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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf 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..017df24 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #52608 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/52608) diff --git a/old/52608-8.txt b/old/52608-8.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 6904435..0000000 --- a/old/52608-8.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,1593 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of For His Country and Grandmother and the Crow, by -Marshall Saunders - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most -other parts of the world 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. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - -Title: For His Country and Grandmother and the Crow - -Author: Marshall Saunders - -Release Date: July 20, 2016 [EBook #52608] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FOR HIS COUNTRY, GRANDMOTHER AND CROW *** - - - - -Produced by Larry B. Harrison, Ernest Schaal, and the -Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net -(This file was produced from images generously made -available by The Internet Archive) - - - - - - - - - - FOR HIS COUNTRY - AND - GRANDMOTHER AND THE CROW - - - - - Works of - Marshall Saunders - - [Illustration] - - Beautiful Joe's Paradise $1.50 - The Story of the Gravelys 1.50 - 'Tilda Jane 1.50 - Rose à Charlitte 1.50 - Deficient Saints 1.50 - Her Sailor 1.25 - For His Country .50 - Nita: The Story of an Irish Setter .50 - - [Illustration] - - L. C. PAGE AND COMPANY - New England Building, Boston, Mass. - - - - -[Illustration: -(Courtesy of The Youth's Companion) - "'MADEMOISELLE, YOU ARE AN AMERICAN?'"] - - - - - FOR HIS COUNTRY - AND - GRANDMOTHER AND THE CROW - - BY - MARSHALL SAUNDERS - AUTHOR OF - "BEAUTIFUL JOE, ETC." - - Illustrated by - LOUIS MEYNELL - _and others_ - - [Illustration] - - BOSTON - L. C. PAGE & COMPANY - PUBLISHERS - - - - - _Copyright, 1900_ - BY PERRY MASON & COMPANY - - _Copyright, 1900_ - BY L. C. PAGE & COMPANY - (INCORPORATED) - - _All rights reserved_ - - _Fourth Impression_ - - =Colonial Press= - Electrotyped and Printed by C. H. Simonds & Co - Boston, Mass., U.S.A. - - - - - [Illustration: CONTENTS] - - PAGE - - FOR HIS COUNTRY 13 - - GRANDMOTHER AND THE CROW 41 - - - - - [Illustration: ILLUSTRATIONS] - - PAGE - - "'MADEMOISELLE, YOU ARE AN AMERICAN?'" - (_Courtesy of the Youth's Companion_) _Frontispiece_ - - "SHE WENT ON GATHERING HER STICKS" 18 - - "'I AM FROM CALIFORNIA'" 21 - - "'YOU, TOO, LOVE YOUR COUNTRY!'" 27 - - "'THERE IS NO HOPE'" 32 - - "HE TRIED TO SING WITH THEM" 36 - - "I SAW SECOND COUSIN GEORGE FOLLOWING - HIM" (_Courtesy of the Youth's Companion_) 45 - - "HE WENT UP SOFTLY BEHIND HIM" (_Courtesy of the - Youth's Companion_) 50 - - "ROVER KNEW THIS CRY" (_Courtesy of the Youth's Companion_) 51 - - "'I AIN'T FIT TO DIE,' CRIED OLD GEORGE" 55 - - - - - FOR HIS COUNTRY - - - - - FOR HIS COUNTRY. - - "My country! 'tis of thee, - Sweet land of liberty, - Of thee I sing!" - -Here the singer's voice broke down, and I peered curiously around my -corner of the wall. He was pacing to and fro on the river-bank--a -weary-faced lad with pale cheeks and drooping shoulders. Beyond him a -fat French footman lay asleep on the grass, one hand loosely clutching a -novel. An elderly goat, grazing nearer and nearer the man, kept a wary -eye on the book, and finally seizing it, devoured it leaf by leaf. At -this the weary-faced boy did not smile, and then I knew there was -something the matter with him. - -Partly because I wished to console him, partly because I was lonely, I -continued the song in notes rather more cheerful than his own: - - "Land where my fathers died, - Land of the pilgrims' pride, - From every mountainside - Let freedom ring!" - -The boy stood stock-still, only moving his head slightly after the -manner of a bird listening to a pleasant strain. When I finished he came -toward me, cap in hand. - -"Mademoiselle, you are an American?" - -"No, my boy. I am a Canadian." - -"That's next best," he said, politely. - -"It's better," I rejoined, smiling. - -"Nothing is better than being an American." - -"You are patriotic," I observed. - -"If your ancestors fought with Indians, and English and rebels, and if -you expect to die for your country, you ought to be patriotic." - -I surveyed him curiously. He was too grave and joyless for a boy in a -normal condition. "In youth one does not usually speak of dying," I -said. - -His face flushed. "Ah, mademoiselle, I am homesick! I have not seen -America for a year." - -"Indeed? Such a patriotic boy should stay at home." - -"My mother wished me to finish my education abroad." - -"A woman should educate her children in the country in which they are to -live," I said, irritably. - -"I guess you're most old enough to be my mother, aren't you?" he -replied, gently, and with such tenderness of rebuke that I smiled -irrepressibly. He had delicately intimated that if I were his mother I -would not care to have him discuss me with a stranger. - -"I've got to learn foreign languages," he said, doggedly. "We've been -here one year; we must stay one more and then go to Italy, then to -Germany. I'm thankful the English haven't a different language. If they -had, I'd have to go learn it." - -"And after you leave Germany?" - -"After Germany--home!" - -He was not a particularly handsome lad, but he had beautiful eyes, and -at the word home they took on such a strange brilliance that I gathered -up my parasol and books in wondering silence. - -"I suppose," he said, soberly, "that you will not be at the Protestant -church on Sunday?" - -"Probably I shall." - -"I don't see many people from America," he went on, turning his head so -far away that I could hardly hear what he said. "There isn't anybody -here who cares to talk about it. My mother, of course, is too busy," he -added, with dignity. - -"_Au revoir_, then," I said, with a smile. - -He stood looking quietly after me, and when I got far up the river-bank -I turned around. He was adjusting a slight difference between the -footman and the goat; then, followed by the man, he disappeared up one -of the quaint old streets leading into the heart of the city. - -Close beside me a little old peasant woman, gathering sticks, uncurled -her stooping figure. "_Bon jour, mademoiselle!_ You have been talking to -the American boy." - -"_Oui, madame._" - -"It is very sad," she continued, in the excellent French spoken by the -peasants of the Loiret department. "He comes by the river and declaims. -He speaks of Linkum and Wash'ton. I watch from my cottage, for my -daughter Mathilde is housemaid at Madame Greyshield's, and I hear her -talk. _Monsieur le colonel_ Greyshield is a grand officer in America; -but his wife, she is proud. She brings her children to France to study. -She leaves the poor man lonely. This boy is most heartbroke. Mathilde -says he talks of his dear country in his sleep, then he rises early to -study the foreign languages, so he can more quickly go to his home. But -he is sick, his hand trembles. Mathilde thinks he is going to die. I -say, 'Mathilde, talk to madame,' but she is afraid, for madame has a -will as strong as this stout stick. It will never break. It must be -burnt. Perhaps mademoiselle will talk." - -"I will, if I get a chance." - -The old woman turned her brown, leathery face toward the blue waters of -the Loire. "Mademoiselle, do many French go to America for the accent?" - -"No; they have too much sense!" - -"It is droll," she went on, "how the families come here. The gentlemen -wander to and fro, the ladies occupy themselves with their _toilettes_. -Then they travel to other countries. They are like the leaves on that -current. They wander they know not whither. I am only a peasant, yet I -can think, and is not one language good enough to ask for bread and -soup?" And muttering and shaking her head, she went on gathering her -sticks. - -[Illustration] - -On Sunday I looked for my American boy. There he was, sitting beside a -handsomely dressed woman, who looked as if she might indeed have a will -like a stout stick. After the service he endeavoured to draw her toward -me, but she did not respond until she saw me speaking to a lady of -Huguenot descent, to whom I had had a letter of introduction. Then she -approached, and we all went down the street together. - -When we reached the boulevard leading to my hotel, the boy asked his -mother's permission to escort me home. She hesitated, and then said, -"Yes; but do not bore her to death with your patriotic rigmaroles." - -The boy, whose name was Gerald, gave her a peculiar glance, and did not -open his lips until we had walked a block. Then he asked, deliberately, -"Have you ever thought much of that idea of Abraham Lincoln's that no -man is good enough to govern another man without the other man's -consent?" - -"Yes, a good deal; yet one must obey." - -"Yes, one must obey," he said, quietly. "But sometimes it is puzzling, -especially when a fellow is growing up." - -"How old are you?" - -"Fourteen." - -"Not older?" - -"No; I am from California," and he drew himself up. "The boys and girls -there are large, you know. I have lost twenty pounds since we came here. -You have never been in California, I suppose?" - -[Illustration: "'I AM FROM CALIFORNIA.'"] - -"Yes. I like California." - -"You do?" He flashed one swift glance at me, then dropped his eyes. - -I politely averted my own, but not before I saw two tear-drops splash on -the hot, gray pavement. - -"If I could see," he said, presently, "if I could see one of those brown -hills, just one,--this flat country makes me tired." - -"Can you imagine," I said, "that I have been as homesick in California -as you are in France?" - -"No! no!" he replied, breathlessly. "No, I could not imagine that." - -"That I sailed into San Francisco Bay with a heartache because those -brown hills you speak of so lovingly were not my native hills?" - -"But you are grown up; you do not need to leave your country." - -"Our duty sometimes takes us to foreign lands. You will be a better -soldier some day for having had a time of trial and endurance." - -"I know it," he said, under his breath. "But sometimes I think I must -break loose, especially at night, when the bugles blow." - -I knew what he meant. At eight o'clock every evening, from the various -barracks in Orléans, the sweet, piercing notes of bugle answering bugle -could be heard; and the strain was the one played by the American bugles -in the school that I guessed he had attended. - -"You think of the boys drawn up in line on the drill-ground, and the -echo behind the hill." - -"Do you know Almoda?" he exclaimed, with a face as white as a sheet. - -"I do." - -This was too much for him. We had paused at the hotel entrance, and he -intended, I knew, to take a polite leave of me; but I had done a -dangerous thing in conjuring up the old familiar scenes, and mumbling -something in his throat, and giving one tug to his hat, he ran as nimbly -down the street as if he were a lean coyote from the hills of his native -State. - -Four weeks later I asked myself why I was lingering in Orléans. I had -seen all the souvenirs of Joan of Arc; I had talked with the peasants -and shopkeepers till I was tired; I agreed thoroughly with my guide-book -that Orléans is a city sadly lacking in animation; and yet I stayed on; -I stayed on because I was engaged in a bit of character study, I told my -note-book; stayed on because my presence afforded some consolation to a -struggling, unhappy boy, I told my conscience. - -The boy was dying of homesickness. He did not enter into the life of the -sleepy French city. "This is a good enough country," he said, wearily, -"but it isn't mine. I want America, and it seems to me all these priests -and soldiers and citizens are acting. I can't think they were born -speaking French." - -However, it was only