of this treasure of course awakened in all the +party the utmost enthusiasm and delight. They went on hulling their +strawberries very industriously, and were soon ready, one after +another, to have the cream poured over them, which Mary Erskine +proceeded to do, giving to each one of the children a very abundant +supply. + +[Illustration: THE STRAWBERRY PARTY.] + +Phonny finished his strawberries first, and then went to the margin of +the brook to look into the water, in order, as he said, "to see if he +could see any fishes." He did see several, and became greatly excited +in consequence, calling eagerly upon the rest of the party to +come down and look. He said that he wished very much that he had a +fishing-line. Mary Erskine said that Thomas had a fishing-line, +which he would lend him, she had no doubt; and away Phonny went, +accordingly, to find Thomas and to get the line. + +This procedure was not quite right on Phonny's part. It is not right +to abandon one's party under such circumstances as these, for the sake +of some new pleasure accidentally coming into view, which the whole +party cannot share. Besides, Phonny left his dipper for Mary Erskine +or Malleville to carry up, instead of taking care of it himself. Mary +Erskine, however, said that this was of no consequence, as she could +carry it just as well as not. + +Mary Erskine and the three remaining children, then went back to the +house, where Bella and Malleville amused themselves for half an hour +in building houses with the blocks in Thomas's shop, when all at once +Malleville was surprised to see Beechnut coming in. Beechnut, was +returning from the mill, and as the children had had to walk nearly +all the way to Mary Erskine's, he thought it very probable that they +would be too tired to walk back again. So he had left his horse +and wagon at the corner, and had walked out to the farm to take the +children home with him, if they were ready to go. + +"I am not _ready_ to go," said Malleville, after having heard +this story, but I _will_ go for the sake of the ride. I am +too tired to walk all the way. But Phonny is not here. He has gone +a-fishing." + +"Where has he gone?" said Beechnut. + +"Down to the brook," replied Malleville. + +"I will go and find him," said Beechnut. + +So saying, Beechnut left the shop, went out into the yard, and began +to walk down the path which led toward the brook. Very soon he +saw Phonny coming out from among the bushes with his pole over his +shoulder, and walking along with quite a disconsolate air. Beechnut +sat down upon a log by the side of the road, to wait for him. + +"Did you catch any fishes?" said Beechnut, as Phonny approached him. + +"No," said Phonny, despondingly. + +"I am glad of that," said Beechnut. + +"Glad!" said Phonny, looking up surprised, and somewhat displeased. +"What are you glad for?" + +"For the sake of the fishes," said Beechnut. + +"Hoh!" said Phonny. "And the other day, when I did catch some, you +said you were glad of that." + +"Yes," said Beechnut, "then I was glad for your sake. There is always +a chance to be glad for some sake or other, happen what may." + +This, though very good philosophy, did not appear to be just at that +time at all satisfactory to Phonny. + +"I have had nothing but ill-luck all this afternoon," said Phonny, in +a pettish tone. "That great ugly black horse of Thomas's trod on my +foot." + +"Did he?" said Beechnut; his countenance brightening up at the same +time, as if Phonny had told him some good news. + +"Yes," said Phonny, "Thomas came along near where I was fishing, and I +laid down my fishing-line, and went up to the horse, and was standing +by his head, and he trod on my foot dreadfully." + +"Did he?" said Beechnut, "I am very glad of that." + +"Glad of that!" repeated Phonny. "I don't see whose sake you can be +glad of that for. I am sure it did not do the horse any good." + +"I am glad of that for your sake," said Beechnut. "There never was a +boy that grew up to be a man, that did not have his foot trod upon at +some time or other by a horse. There is no other possible way for +them to learn that when a horse takes up his foot, he will put it down +again wherever it happens, and if a boy's foot is under it, it will +get trod upon. There is no possible way for boys to learn that but +by experiencing it. The only difference is, that some boys take the +treading light, and others get it heavy. You have got it light. So if +you have only learned the lesson, you have learned it very easily, and +so I am glad." + +"No, it was not light," said Phonny. "It was very heavy. What makes +you think it was light?" + +"By your walking," replied Beechnut. "I have known some boys that when +they took their lesson in keeping out of the way of horses' forefeet, +could not stand for a week after it. You have had most excellent luck, +you may depend." + +By the time that Beechnut and Phonny reached the house, Malleville +had put on her bonnet and was ready to go. Mary Erskine said that she +would go with them a little way. Bella and Albert then wanted to go +too. Their mother said that she had no objection, and so they all went +along together. + +"Did you know that we were going to have a new road?" said Mary +Erskine to Beechnut. + +"Are you?" asked Phonny eagerly. + +"Yes," said Mary Erskine. "They have laid out a new road to the +corner, and are going to make it very soon. It will be a very good +wagon road, and when it is made you can ride all the way. But then it +will not be done in time for my raspberry party." + +"Your raspberry party?" repeated Phonny, "what is that?' + +"Did not I tell you about it? I am going to invite you and all the +children in the village that I know, to come here some day when the +raspberries are ripe, and have a raspberry party,--like the strawberry +party that we had to-day. There are a great many raspberries on my +place." + +"I'm _very_ glad," said Malleville. "When are you going to invite +us?" + +"Oh, in a week or two," said Mary Erskine. "But then the new road will +not be done until the fall. They have just begun it. We can hear them +working upon it in one place, pretty soon." + +The party soon came to the place which Mary Erskine had referred to. +It was a point where the new road came near the line of the old one, +and a party of men and oxen were at work, making a causeway, across a +low wet place. As the children passed along, they could hear the sound +of axes and the voices of men shouting to oxen. Phonny wished very +much to go and see. So Mary Erskine led the way through the woods a +short distance, till they came in sight of the men at work. They were +engaged in felling trees, pulling out rocks and old logs which were +sunken in the mire, by means of oxen and chains, and in other similar +works, making all the time loud and continual vociferations, which +resounded and echoed through the forest in a very impressive manner. + +What interested Phonny most in these operations, was to see how +patiently the oxen bore being driven about in the deep mire, and the +prodigious strength which they exerted in pulling out the logs. One of +the workmen would take a strong iron chain, and while two others would +pry up the end of a log with crow-bars or levers, he would pass +the chain under the end so raised, and then hook it together above. +Another man would then back up a pair of oxen to the place, and +sometimes two pairs, in order that they might be hooked to the chain +which passed around the log. When all was ready, the oxen were started +forward, and though they went very slowly, step by step, yet they +exerted such prodigious strength as to tear the log out of its bed, +and drag it off, roots, branches, and all, entirely out of the way. + +Monstrous rocks were lifted up and dragged out of the line of the road +in much the same manner. + +After looking at this scene for some time, the party returned to the +old road again, and there Mary Erskine said that she would bid her +visitors good-bye, and telling them that she would not forget to +invite them to her raspberry party, she took leave of them and went +back toward her own home. + +"If all the children of the village that Mary Erskine knows, are +invited to that party," said Phonny, "what a great raspberry party it +will be!" + +"Yes," said Beechnut, "it will be a raspberry _jam_." + + + + +THE END. + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Mary Erskine, by Jacob Abbott + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MARY ERSKINE *** + +***** This file should be named 14475.txt or 14475.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/4/4/7/14475/ + +Produced by Sherry Hamby, Ted Garvin, Cori Samuel and the PG Online +Distributed Proofreading Team + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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