at rare intervals that he complained. Away in -America he had a father who had set the high standard of duty before -him,--a father who would not encourage him to flag. - -On the Fourth of July, Mrs. Greyshield was giving a reception--not on -account of the day, for she had not a spark of patriotism, but because -she was shortly to leave Orléans for the seashore. Gerald was also -giving a reception, his a smaller one, prepared for in the face of -almost insurmountable difficulties, for he received no encouragement -from his mother in his patriotic schemes. - -His only pleasure in life was in endeavouring to make his little brother -and sister as patriotic as himself, and with ill-concealed dismay he -confided to me the fear that they were forgetting their native land. - -About the middle of the afternoon I joined him and the children in a -small, gaily decorated arbour at the foot of the garden. Shortly after I -arrived, Mrs. Greyshield, accompanied by a number of her guests, swept -down upon us. The French officers and their wives and a number of -English residents surrounded the arbour. - -"Ah, the delicious cakes! But they are not _babas_ and _savarins_ and -_tartelettes_! They must be American! What do you call this kind? -Doughnuts! How peculiar! How effective the arrangement of the bunting, -and how many flags--but all of his own country!" - -Mrs. Greyshield listened carelessly to the comments. "Oh, yes, he is -hopelessly provincial. I shall never teach him to be cosmopolitan. What -do you think of such narrowness, princess?" and in veiled admiration she -addressed her most distinguished guest, who was also her friend and -countrywoman. - -As Mrs. Greyshield spoke, the American princess, who was the possessor -of an exceedingly bitter smile, touched one of the flags with caressing -fingers. "It is a long time since I have seen one. Your boy has several. -I should like to have one for a cushion, if he will permit." - -The boy's nostrils dilated. "For a cushion!" he exclaimed. - -His tone was almost disrespectful, and his mother gave him a warning -glance, and said, hastily, "Certainly, princess. Gerald, choose your -prettiest flag." - -"Not for a cushion!" he said, firmly. "The flag should be up, never -down!" - -The gay group gazed with concealed interest at mother and son. - -Mrs. Greyshield seized a flag and offered it to her guest. - -"Thank you--not from you," said the princess, putting up her lorgnette. -"Only from the boy." - -[Illustration: "'YOU, TOO, LOVE YOUR COUNTRY!'"] - -He would not give her one. His mother was in a repressed rage, and the -boy kept his eyes bent on the ground in suffering silence. - -The titled lady put an end to the painful scene. "I have changed my -mind," she said, coolly. "I have too many cushions now." - -The boy turned swiftly to her, and, lifting the white hand hanging by -her side, gently touched it with his lips. - -"_Madame la Princesse_, you, too, love your country!" - -His exclamation was so enthusiastic, so heartfelt, there was in it such -a world of commiseration for the titled lady before him, that there -immediately flashed before each one present the unhappy life of the poor -princess in exile. The boy had started a wave of sympathy flowing from -one to another of the group, and in some confusion they all moved away. - -Gerald wiped the perspiration from his forehead, and went on with the -programme of patriotic selections that the impatient children were -obliged to go through before they could have the cakes and fireworks. - -After the fizzing and bursting noises were over, I said, regretfully, -"Gerald, I must go to Paris to-morrow." - -"I have been expecting this," he said, with dogged resignation. "When -you are gone, Miss Canada, I shall have no one to talk to me about -America." - -I had grown to love the boy for his high qualities of mind and soul, and -my voice faltered as I murmured, "Do not give up,--fight the good -fight." - -"Of faith," he added, gravely, "looking forward to what is to come." - -It seemed to me that an old man stood pressing my hand--an old man with -life's experience behind him. My heart ached for the lad, and I hurried -into the house. - -"Good-bye," I said, coldly, to my hostess. - -"Good-bye, a pleasant journey," she responded, with equal coldness. - -"If you do not take that boy of yours home, you will lose him," I -murmured. - -I thought my voice was low, but it was not low enough to escape the ears -of the princess, who was standing beside her. - -Mrs. Greyshield turned away, and the princess's lips moved almost -imperceptibly in the words, "What is the use?" - -"The boy is dying by inches!" I said, indignantly. - -"Better dead than like those--" she said, with her bitter smile, nodding -toward the chattering cosmopolitan crowd beyond us. - -I echoed the boy's words: "You, too, are a patriot!" - -"I was," she said, gravely, and sauntered away. - -I went unhappily to Paris. Would that another stranger could chance -along, to whom the boy might unburden his heart,--his noble heart, -filled not only with dreams of military glory, but of plans for the -protection of the weak and helpless among his countrymen! - -A week later a telegram from the princess summoned me to Orléans. To my -surprise, she met me on the staircase of Mrs. Greyshield's house. - -"You are right!" she whispered. "Mrs. Greyshield is to lose her boy!" - -My first feeling was one of anger. "Do not speak of such a thing!" I -said, harshly. - -"Come and see," and she led the way to a room where the weary-faced lad -lay on a huge, canopied bed, a nursing sister on either side of him. - -"The doctors are in consultation below," she murmured; "but there is no -hope." - - [Illustration] - -"Where is his mother?" - -"In her room. She sees no one. It is a foreign fashion, you know. She is -suffering deeply--at last." - -"Oh, this is horrible!" I said. "Can nothing be done?" - -"Do you observe what a perfect accent he has?" she said, meditatively. -"There must be excellent teachers at the _lycée_!" - -From the bed came occasionally muttered scraps of French prose or -poetry, and I shuddered as I listened. - -"Sacrificed for an accent!" she went on to herself. "It is a favourite -amusement of American mothers. This boy was torn from a father whom he -worshipped. I wonder what he will say when his wife returns to America -with two living children and one--" She turned to me. "I could have told -her that growing children should not be hurried from one country to -another. Yet it is better this way than the other." - -"The other?" I repeated, stupidly. - -"Yes, the other,--after years of residence abroad, no home, no country, -no attachments, a weary traveller till one dies. I thought you might -like to see him, as you were so attracted by him. He fainted the day you -left, and has been this way ever since. It cannot last much longer." - -We had been speaking in a low tone, yet our voices must have been heard -by the sleeper, for suddenly he turned his head on the pillow and looked -at us. - -The princess approached him, and murmured his name in an exquisitely -soft and gentle voice. The boy recognised her. - -"Ah, the princess!" he said, collectedly. "May I trouble you with a -message?" - -"Certainly." - -"It is for papa," he said, dreamily. "Will you tell him for me, -please--" Here his voice died away, and his dark, beseeching eyes rolled -from one to another of the people in the room. - -"Shall I send them away?" asked the princess. - -"No, thank you. It is only the pain. Will you--will you be good enough -to tell papa not to think me a coward? I promised him to hold out, -but--" - -"I will tell him." - -"And tell him I'm sorry we couldn't build that home and live together, -but I think if he prepared it mamma and the children might go. Tell him -I think they would be happier. America is so lovely! Mamma would get -used to it." - -He stopped, panting for breath, and one of the nurses put something on -his lips, while the other wiped away the drops of moisture that the -effort of speaking had brought to his spectral face. Then he closed his -eyes, and his pallid figure seemed to be sinking away from us; but -presently he roused himself, and this time his glance fell on me. - -"Miss Canada," he said, drowsily, "the salute to the flag--Dottie and -Howard." - -The princess motioned to one of the nurses, who slipped from the room -and presently returned with the children. A wan, evanescent flush -overspread his face at sight of the flag, and he tried to raise himself -on his elbow. One of the nurses supported him, and he fixed his glazing -but still beautiful eyes on the children. "Are you ready?" - -The small boy and girl were far from realising their brother's -condition, but they knew what he wished, and in a warbling voice little -Dottie began: - - "This is my country's flag, and I am my country's child, - To love and serve her well will ever be my joy." - -A little farther on her tiny brother took up the formula which it had -been Gerald's pleasure to teach them. - - [Illustration] - -The consultation below had broken up, and several of the doctors had -crept to the door of the room, but the boy did not seem to notice them. -His attention was riveted on the children, to the exclusion of all -others. - -"Give brother the flag!" he murmured, when they finished. - -They handed him the Stars and Stripes, but he could not retain it, and -the princess, quietly moving to the bedside, steadied it between his -trembling fingers. - -"Now sing with brother." - -The two children lifted up their little quavering voices, and turning -his own face to the ceiling, a face illumined by a joy not of this -world, he tried to sing with them: - - "My country! 'tis of thee, - Sweet land of liberty, - Of thee I sing!" - -Here his voice faltered, his radiant face drooped, and his darkening -eyes turned beseechingly in my direction. - -In a choking voice I finished the verse, as I had once before finished -it for him: - - "Land where my fathers died, - Land of the pilgrims' pride, - From every mountainside - Let freedom ring!" - -His head was on the pillow when I finished, but his fingers still -grasped the flag. - -"Gerald," said the princess, tenderly, "do you understand?" - -"Yes, I understand," fluttered from his pale lips. - -"And are you contented?" - -He pressed her hand slightly. - -"Would you rather die, or live to grow up and forget your country, as -you surely would do if you lived all your young life among strangers?" - -"I would rather die!" and here his voice was so firm that all in the -room heard it. - -"Dottie and Howard!" he murmured, presently, and the princess drew back. -After all, she was only a stranger. - -He died, with their little faces pressed close to his own. "Give my love -to mamma, dear mamma!" were his last words. Shortly after the nurses -drew the children away. The boy had had his wish. He had died for his -country as truly as if he had fallen in battle. - - - - - GRANDMOTHER AND THE CROW - - - - - GRANDMOTHER AND THE CROW. - - -When I was a little girl I lived with my grandmother, and a gay, lively -little grandmother she was. Away back in the family was French blood, -and I am sure that she resembled French old people, who are usually -vivacious and cheerful. On my twelfth birthday I was driving with her -through a thick wood, when we heard in front of us the loud shouting and -laughing of boys. - -"Drive on, George," said my grandmother; "let us see what this is all -about." - -As soon as he stopped, she sprang nimbly from the phaeton among -half-a-dozen flushed and excited boys who had stones in their hands. Up -in the tall trees above them were dozens of crows, which were cawing in -a loud and distressed manner, and flying restlessly from branch to -branch. A stone thrown by some boy with too true an aim had brought a -fine young crow to the ground. - -"Ha--I've got him. Thought I'd bring him down!" yelled a lad, -triumphantly. "Now give it to him, boys." - -The stones flew thick and fast at the poor crow. My grandmother screamed -and waved her hands, but the boys would not listen to her until she -rushed to the phaeton, seized the whip, and began smartly slashing those -bad boys about the legs. - -"Hi--stop that--you hurt! Here, some of you fellows take the whip from -her!" cried the boys, dancing like wild Indians around my grandmother. - -"Cowards!" she said; "if you must fight, why don't you attack something -your own size?" - -The boys slunk away, and she picked up the crow. One of its wings was -broken, and its body was badly bruised. She wrapped the poor bleeding -thing in our lap-robe, and told George to drive home. - -"Another pet, grandmother?" I asked. - -"Yes, Elizabeth," she returned, "if it lives." She had already eight -canaries, some tame snakes, a pair of doves, an old dog, white mice and -rats, and a tortoise. - -When we got home, she examined the crow's injuries, then sponged his -body with water, and decided that his wing was so badly broken that it -would have to be amputated. I held his head and feet while she performed -the surgical operation, and he squawked most dismally. When it was over, -she offered him bread and milk, which he did not seem able to eat until -she pushed the food down his throat with her slim little fingers. Then -he opened and closed his beak repeatedly, like a person smacking his -lips. - -"He may recover," she said, with delight; "now, where is he to sleep? -Come into the garden, Elizabeth." - -Our garden was walled in. There was a large kennel on a grass-plot under -my grandmother's bedroom window, and she stopped in front of it. - -"This can be fitted up for the crow, Elizabeth." - -"But what about Rover?" I said. "Where will he sleep?" - -"Down in the cellar, by the furnace," she said. "He is getting to be -rheumatic, and I owe him a better shelter than this in his old age. I -shall have a window put in at the back, so that the sun can shine in." - -For several days the crow sat in the kennel, his wings raised,--the -stump of the broken one was left,--making him look like a person -shrugging his shoulders, and the blood thickening and healing over his -wounds. Three times a day my grandmother dragged him out and pushed some -bread and milk down his throat; and three times a day he kicked and -struggled and clawed at her hands. But it soon became plain that he was -recovering. - -One day my grandmother found him trying to feed himself, and she was as -much pleased as a child would have been. The next day he stepped out on -the grass-plot. There he found a fine porcelain bath, that my -grandmother had bought for him. It was full of warm water, and he -stepped into it, flapped his wing with pleasure, and threw the water -over his body. - -"He is coming on!" cried my grandmother; "he will be the joy of my life -yet." - -[Illustration: "I SAW SECOND COUSIN GEORGE FOLLOWING HIM."] - -"What about Second Cousin George?" I asked. - -Second Cousin George--we had to call him that to distinguish him from -old George, the coachman--was a relative that lived with us. He was old, -cranky, poor, and a little weak-minded, and if it had not been for my -grandmother he would have been obliged to go to an almshouse. He hated -everything in the world except himself,--pets especially,--and if he had -not been closely watched, I think he would have put an end to some of -the creatures that my grandmother loved. - -One day after the crow was able to walk about the garden, I saw Second -Cousin George following him. I could not help laughing, for they were so -much alike. They both were fat and short, and dressed in black. Both put -their feet down in an awkward manner, carried their heads on one side, -and held themselves back as they walked. They had about an equal amount -of sense. - -In some respects, though, the crow was a little ahead of Second Cousin -George, and in some respects he was not, for on this occasion Second -Cousin George was making a kind of death-noose for him, and the crow -walked quietly behind the currant-bushes, never suspecting it. I ran for -grandmother, and she slipped quickly out into the garden. - -"Second Cousin George, what are you doing?" she said, quietly. - -He always looked up at the sky when he didn't know what to say, and as -she spoke, he eyed very earnestly some white clouds that were floating -overhead, and said never a word. - -"Were you playing with this cord?" said grandmother, taking it from him. -"What a fine loop you have in it!" She threw it dexterously over his -head. "Oh, I have caught you!" she said, with a little laugh, and began -pulling on the string. - -Second Cousin George still stood with his face turned up to the sky, his -cheeks growing redder and redder. - -"Why, I am choking you!" said grandmother, before she had really hurt -him; "do let me unfasten it." Then she took the string off his neck and -put it in her pocket. "Crows can feel pain just as men do, Second Cousin -George," she said, and walked away. - -Second Cousin George never molested the crow again. - -After a few weeks the crow became very tame, and took possession of the -garden. He dug worms from our choicest flower-beds, nipped off the tops -of growing plants, and did them far more damage than Rover the dog. But -my grandmother would not have him checked in anything. - -"Poor creature!" she said, sympathetically, "he can never fly again; let -him get what pleasure he can out of life." - -I was often sorry for him when the pigeons passed overhead. He would -flap his one long, beautiful wing, and his other poor stump of a thing, -and try to raise himself from the ground, crying, longingly, "Caw! Caw!" - -Not being able to fly, he would go quite over the garden in a series of -long hops,--that is, after he learned to guide himself. At first when he -spread his wings to help his jumps, the big wing would swing him around -so that his tail would be where he had expected to find his head. - -Many a time have I stood laughing at his awkward attempts to get across -the garden to grandmother, when she went out with some bits of raw meat -for him. She was his favourite, the only one that he would allow to come -near him or to stroke his head. - - [Illustration] - -He cawed with pleasure whenever he saw her at any of the windows, and -she was the only one that he would answer at all times. I often vainly -called to him, "Hallo, Jim Crow,--hallo!" but the instant grandmother -said, "Good Jim Crow--good Jim!" he screamed in recognition. - -He had many skirmishes with the dog over bones. Rover was old and partly -blind, and whenever Jim saw him with a bone he went up softly behind him -and nipped his tail. As Rover always turned and snapped at him, Jim -would seize the bone and run away with it, and Rover would go nosing -blindly about the garden trying to find him. They were very good -friends, however, apart from the bones, and Rover often did good service -in guarding the crow. - - [Illustration] - -The cats in the neighbourhood of course learned that there was an -injured bird in our garden, and I have seen as many as six at a time -sitting on the top of the wall looking down at him. The instant Jim saw -one he would give a peculiar cry of alarm that he kept for the cats -alone. Rover knew this cry, and springing up would rush toward the wall, -barking angrily, and frightening the cats away, though he never could -have seen them well enough to catch them. - -Jim detested not cats alone, but every strange face, every strange -noise, and every strange creature,--boys most of all. If one of them -came into the garden he would run to his kennel in a great fright. Now -this dislike of Jim's for strange noises saved some of my grandmother's -property, and also two people who might otherwise have gone completely -to the bad. - -About midnight, one dark November night, my grandmother and I were -sleeping quietly,--she in her big bed, and I in my little one beside -her. The room was a very large one, and our beds were opposite a French -window, which stood partly open, for my grandmother liked to have plenty -of fresh air at night. Under this window was Jim's kennel. - -I was having a very pleasant dream, when in the midst of it I heard a -loud, "Caw! Caw!" I woke, and found that my grandmother was turning over -sleepily in bed. - -"That's the crow's cat call," she murmured; "but cats could never get -into that kennel." - -"Let me get up and see," I said. - -"No, child," she replied. Then she reached out her hand, scratched a -match, and lighted the big lamp that stood on the table by her bed. - -I winked my eyes,--the room was almost as bright as day, and there, -half-way through the window, was George, our old coachman. His head was -in the room; his feet must have been resting on the kennel, his -expression was confused, and he did not seem to know whether to retreat -or advance. - -"Come in, George," said my grandmother, gravely. - -He finished crawling through the window, and stood looking dejectedly -down at his stocking feet. - -"What does this mean, George?" said my grandmother, ironically. "Are you -having nightmare, and did you think we might wish to go for a drive?" - -Old George never liked to be laughed at. He drew himself up. "I'm a -burglar, missus," he said, with dignity. - -My grandmother's bright, black eyes twinkled under the lace frills of -her nightcap. "Oho, are you indeed? Then you belong to a dangerous -class,--one to which actions speak louder than words," she said, calmly; -and putting one hand under her pillow, she drew out something that I had -never known she kept there. - -I thought at the time it was a tiny, shining revolver, but it really was -a bit of polished water-pipe with a faucet attached; for my grandmother -did not approve of the use of firearms. - -"Oh, missus, don't shoot--don't shoot! I ain't fit to die," cried old -George, dropping on his knees. - -"I quite agree with you," she said, coolly, laying down her pretended -revolver, "and I am glad you have some rag of a conscience left. Now -tell me who put you up to this. Some woman, I'll warrant you!" - -"Yes, missus, it was," he said, shamefacedly, "'twas Polly Jones,--she -that you discharged for impudence. She said that she'd get even with -you, and if I'd take your watch and chain and diamond ring, and some of -your silver, that we'd go to Boston, and she'd--she'd--" - -"Well," said grandmother, tranquilly, "she would do what?" - -"She said she'd marry me," sheepishly whispered the old man, hanging his -head. - -"Marry you indeed, old simpleton!" said my grandmother, dryly. "She'd -get you to Boston, fleece you well, and that's the last you'd see of -her. Where is Miss Polly?" - -[Illustration: "'I AIN'T FIT TO DIE,' CRIED OLD GEORGE."] - -"In--in the stable," whimpered the old man. - -"H'm," said grandmother, "waiting for the plunder, eh? Well, make haste. -My purse is in the upper drawer, my watch you see before you; here is my -diamond ring, and my spoons you have in your pocket." - -Old George began to cry, and counted every spoon he had in his pocket -out on the bureau before him, saying one, two, three, four, and so on, -through his tears. - -"Stop!" said my grandmother. "Put them back." - -The old man looked at her in astonishment. She made him return every -spoon to his pocket. Then she ordered him to hang the watch round his -neck, put the ring on his finger, and the purse in his pocket. - -"Take them out to the stable," she said, sternly; "sit and look at them -for the rest of the night. If you want to keep them by eight o'clock in -the morning, do so,--if not, bring them to me. And as for Miss Polly, -send her home the instant you set foot outside there, and tell her from -me that if she doesn't come to see me to-morrow afternoon she may expect -to have the town's officers after her as an accomplice in a burglary. -Now be off, or that crow will alarm the household. Not by the door, old -George, that's the way honest people go out. Oh, George, George, that a -carrion crow should be more faithful to me than you!" - -My grandmother lay for some time wide-awake, and I could hear the bed -shaking with her suppressed laughter. Then she would sigh, and murmur, -"Poor, deluded creatures!" - -Finally she dropped off to sleep, but I lay awake for the rest of the -night, thinking over what had taken place, and wondering whether Polly -Jones would obey my grandmother. - -I was with her the next day when Polly was announced. Grandmother had -been having callers, and was sitting in the drawing-room looking very -quaint and pretty in her black velvet dress and tiny lace cap. - -Polly, a bouncing country-girl, came in hanging her head. Grandmother -sat up very straight on the sofa and asked, "Would you like to go to the -penitentiary, Polly Jones?" - -"Oh, no, ma'am!" gasped Polly. - -"Would you like to come and live with me for awhile?" said my -grandmother. - -Now Polly did not want to do this, but she knew that she must fall in -with my grandmother's plans; so she hung her head a little lower and -whispered, "Yes, ma'am." - -"Very well, then," my grandmother said, "go and get your things." - -The next day my grandmother called to her the cook, the housemaid, and -the small boy that ran errands. - -"You have all worked faithfully," she said, "and I am going to give you -a holiday. Here is some money for you, and do not let me see you again -for a month. Polly Jones is going to stay with me." - -Polly stayed with us, and worked hard for a month. - -"You are a wicked girl," said my grandmother to her, "and you want -discipline. You have been idle, and idleness is the cause of half the -mischief in the world. But I will cure you." - -Polly took her lesson very meekly, and when the other maids came home, -grandmother took her on a trip to Boston. There she got a policeman to -take them about and show them how some of the wicked people of the city -lived. Among other places visited was a prison, and when Polly saw young -women like herself behind the bars, she broke down and begged -grandmother to take her home. And that reformed Polly effectually. - -As for old George, after that one miserable night in the stable, and his -utter contrition in the morning, he lived only for grandmother, and died -looking lovingly in her face. - -Jim the crow ruled the house as well as the garden after his exploit in -waking grandmother that eventful night. - -All this happened some years ago. My dear grandmother is dead now, and I -live in her house. Jim missed her terribly when she died, but I tried so -earnestly to cultivate his affections, and to make up his loss to him, -that I think he is really getting to be fond of me. - - - THE END. - - - - - COSY CORNER SERIES - - - It is the intention of the publishers that this series shall - contain only the very highest and purest literature,--stories - that shall not only appeal to the children themselves, but be - appreciated by all those who feel with them in their joys and - sorrows. - - The numerous illustrations in each book are by well-known - artists, and each volume has a separate attractive cover design. - - Each, 1 vol., 16mo, cloth $0.50 - - -_By ANNIE FELLOWS JOHNSTON_ - - -=The Little Colonel. (Trade Mark.)= - -The scene of this story is laid in Kentucky. Its heroine is a small -girl, who is known as the Little Colonel, on account of her fancied -resemblance to an old-school Southern gentleman, whose fine estate and -old family are famous in the region. This old Colonel proves to be the -grandfather of the child. - - -=The Giant Scissors.= - -This is the story of Joyce and of her adventures in France,--the -wonderful house with the gate of The Giant Scissors, Jules, her little -playmate, Sister Denisa, the cruel Brossard, and her dear Aunt Kate. -Joyce is a great friend of the Little Colonel, and in later volumes -shares with her the delightful experiences of the "House Party" and the -"Holidays." - - -=Two Little Knights of Kentucky.= - - WHO WERE THE LITTLE COLONEL'S NEIGHBORS. - -In this volume the Little Colonel returns to us like an old friend, but -with added grace and charm. She is not, however, the central figure of -the story, that place being taken by the "two little knights." - - -=Cicely and Other Stories for Girls.= - -The readers of Mrs. Johnston's charming juveniles will be glad to learn -of the issue of this volume for young people. - - -=Aunt 'Liza's Hero and Other Stories.= - -A collection of six bright little stories, which will appeal to all boys -and most girls. - - -=Big Brother.= - -A story of two boys. The devotion and care of Steven, himself a small -boy, for his baby brother, is the theme of the simple tale. - - -=Ole Mammy's Torment.= - -"Ole Mammy's Torment" has been fitly called "a classic of Southern -life." It relates the haps and mishaps of a small negro lad, and tells -how he was led by love and kindness to a knowledge of the right. - - -=The Story of Dago.= - -In this story Mrs. Johnston relates the story of Dago, a pet monkey, -owned jointly by two brothers. Dago tells his own story, and the account -of his haps and mishaps is both interesting and amusing. - - -=The Quilt That Jack Built.= - -A pleasant little story of a boy's labor of love, and how it changed the -course of his life many years after it was accomplished. - - -=Flip's Islands of Providence.= - -A story of a boy's life battle, his early defeat, and his final triumph, -well worth the reading. - - -_By EDITH ROBINSON_ - - -=A Little Puritan's First Christmas.= - -A story of Colonial times in Boston, telling how Christmas was invented -by Betty Sewall, a typical child of the Puritans, aided by her brother -Sam. - - -=A Little Daughter of Liberty.= - -The author's motive for this story is well indicated by a quotation from -her introduction, as follows: - -"One ride is memorable in the early history of the American Revolution, -the well-known ride of Paul Revere. Equally deserving of commendation is -another ride,--the ride of Anthony Severn,--which was no less historic -in its action or memorable in its consequences." - - -=A Loyal Little Maid.= - -A delightful and interesting story of Revolutionary days, in which the -child heroine, Betsey Schuyler, renders important services to George -Washington. - - -=A Little Puritan Rebel.= - -This is an historical tale of a real girl, during the time when the -gallant Sir Harry Vane was governor of Massachusetts. - - -=A Little Puritan Pioneer.= - -The scene of this story is laid in the Puritan settlement at -Charlestown. The little girl heroine adds another to the list of -favorites so well known to the young people. - - -=A Little Puritan Bound Girl.= - -A story of Boston in Puritan days, which is of great interest to -youthful readers. - - -=A Little Puritan Cavalier.= - -The story of a "Little Puritan Cavalier" who tried with all his boyish -enthusiasm to emulate the spirit and ideals of the dead Crusaders. - - -_By MISS MULOCK_ - - -=The Little Lame Prince.= - -A delightful story of a little boy who has many adventures by means of -the magic gifts of his fairy godmother. - - -=Adventures of a Brownie.= - -The story of a household elf who torments the cook and gardener, but is -a constant joy and delight to the children who love and trust him. - - -=His Little Mother.= - -Miss Mulock's short stories for children are a constant source of -delight to them, and "His Little Mother," in this new and attractive -dress, will be welcomed by hosts of youthful readers. - - -=Little Sunshine's Holiday.= - -An attractive story of a summer outing. "Little Sunshine" is another of -those beautiful child-characters for which Miss Mulock is so justly -famous. - - -_By JULIANA HORATIA EWING_ - - -=Jackanapes.= - -A new edition, with new illustrations, of this exquisite and touching -story, dear alike to young and old. - - -=Story of a Short Life.= - -This beautiful and pathetic story will never grow old. It is a part of -the world's literature, and will never die. - - -=A Great Emergency.= - -How a family of children prepared for a great emergency, and how they -acted when the emergency came. - - - - - Transcriber Notes: - -Passages in italics were indicated by _underscores_. - -Passages in bold were indicated by =equal signs=. - -Small caps were replaced with ALL CAPS. - -Throughout the dialogues, there were words used to mimic accents of -the speakers. Those words were retained as-is. - -The illustrations have been moved so that they do not break up -paragraphs and so that they are next to the text they illustrate. - -Errors in punctuations and inconsistent hyphenation were not corrected -unless otherwise noted. - - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of For His Country and Grandmother and -the Crow, by Marshall Saunders - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FOR HIS COUNTRY, GRANDMOTHER AND CROW *** - -***** This file should be named 52608-8.txt or 52608-8.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/5/2/6/0/52608/ - -Produced by Larry B. 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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. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - -Title: For His Country and Grandmother and the Crow - -Author: Marshall Saunders - -Release Date: July 20, 2016 [EBook #52608] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FOR HIS COUNTRY, GRANDMOTHER AND CROW *** - - - - -Produced by Larry B. Harrison, Ernest Schaal, and the -Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net -(This file was produced from images generously made -available by The Internet Archive) - - - - - - -</pre> - - -<div class="image-center"> -<img class="border" src="images/i_cover.jpg" width="468" height="700" alt="Cover" -title="Cover"/> -</div> - -<hr class="hr2" /> - -<h1>FOR HIS COUNTRY<br /> -AND<br /> -GRANDMOTHER AND THE CROW</h1> - -<hr class="hr2" /> - -<blockquote> -<p class="center">Works of</p> -<p class="center">Marshall Saunders</p> - -<div class="image-center"> -<img src="images/i_front_advert.jpg" width="91" height="70" alt="" /> -</div> - -<p>Beautiful Joe's Paradise <span class="ralign">$1.50</span></p> -<p>The Story of the Gravelys <span class="ralign">1.50</span></p> -<p>'Tilda Jane <span class="ralign">1.50</span></p> -<p>Rose à Charlitte <span class="ralign">1.50</span></p> -<p>Deficient Saints <span class="ralign">1.50</span></p> -<p>Her Sailor <span class="ralign">1.25</span></p> -<p>For His Country <span class="ralign">.50</span></p> -<p>Nita: The Story of an Irish Setter <span class="ralign">.50</span></p> - -<div class="image-center"> -<img src="images/i_front_advert.jpg" width="91" height="70" alt="" /> -</div> - -<p class="center">L. C. PAGE AND COMPANY</p> -<p class="center">New England Building, Boston, Mass.</p> -</blockquote> - -<hr class="hr2" /> - -<div class="image-center" style="max-width: 600px;"> -<a name="i_frontis" id="i_frontis"></a> -<img class="border" src="images/i_frontis.jpg" width="600" height="403" alt="" /> -<div class="caption"> -<p class="center">(Courtesy of The Youth's Companion)<br /> -"'MADEMOISELLE, YOU ARE AN AMERICAN?'"</p> -</div> -</div> - -<hr class="hr2" /> - -<div class="image-center"> -<img class="border" src="images/i_title.jpg" width="458" height="700" -alt="FOR HIS COUNTRY -AND -GRANDMOTHER AND THE CROW - -BY -MARSHALL SAUNDERS -AUTHOR OF -"BEAUTIFUL JOE, ETC." - -Illustrated by -LOUIS MEYNELL -and others - -[Illustration] - -BOSTON -L. C. PAGE & COMPANY -PUBLISHERS" -title="FOR HIS COUNTRY -AND -GRANDMOTHER AND THE CROW - -BY -MARSHALL SAUNDERS -AUTHOR OF -"BEAUTIFUL JOE, ETC." - -Illustrated by -LOUIS MEYNELL -and others - -[Illustration] - -BOSTON -L. C. PAGE & COMPANY -PUBLISHERS" /> -</div> - -<hr class="hr2" /> - -<p class="center"><i>Copyright, 1900</i><br /> -<span class="smcap">By Perry Mason & Company</span></p> - -<hr class="hrsm" /> - -<p class="center"><i>Copyright, 1900</i><br /> -<span class="smcap">By L. C. Page & Company</span><br /> -(INCORPORATED)</p> - -<hr class="hrsm" /> - -<p class="center"><i>All rights reserved</i></p> - -<p class="center"><i>Fourth Impression</i></p> - -<p class="center"><span class="cursive">Colonial Press</span><br /> -Electrotyped and Printed by C. H. Simonds & Co<br /> -Boston, Mass., U.S.A.</p> - -<hr class="hr2" /> - -<div class="image-center"> -<img src="images/i_contents.jpg" width="500" height="367" alt="Contents" title="Contents" /> -</div> - -<p class="right"><span class="smcap">PAGE</span></p> - -<blockquote> -<p><span class="smcap">For His Country</span> <span class="ralign"><a href="#page13">13</a></span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Grandmother and the Crow</span> <span class="ralign"><a href="#page41">41</a></span></p> -</blockquote> - -<hr class="hr2" /> - -<div class="image-center"> -<img src="images/i_illus.jpg" width="500" height="201" alt="Illustrations" title="Illustrations" /> -</div> - -<p class="right"><span class="smcap">PAGE</span></p> - -<blockquote> -<p class="indent">"'<span class="smcap">Mademoiselle, you are an American?</span>'" -(<i>Courtesy of the Youth's Companion</i>) <span class="ralign"><a href="#i_frontis"><i>Frontispiece</i></a></span></p> - -<p class="indent">"<span class="smcap">She went on gathering her sticks</span>" <span class="ralign"><a href="#i_018">18</a></span></p> - -<p class="indent">"'<span class="smcap">I am from California</span>'" <span class="ralign"><a href="#i_021">21</a></span></p> - -<p class="indent">"'<span class="smcap">You, too, love your country!</span>'" <span class="ralign"><a href="#i_027">27</a></span></p> - -<p class="indent">"'<span class="smcap">There is no hope</span>'" <span class="ralign"><a href="#i_032">32</a></span></p> - -<p class="indent">"<span class="smcap">He tried to sing with them</span>" <span class="ralign"><a href="#i_036">36</a></span></p> - -<p class="indent">"<span class="smcap">I saw second cousin George following -him</span>" (<i>Courtesy of the Youth's Companion</i>) <span class="ralign"><a href="#i_045">45</a></span></p> - -<p class="indent">"<span class="smcap">He went up softly behind him</span>" (<i>Courtesy of the -Youth's Companion</i>) <span class="ralign"><a href="#i_050">50</a></span></p> - -<p class="indent">"<span class="smcap">Rover knew this cry</span>" (<i>Courtesy of the Youth's Companion</i>) <span class="ralign"><a href="#i_051">51</a></span></p> - -<p class="indent">"<span class="smcap">'I ain't fit to die,' cried old George</span>" <span class="ralign"><a href="#i_055">55</a></span></p> -</blockquote> - -<hr class="hr2" /> - -<h2>FOR HIS COUNTRY</h2> - -<hr class="hr2" /> - -<p class="h2"><a name="page13" id="page13"></a>FOR HIS COUNTRY.</p> - -<hr class="hrsm" /> - -<div class="poem"> -<div class="stanza"> -<span class="i2">"My country! 'tis of thee,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Sweet land of liberty,</span><br /> -<span class="i4">Of thee I sing!"</span><br /> -</div> -</div> - - -<p class="indent"><span class="smcap">Here</span> the singer's voice broke down, and I -peered curiously around my corner of the wall. -He was pacing to and fro on the river-bank—a -weary-faced lad with pale cheeks and drooping -shoulders. Beyond him a fat French footman -lay asleep on the grass, one hand loosely -clutching a novel. An elderly goat, grazing -nearer and nearer the man, kept a wary eye on -the book, and finally seizing it, devoured it leaf -by leaf. At this the weary-faced boy did not -smile, and then I knew there was something -the matter with him.</p> - -<p class="indent">Partly because I wished to console him, -partly because I was lonely, I continued the -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page14" id="page14"></a>[pg 14]</span> -song in notes rather more cheerful than his -own:</p> - -<div class="poem"> -<div class="stanza"> -<span class="i2">"Land where my fathers died,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Land of the pilgrims' pride,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">From every mountainside</span><br /> -<span class="i4">Let freedom ring!"</span><br /> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="indent">The boy stood stock-still, only moving his -head slightly after the manner of a bird listening -to a pleasant strain. When I finished he -came toward me, cap in hand.</p> - -<p class="indent">"Mademoiselle, you are an American?"</p> - -<p class="indent">"No, my boy. I am a Canadian."</p> - -<p class="indent">"That's next best," he said, politely.</p> - -<p class="indent">"It's better," I rejoined, smiling.</p> - -<p class="indent">"Nothing is better than being an American."</p> - -<p class="indent">"You are patriotic," I observed.</p> - -<p class="indent">"If your ancestors fought with Indians, and -English and rebels, and if you expect to die for -your country, you ought to be patriotic."</p> - -<p class="indent">I surveyed him curiously. He was too grave -and joyless for a boy in a normal condition. -"In youth one does not usually speak of dying," -I said.</p> - -<p class="indent">His face flushed. "Ah, mademoiselle, I am -homesick! I have not seen America for a -year."</p> - -<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum"><a name="page15" id="page15"></a>[pg 15]</span> -"Indeed? Such a patriotic boy should stay -at home."</p> - -<p class="indent">"My mother wished me to finish my education -abroad."</p> - -<p class="indent">"A woman should educate her children in -the country in which they are to live," I said, -irritably.</p> - -<p class="indent">"I guess you're most old enough to be my -mother, aren't you?" he replied, gently, and -with such tenderness of rebuke that I smiled -irrepressibly. He had delicately intimated that -if I were his mother I would not care to have -him discuss me with a stranger.</p> - -<p class="indent">"I've got to learn foreign languages," he -said, doggedly. "We've been here one year; -we must stay one more and then go to Italy, -then to Germany. I'm thankful the English -haven't a different language. If they had, I'd -have to go learn it."</p> - -<p class="indent">"And after you leave Germany?"</p> - -<p class="indent">"After Germany—home!"</p> - -<p class="indent">He was not a particularly handsome lad, but -he had beautiful eyes, and at the word home -they took on such a strange brilliance that I -gathered up my parasol and books in wondering -silence.</p> - -<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum"><a name="page16" id="page16"></a>[pg 16]</span> -"I suppose," he said, soberly, "that you will -not be at the Protestant church on Sunday?"</p> - -<p class="indent">"Probably I shall."</p> - -<p class="indent">"I don't see many people from America," he -went on, turning his head so far away that I -could hardly hear what he said. "There isn't -anybody here who cares to talk about it. My -mother, of course, is too busy," he added, with -dignity.</p> - -<p class="indent">"<i>Au revoir</i>, then," I said, with a smile.</p> - -<p class="indent">He stood looking quietly after me, and when -I got far up the river-bank I turned around. -He was adjusting a slight difference between -the footman and the goat; then, followed by -the man, he disappeared up one of the quaint -old streets leading into the heart of the city.</p> - -<p class="indent">Close beside me a little old peasant woman, -gathering sticks, uncurled her stooping figure. -"<i>Bon jour, mademoiselle!</i> You have been talking -to the American boy."</p> - -<p class="indent">"<i>Oui, madame.</i>"</p> - -<p class="indent">"It is very sad," she continued, in the excellent -French spoken by the peasants of the -Loiret department. "He comes by the river -and declaims. He speaks of Linkum and -Wash'ton. I watch from my cottage, for my -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page17" id="page17"></a>[pg 17]</span> -daughter Mathilde is housemaid at Madame -Greyshield's, and I hear her talk. <i>Monsieur -le colonel</i> Greyshield is a grand officer in -America; but his wife, she is proud. She -brings her children to France to study. -She leaves the poor man lonely. This boy is -most heartbroke. Mathilde says he talks of his -dear country in his sleep, then he rises early -to study the foreign languages, so he can more -quickly go to his home. But he is sick, his -hand trembles. Mathilde thinks he is going to -die. I say, 'Mathilde, talk to madame,' but -she is afraid, for madame has a will as strong -as this stout stick. It will never break. It -must be burnt. Perhaps mademoiselle will -talk."</p> - -<p class="indent">"I will, if I get a chance."</p> - -<p class="indent">The old woman turned her brown, leathery -face toward the blue waters of the Loire. -"Mademoiselle, do many French go to America -for the accent?"</p> - -<p class="indent">"No; they have too much sense!"</p> - -<p class="indent">"It is droll," she went on, "how the families -come here. The gentlemen wander to and fro, -the ladies occupy themselves with their <i>toilettes</i>. -Then they travel to other countries. They are -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page18" id="page18"></a>[pg 18]</span> -like the leaves on that current. They wander -they know not whither. I am only a peasant, -yet I can think, and is not one language good -enough to ask for bread and soup?" And -muttering and shaking her head, she went on -gathering her sticks.</p> - -<div class="image-center"> -<a name="i_018" id="i_018"></a> -<img class="border" src="images/i_018.jpg" width="600" height="537" alt="" /> -</div> - -<p class="indent">On Sunday I looked for my American boy. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page19" id="page19"></a>[pg 19]</span> -There he was, sitting beside a handsomely -dressed woman, who looked as if she might indeed -have a will like a stout stick. After the -service he endeavoured to draw her toward me, -but she did not respond until she saw me -speaking to a lady of Huguenot descent, to -whom I had had a letter of introduction. Then -she approached, and we all went down the -street together.</p> - -<p class="indent">When we reached the boulevard leading to -my hotel, the boy asked his mother's permission -to escort me home. She hesitated, and -then said, "Yes; but do not bore her to death -with your patriotic rigmaroles."</p> - -<p class="indent">The boy, whose name was Gerald, gave her a -peculiar glance, and did not open his lips until -we had walked a block. Then he asked, deliberately, -"Have you ever thought much of -that idea of Abraham Lincoln's that no man is -good enough to govern another man without -the other man's consent?"</p> - -<p class="indent">"Yes, a good deal; yet one must obey."</p> - -<p class="indent">"Yes, one must obey," he said, quietly. -"But sometimes it is puzzling, especially when -a fellow is growing up."</p> - -<p class="indent">"How old are you?"</p> - -<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum"><a name="page20" id="page20"></a>[pg 20]</span> -"Fourteen."</p> - -<p class="indent">"Not older?"</p> - -<p class="indent">"No; I am from California," and he drew -himself up. "The boys and girls there are -large, you know. I have lost twenty pounds -since we came here. You have never been in -California, I suppose?"</p> - -<div class="image-center" style="max-width: 508px;"> -<a name="i_021" id="i_021"></a> -<img class="border" src="images/i_021.jpg" width="508" height="700" alt="" /> -<div class="caption"> -<p class="center">"'I AM FROM CALIFORNIA.'"</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="indent">"Yes. I like California."</p> - -<p class="indent">"You do?" He flashed one swift glance at -me, then dropped his eyes.</p> - -<p class="indent">I politely averted my own, but not before I -saw two tear-drops splash on the hot, gray -pavement.</p> - -<p class="indent">"If I could see," he said, presently, "if I -could see one of those brown hills, just one,—this -flat country makes me tired."</p> - -<p class="indent">"Can you imagine," I said, "that I have -been as homesick in California as you are in -France?"</p> - -<p class="indent">"No! no!" he replied, breathlessly. "No, -I could not imagine that."</p> - -<p class="indent">"That I sailed into San Francisco Bay with -a heartache because those brown hills you speak -of so lovingly were not my native hills?"</p> - -<p class="indent">"But you are grown up; you do not need to -leave your country."</p> - -<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum"><a name="page23" id="page23"></a>[pg 23]</span> -"Our duty sometimes takes us to foreign -lands. You will be a better soldier some day -for having had a time of trial and endurance."</p> - -<p class="indent">"I know it," he said, under his breath. "But -sometimes I think I must break loose, especially -at night, when the bugles blow."</p> - -<p class="indent">I knew what he meant. At eight o'clock -every evening, from the various barracks in -Orléans, the sweet, piercing notes of bugle -answering bugle could be heard; and the strain -was the one played by the American bugles in -the school that I guessed he had attended.</p> - -<p class="indent">"You think of the boys drawn up in line on -the drill-ground, and the echo behind the hill."</p> - -<p class="indent">"Do you know Almoda?" he exclaimed, with -a face as white as a sheet.</p> - -<p class="indent">"I do."</p> - -<p class="indent">This was too much for him. We had paused -at the hotel entrance, and he intended, I knew, -to take a polite leave of me; but I had done a -dangerous thing in conjuring up the old familiar -scenes, and mumbling something in his throat, -and giving one tug to his hat, he ran as nimbly -down the street as if he were a lean coyote -from the hills of his native State.</p> - -<p class="indent">Four weeks later I asked myself why I was -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page24" id="page24"></a>[pg 24]</span> -lingering in Orléans. I had seen all the souvenirs -of Joan of Arc; I had talked with the -peasants and shopkeepers till I was tired; I -agreed thoroughly with my guide-book that Orléans -is a city sadly lacking in animation; and -yet I stayed on; I stayed on because I was -engaged in a bit of character study, I told my -note-book; stayed on because my presence afforded -some consolation to a struggling, unhappy -boy, I told my conscience.</p> - -<p class="indent">The boy was dying of homesickness. He -did not enter into the life of the sleepy French -city. "This is a good enough country," he -said, wearily, "but it isn't mine. I want -America, and it seems to me all these priests -and soldiers and citizens are acting. I can't -think they were born speaking French."</p> - -<p class="indent">However, it was only at rare intervals that -he complained. Away in America he had a -father who had set the high standard of duty -before him,—a father who would not encourage -him to flag.</p> - -<p class="indent">On the Fourth of July, Mrs. Greyshield was -giving a reception—not on account of the day, -for she had not a spark of patriotism, but because -she was shortly to leave Orléans for the -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page25" id="page25"></a>[pg 25]</span> -seashore. Gerald was also giving a reception, -his a smaller one, prepared for in the face of -almost insurmountable difficulties, for he received -no encouragement from his mother in -his patriotic schemes.</p> - -<p class="indent">His only pleasure in life was in endeavouring -to make his little brother and sister as patriotic -as himself, and with ill-concealed dismay he -confided to me the fear that they were forgetting -their native land.</p> - -<p class="indent">About the middle of the afternoon I joined -him and the children in a small, gaily decorated -arbour at the foot of the garden. Shortly after -I arrived, Mrs. Greyshield, accompanied by a -number of her guests, swept down upon us. -The French officers and their wives and a -number of English residents surrounded the -arbour.</p> - -<p class="indent">"Ah, the delicious cakes! But they are -not <i>babas</i> and <i>savarins</i> and <i>tartelettes</i>! They -must be American! What do you call this -kind? Doughnuts! How peculiar! How effective -the arrangement of the bunting, and -how many flags—but all of his own country!"</p> - -<p class="indent">Mrs. Greyshield listened carelessly to the comments. -"Oh, yes, he is hopelessly provincial. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page26" id="page26"></a>[pg 26]</span> -I shall never teach him to be cosmopolitan. -What do you think of such narrowness, princess?" -and in veiled admiration she addressed -her most distinguished guest, who was also -her friend and countrywoman.</p> - -<p class="indent">As Mrs. Greyshield spoke, the American -princess, who was the possessor of an exceedingly -bitter smile, touched one of the flags with -caressing fingers. "It is a long time since I -have seen one. Your boy has several. I should -like to have one for a cushion, if he will permit."</p> - -<p class="indent">The boy's nostrils dilated. "For a cushion!" -he exclaimed.</p> - -<p class="indent">His tone was almost disrespectful, and his -mother gave him a warning glance, and said, -hastily, "Certainly, princess. Gerald, choose -your prettiest flag."</p> - -<p class="indent">"Not for a cushion!" he said, firmly. "The -flag should be up, never down!"</p> - -<p class="indent">The gay group gazed with concealed interest -at mother and son.</p> - -<p class="indent">Mrs. Greyshield seized a flag and offered it -to her guest.</p> - -<p class="indent">"Thank you—not from you," said the princess, -putting up her lorgnette. "Only from -the boy."</p> - -<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum"><a name="page29" id="page29"></a>[pg 29]</span> -He would not give her one. His mother -was in a repressed rage, and the boy kept his -eyes bent on the ground in suffering silence.</p> - -<p class="indent">The titled lady put an end to the painful -scene. "I have changed my mind," she -said, coolly. "I have too many cushions -now."</p> - -<p class="indent">The boy turned swiftly to her, and, lifting the -white hand hanging by her side, gently touched -it with his lips.</p> - -<p class="indent">"<i>Madame la Princesse</i>, you, too, love your -country!"</p> - -<div class="image-center" style="max-width: 543px;"> -<a name="i_027" id="i_027"></a> -<img class="border" src="images/i_027.jpg" width="543" height="700" alt="" /> -<div class="caption"> -<p class="center">"'YOU, TOO, LOVE YOUR COUNTRY!'"</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="indent">His exclamation was so enthusiastic, so -heartfelt, there was in it such a world of commiseration -for the titled lady before him, that -there immediately flashed before each one -present the unhappy life of the poor princess -in exile. The boy had started a wave of -sympathy flowing from one to another of the -group, and in some confusion they all moved -away.</p> - -<p class="indent">Gerald wiped the perspiration from his forehead, -and went on with the programme of patriotic -selections that the impatient children -were obliged to go through before they could -have the cakes and fireworks.</p> - -<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum"><a name="page30" id="page30"></a>[pg 30]</span> -After the fizzing and bursting noises were -over, I said, regretfully, "Gerald, I must go to -Paris to-morrow."</p> - -<p class="indent">"I have been expecting this," he said, with -dogged resignation. "When you are gone, -Miss Canada, I shall have no one to talk to me -about America."</p> - -<p class="indent">I had grown to love the boy for his high -qualities of mind and soul, and my voice faltered -as I murmured, "Do not give up,—fight the -good fight."</p> - -<p class="indent">"Of faith," he added, gravely, "looking forward -to what is to come."</p> - -<p class="indent">It seemed to me that an old man stood pressing -my hand—an old man with life's experience -behind him. My heart ached for the lad, and I -hurried into the house.</p> - -<p class="indent">"Good-bye," I said, coldly, to my hostess.</p> - -<p class="indent">"Good-bye, a pleasant journey," she responded, -with equal coldness.</p> - -<p class="indent">"If you do not take that boy of yours home, -you will lose him," I murmured.</p> - -<p class="indent">I thought my voice was low, but it was not -low enough to escape the ears of the princess, -who was standing beside her.</p> - -<p class="indent">Mrs. Greyshield turned away, and the princess's -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page31" id="page31"></a>[pg 31]</span> -lips moved almost imperceptibly in the -words, "What is the use?"</p> - -<p class="indent">"The boy is dying by inches!" I said, indignantly.</p> - -<p class="indent">"Better dead than like those—" she said, -with her bitter smile, nodding toward the chattering -cosmopolitan crowd beyond us.</p> - -<p class="indent">I echoed the boy's words: "You, too, are a -patriot!"</p> - -<p class="indent">"I was," she said, gravely, and sauntered away.</p> - -<p class="indent">I went unhappily to Paris. Would that -another stranger could chance along, to whom -the boy might unburden his heart,—his noble -heart, filled not only with dreams of military -glory, but of plans for the protection of the -weak and helpless among his countrymen!</p> - -<p class="indent">A week later a telegram from the princess -summoned me to Orléans. To my surprise, -she met me on the staircase of Mrs. Greyshield's -house.</p> - -<p class="indent">"You are right!" she whispered. "Mrs. -Greyshield is to lose her boy!"</p> - -<p class="indent">My first feeling was one of anger. "Do not -speak of such a thing!" I said, harshly.</p> - -<p class="indent">"Come and see," and she led the way to a -room where the weary-faced lad lay on a huge, -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page32" id="page32"></a>[pg 32]</span> -canopied bed, a nursing sister on either side of -him.</p> - -<p class="indent">"The doctors are in consultation below," she -murmured; "but there is no hope."</p> - -<div class="image-center"> -<a name="i_032" id="i_032"></a> -<img class="border" src="images/i_032.jpg" width="600" height="587" alt="" /> -</div> - -<p class="indent">"Where is his mother?"</p> - -<p class="indent">"In her room. She sees no one. It is a -foreign fashion, you know. She is suffering -deeply—at last."</p> - -<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum"><a name="page33" id="page33"></a>[pg 33]</span> -"Oh, this is horrible!" I said. "Can nothing -be done?"</p> - -<p class="indent">"Do you observe what a perfect accent he -has?" she said, meditatively. "There must -be excellent teachers at the <i>lycée</i>!"</p> - -<p class="indent">From the bed came occasionally muttered -scraps of French prose or poetry, and I shuddered -as I listened.</p> - -<p class="indent">"Sacrificed for an accent!" she went on to -herself. "It is a favourite amusement of American -mothers. This boy was torn from a father -whom he worshipped. I wonder what he will -say when his wife returns to America with two -living children and one—" She turned to me. -"I could have told her that growing children -should not be hurried from one country to -another. Yet it is better this way than the -other."</p> - -<p class="indent">"The other?" I repeated, stupidly.</p> - -<p class="indent">"Yes, the other,—after years of residence -abroad, no home, no country, no attachments, a -weary traveller till one dies. I thought you -might like to see him, as you were so attracted -by him. He fainted the day you left, and has -been this way ever since. It cannot last much -longer."</p> - -<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum"><a name="page34" id="page34"></a>[pg 34]</span> -We had been speaking in a low tone, yet our -voices must have been heard by the sleeper, for -suddenly he turned his head on the pillow and -looked at us.</p> - -<p class="indent">The princess approached him, and murmured -his name in an exquisitely soft and gentle voice. -The boy recognised her.</p> - -<p class="indent">"Ah, the princess!" he said, collectedly. -"May I trouble you with a message?"</p> - -<p class="indent">"Certainly."</p> - -<p class="indent">"It is for papa," he said, dreamily. "Will -you tell him for me, please—" Here his -voice died away, and his dark, beseeching eyes -rolled from one to another of the people in -the room.</p> - -<p class="indent">"Shall I send them away?" asked the princess.</p> - -<p class="indent">"No, thank you. It is only the pain. Will -you—will you be good enough to tell papa not -to think me a coward? I promised him to hold -out, but—"</p> - -<p class="indent">"I will tell him."</p> - -<p class="indent">"And tell him I'm sorry we couldn't build -that home and live together, but I think if -he prepared it mamma and the children might -go. Tell him I think they would be happier. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page35" id="page35"></a>[pg 35]</span> -America is so lovely! Mamma would get used -to it."</p> - -<p class="indent">He stopped, panting for breath, and one of -the nurses put something on his lips, while the -other wiped away the drops of moisture that -the effort of speaking had brought to his -spectral face. Then he closed his eyes, and -his pallid figure seemed to be sinking away -from us; but presently he roused himself, and -this time his glance fell on me.</p> - -<p class="indent">"Miss Canada," he said, drowsily, "the salute -to the flag—Dottie and Howard."</p> - -<p class="indent">The princess motioned to one of the nurses, -who slipped from the room and presently returned -with the children. A wan, evanescent -flush overspread his face at sight of the flag, -and he tried to raise himself on his elbow. One -of the nurses supported him, and he fixed his -glazing but still beautiful eyes on the children. -"Are you ready?"</p> - -<p class="indent">The small boy and girl were far from realising -their brother's condition, but they knew what -he wished, and in a warbling voice little Dottie -began:</p> - -<div class="poem"> -<div class="stanza"> -<span class="i2">"This is my country's flag, and I am my country's child,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">To love and serve her well will ever be my joy."</span><br /> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum"><a name="page36" id="page36"></a>[pg 36]</span> -A little farther on her tiny brother took up -the formula which it had been Gerald's pleasure -to teach them.</p> - -<div class="image-center"> -<a name="i_036" id="i_036"></a> -<img class="border" src="images/i_036.jpg" width="567" height="600" alt="" /> -</div> - -<p class="indent">The consultation below had broken up, and -several of the doctors had crept to the door of -the room, but the boy did not seem to notice -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page37" id="page37"></a>[pg 37]</span> -them. His attention was riveted on the children, -to the exclusion of all others.</p> - -<p class="indent">"Give brother the flag!" he murmured, -when they finished.</p> - -<p class="indent">They handed him the Stars and Stripes, but -he could not retain it, and the princess, quietly -moving to the bedside, steadied it between his -trembling fingers.</p> - -<p class="indent">"Now sing with brother."</p> - -<p class="indent">The two children lifted up their little quavering -voices, and turning his own face to the -ceiling, a face illumined by a joy not of this -world, he tried to sing with them:</p> - -<div class="poem"> -<div class="stanza"> -<span class="i4">"My country! 'tis of thee,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Sweet land of liberty,</span><br /> -<span class="i4">Of thee I sing!"</span><br /> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="indent">Here his voice faltered, his radiant face -drooped, and his darkening eyes turned beseechingly -in my direction.</p> - -<p class="indent">In a choking voice I finished the verse, as I -had once before finished it for him:</p> - -<div class="poem"> -<div class="stanza"> -<span class="i2">"Land where my fathers died,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Land of the pilgrims' pride,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">From every mountainside</span><br /> -<span class="i4">Let freedom ring!"</span><br /> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum"><a name="page38" id="page38"></a>[pg 38]</span> -His head was on the pillow when I finished, -but his fingers still grasped the flag.</p> - -<p class="indent">"Gerald," said the princess, tenderly, "do -you understand?"</p> - -<p class="indent">"Yes, I understand," fluttered from his pale -lips.</p> - -<p class="indent">"And are you contented?"</p> - -<p class="indent">He pressed her hand slightly.</p> - -<p class="indent">"Would you rather die, or live to grow up and -forget your country, as you surely would do if -you lived all your young life among strangers?"</p> - -<p class="indent">"I would rather die!" and here his voice was -so firm that all in the room heard it.</p> - -<p class="indent">"Dottie and Howard!" he murmured, presently, -and the princess drew back. After all, -she was only a stranger.</p> - -<p class="indent">He died, with their little faces pressed close -to his own. "Give my love to mamma, dear -mamma!" were his last words. Shortly after -the nurses drew the children away. The boy -had had his wish. He had died for his country -as truly as if he had fallen in battle.</p> - -<hr class="hr2" /> - -<h2>GRANDMOTHER AND THE CROW</h2> - -<hr class="hr2" /> - -<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum"><a name="page41" id="page41"></a>[pg 41]</span></p> - -<p class="h2">GRANDMOTHER AND THE CROW.</p> - -<p class="indent">When I was a little girl I lived with my -grandmother, and a gay, lively little grandmother -she was. Away back in the family -was French blood, and I am sure that she resembled -French old people, who are usually -vivacious and cheerful. On my twelfth birthday -I was driving with her through a thick -wood, when we heard in front of us the loud -shouting and laughing of boys.</p> - -<p class="indent">"Drive on, George," said my grandmother; -"let us see what this is all about."</p> - -<p class="indent">As soon as he stopped, she sprang nimbly -from the phaeton among half-a-dozen flushed -and excited boys who had stones in their hands. -Up in the tall trees above them were dozens of -crows, which were cawing in a loud and distressed -manner, and flying restlessly from branch -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page42" id="page42"></a>[pg 42]</span> -to branch. A stone thrown by some boy with -too true an aim had brought a fine young crow -to the ground.</p> - -<p class="indent">"Ha—I've got him. Thought I'd bring -him down!" yelled a lad, triumphantly. "Now -give it to him, boys."</p> - -<p class="indent">The stones flew thick and fast at the poor -crow. My grandmother screamed and waved -her hands, but the boys would not listen to her -until she rushed to the phaeton, seized the -whip, and began smartly slashing those bad -boys about the legs.</p> - -<p class="indent">"Hi—stop that—you hurt! Here, some -of you fellows take the whip from her!" cried -the boys, dancing like wild Indians around my -grandmother.</p> - -<p class="indent">"Cowards!" she said; "if you must fight, -why don't you attack something your own -size?"</p> - -<p class="indent">The boys slunk away, and she picked up the -crow. One of its wings was broken, and its -body was badly bruised. She wrapped the -poor bleeding thing in our lap-robe, and told -George to drive home.</p> - -<p class="indent">"Another pet, grandmother?" I asked.</p> - -<p class="indent">"Yes, Elizabeth," she returned, "if it lives." -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page43" id="page43"></a>[pg 43]</span> -She had already eight canaries, some tame -snakes, a pair of doves, an old dog, white mice -and rats, and a tortoise.</p> - -<p class="indent">When we got home, she examined the crow's -injuries, then sponged his body with water, and -decided that his wing was so badly broken that -it would have to be amputated. I held his -head and feet while she performed the surgical -operation, and he squawked most dismally. -When it was over, she offered him bread -and milk, which he did not seem able to -eat until she pushed the food down his throat -with her slim little fingers. Then he opened -and closed his beak repeatedly, like a person -smacking his lips.</p> - -<p class="indent">"He may recover," she said, with delight; -"now, where is he to sleep? Come into the -garden, Elizabeth."</p> - -<p class="indent">Our garden was walled in. There was a -large kennel on a grass-plot under my grandmother's -bedroom window, and she stopped in -front of it.</p> - -<p class="indent">"This can be fitted up for the crow, Elizabeth."</p> - -<p class="indent">"But what about Rover?" I said. "Where -will he sleep?"</p> - -<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum"><a name="page44" id="page44"></a>[pg 44]</span> -"Down in the cellar, by the furnace," she -said. "He is getting to be rheumatic, and I -owe him a better shelter than this in his old -age. I shall have a window put in at the back, -so that the sun can shine in."</p> - -<p class="indent">For several days the crow sat in the kennel, -his wings raised,—the stump of the broken -one was left,—making him look like a person -shrugging his shoulders, and the blood thickening -and healing over his wounds. Three times -a day my grandmother dragged him out and -pushed some bread and milk down his throat; -and three times a day he kicked and struggled -and clawed at her hands. But it soon became -plain that he was recovering.</p> - -<p class="indent">One day my grandmother found him trying -to feed himself, and she was as much pleased -as a child would have been. The next day he -stepped out on the grass-plot. There he found -a fine porcelain bath, that my grandmother -had bought for him. It was full of warm -water, and he stepped into it, flapped his wing -with pleasure, and threw the water over his -body.</p> - -<p class="indent">"He is coming on!" cried my grandmother; -"he will be the joy of my life yet."</p> - -<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum"><a name="page47" id="page47"></a>[pg 47]</span> -"What about Second Cousin George?" I -asked.</p> - -<p class="indent">Second Cousin George—we had to call him -that to distinguish him from old George, the -coachman—was a relative that lived with us. -He was old, cranky, poor, and a little weak-minded, -and if it had not been for my grandmother -he would have been obliged to go to an -almshouse. He hated everything in the world -except himself,—pets especially,—and if he -had not been closely watched, I think he would -have put an end to some of the creatures that -my grandmother loved.</p> - -<div class="image-center" style="max-width: 485px;"> -<a name="i_045" id="i_045"></a> -<img class="border" src="images/i_045.jpg" width="485" height="700" alt="" /> -<div class="caption"> -<p class="center">"I SAW SECOND COUSIN GEORGE FOLLOWING HIM."</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="indent">One day after the crow was able to walk -about the garden, I saw Second Cousin George -following him. I could not help laughing, for -they were so much alike. They both were fat -and short, and dressed in black. Both put -their feet down in an awkward manner, carried -their heads on one side, and held themselves -back as they walked. They had about an equal -amount of sense.</p> - -<p class="indent">In some respects, though, the crow was a -little ahead of Second Cousin George, and in -some respects he was not, for on this occasion -Second Cousin George was making a kind of -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page48" id="page48"></a>[pg 48]</span> -death-noose for him, and the crow walked -quietly behind the currant-bushes, never suspecting -it. I ran for grandmother, and she -slipped quickly out into the garden.</p> - -<p class="indent">"Second Cousin George, what are you doing?" -she said, quietly.</p> - -<p class="indent">He always looked up at the sky when he -didn't know what to say, and as she spoke, he -eyed very earnestly some white clouds that -were floating overhead, and said never a -word.</p> - -<p class="indent">"Were you playing with this cord?" said -grandmother, taking it from him. "What a -fine loop you have in it!" She threw it dexterously -over his head. "Oh, I have caught -you!" she said, with a little laugh, and began -pulling on the string.</p> - -<p class="indent">Second Cousin George still stood with his -face turned up to the sky, his cheeks growing -redder and redder.</p> - -<p class="indent">"Why, I am choking you!" said grandmother, -before she had really hurt him; "do -let me unfasten it." Then she took the string -off his neck and put it in her pocket. "Crows -can feel pain just as men do, Second Cousin -George," she said, and walked away.</p> - -<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum"><a name="page49" id="page49"></a>[pg 49]</span> -Second Cousin George never molested the -crow again.</p> - -<p class="indent">After a few weeks the crow became very -tame, and took possession of the garden. He -dug worms from our choicest flower-beds, nipped -off the tops of growing plants, and did them -far more damage than Rover the dog. But my -grandmother would not have him checked in -anything.</p> - -<p class="indent">"Poor creature!" she said, sympathetically, -"he can never fly again; let him get what -pleasure he can out of life."</p> - -<p class="indent">I was often sorry for him when the pigeons -passed overhead. He would flap his one long, -beautiful wing, and his other poor stump of a -thing, and try to raise himself from the ground, -crying, longingly, "Caw! Caw!"</p> - -<p class="indent">Not being able to fly, he would go quite over -the garden in a series of long hops,—that is, -after he learned to guide himself. At first -when he spread his wings to help his jumps, -the big wing would swing him around so that -his tail would be where he had expected to find -his head.</p> - -<p class="indent">Many a time have I stood laughing at his -awkward attempts to get across the garden to -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page50" id="page50"></a>[pg 50]</span> -grandmother, when she went out with some -bits of raw meat for him. She was his favourite, -the only one that he would allow to come -near him or to stroke his head.</p> - -<p class="indent">He cawed with pleasure whenever he saw -her at any of the windows, and she was the -only one that he would answer at all times. -I often vainly called to him, "Hallo, Jim Crow,—hallo!" -but the instant grandmother said, -"Good Jim Crow—good Jim!" he screamed -in recognition.</p> - -<div class="image-center"> -<a name="i_050" id="i_050"></a> -<img src="images/i_050.jpg" width="600" height="254" alt="" /> -</div> - -<p class="indent">He had many skirmishes with the dog over -bones. Rover was old and partly blind, and -whenever Jim saw him with a bone he went up -softly behind him and nipped his tail. As -Rover always turned and snapped at him, Jim -would seize the bone and run away with it, and -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page51" id="page51"></a>[pg 51]</span> -Rover would go nosing blindly about the garden -trying to find him. They were very good -friends, however, apart from the bones, and -Rover often did good service in guarding the -crow.</p> - -<div class="image-center"> -<a name="i_051" id="i_051"></a> -<img src="images/i_051.jpg" width="565" height="700" alt="" /> -</div> - -<p class="indent">The cats in the neighbourhood -of course learned -that there was an injured -bird in our garden, and I -have seen as many as six -at a time sitting on the top -of the wall looking down at -him. The instant Jim saw -one he would give a peculiar -cry of alarm that he kept for -the cats alone. Rover -knew this cry, and springing -up would rush toward -the wall, barking angrily, -and frightening the cats -away, though he never -could have seen them -well enough -to catch them.</p> - -<p class="indent">Jim detested not cats -alone, but every strange -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page52" id="page52"></a>[pg 52]</span> -face, every strange noise, and every strange -creature,—boys most of all. If one of them -came into the garden he would run to his -kennel in a great fright. Now this dislike of -Jim's for strange noises saved some of my -grandmother's property, and also two people -who might otherwise have gone completely to -the bad.</p> - -<p class="indent">About midnight, one dark November night, -my grandmother and I were sleeping quietly,—she -in her big bed, and I in my little one -beside her. The room was a very large one, -and our beds were opposite a French window, -which stood partly open, for my grandmother -liked to have plenty of fresh air at night. Under -this window was Jim's kennel.</p> - -<p class="indent">I was having a very pleasant dream, when -in the midst of it I heard a loud, "Caw! Caw!" -I woke, and found that my grandmother was -turning over sleepily in bed.</p> - -<p class="indent">"That's the crow's cat call," she murmured; -"but cats could never get into that kennel."</p> - -<p class="indent">"Let me get up and see," I said.</p> - -<p class="indent">"No, child," she replied. Then she reached -out her hand, scratched a match, and lighted the -big lamp that stood on the table by her bed.</p> - -<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum"><a name="page53" id="page53"></a>[pg 53]</span> -I winked my eyes,—the room was almost as -bright as day, and there, half-way through the -window, was George, our old coachman. His -head was in the room; his feet must have been -resting on the kennel, his expression was confused, -and he did not seem to know whether -to retreat or advance.</p> - -<p class="indent">"Come in, George," said my grandmother, -gravely.</p> - -<p class="indent">He finished crawling through the window, -and stood looking dejectedly down at his stocking -feet.</p> - -<p class="indent">"What does this mean, George?" said my -grandmother, ironically. "Are you having -nightmare, and did you think we might wish -to go for a drive?"</p> - -<p class="indent">Old George never liked to be laughed at. -He drew himself up. "I'm a burglar, missus," -he said, with dignity.</p> - -<p class="indent">My grandmother's bright, black eyes twinkled -under the lace frills of her nightcap. "Oho, -are you indeed? Then you belong to a dangerous -class,—one to which actions speak louder -than words," she said, calmly; and putting one -hand under her pillow, she drew out something -that I had never known she kept there.</p> - -<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum"><a name="page54" id="page54"></a>[pg 54]</span> -I thought at the time it was a tiny, shining -revolver, but it really was a bit of polished water-pipe -with a faucet attached; for my grandmother -did not approve of the use of firearms.</p> - -<div class="image-center" style="max-width: 435px;"> -<a name="i_055" id="i_055"></a> -<img class="border" src="images/i_055.jpg" width="435" height="700" alt="" /> -<div class="caption"> -<p class="center">"'I AIN'T FIT TO DIE,' CRIED OLD GEORGE."</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="indent">"Oh, missus, don't shoot—don't shoot! I -ain't fit to die," cried old George, dropping on -his knees.</p> - -<p class="indent">"I quite agree with you," she said, coolly, -laying down her pretended revolver, "and I am -glad you have some rag of a conscience left. -Now tell me who put you up to this. Some -woman, I'll warrant you!"</p> - -<p class="indent">"Yes, missus, it was," he said, shamefacedly, -"'twas Polly Jones,—she that you discharged -for impudence. She said that she'd get even -with you, and if I'd take your watch and chain -and diamond ring, and some of your silver, that -we'd go to Boston, and she'd—she'd—"</p> - -<p class="indent">"Well," said grandmother, tranquilly, "she -would do what?"</p> - -<p class="indent">"She said she'd marry me," sheepishly whispered -the old man, hanging his head.</p> - -<p class="indent">"Marry you indeed, old simpleton!" said my -grandmother, dryly. "She'd get you to Boston, -fleece you well, and that's the last you'd see of -her. Where is Miss Polly?"</p> - -<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum"><a name="page57" id="page57"></a>[pg 57]</span> -"In—in the stable," whimpered the old -man.</p> - -<p class="indent">"H'm," said grandmother, "waiting for the -plunder, eh? Well, make haste. My purse is -in the upper drawer, my watch you see before -you; here is my diamond ring, and my spoons -you have in your pocket."</p> - -<p class="indent">Old George began to cry, and counted every -spoon he had in his pocket out on the bureau -before him, saying one, two, three, four, and so -on, through his tears.</p> - -<p class="indent">"Stop!" said my grandmother. "Put them -back."</p> - -<p class="indent">The old man looked at her in astonishment. -She made him return every spoon to his pocket. -Then she ordered him to hang the watch round -his neck, put the ring on his finger, and the -purse in his pocket.</p> - -<p class="indent">"Take them out to the stable," she said, -sternly; "sit and look at them for the rest of -the night. If you want to keep them by eight -o'clock in the morning, do so,—if not, bring -them to me. And as for Miss Polly, send her -home the instant you set foot outside there, and -tell her from me that if she doesn't come to see -me to-morrow afternoon she may expect to have -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page58" id="page58"></a>[pg 58]</span> -the town's officers after her as an accomplice in -a burglary. Now be off, or that crow will alarm -the household. Not by the door, old George, -that's the way honest people go out. Oh, -George, George, that a carrion crow should -be more faithful to me than you!"</p> - -<p class="indent">My grandmother lay for some time wide-awake, -and I could hear the bed shaking with -her suppressed laughter. Then she would sigh, -and murmur, "Poor, deluded creatures!"</p> - -<p class="indent">Finally she dropped off to sleep, but I lay -awake for the rest of the night, thinking over -what had taken place, and wondering whether -Polly Jones would obey my grandmother.</p> - -<p class="indent">I was with her the next day when Polly was -announced. Grandmother had been having -callers, and was sitting in the drawing-room -looking very quaint and pretty in her black -velvet dress and tiny lace cap.</p> - -<p class="indent">Polly, a bouncing country-girl, came in hanging -her head. Grandmother sat up very straight -on the sofa and asked, "Would you like to go -to the penitentiary, Polly Jones?"</p> - -<p class="indent">"Oh, no, ma'am!" gasped Polly.</p> - -<p class="indent">"Would you like to come and live with me -for awhile?" said my grandmother.</p> - -<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum"><a name="page59" id="page59"></a>[pg 59]</span> -Now Polly did not want to do this, but she -knew that she must fall in with my grandmother's -plans; so she hung her head a little -lower and whispered, "Yes, ma'am."</p> - -<p class="indent">"Very well, then," my grandmother said, "go -and get your things."</p> - -<p class="indent">The next day my grandmother called to her -the cook, the housemaid, and the small boy that -ran errands.</p> - -<p class="indent">"You have all worked faithfully," she said, -"and I am going to give you a holiday. Here -is some money for you, and do not let me see -you again for a month. Polly Jones is going to -stay with me."</p> - -<p class="indent">Polly stayed with us, and worked hard for a -month.</p> - -<p class="indent">"You are a wicked girl," said my grandmother -to her, "and you want discipline. You -have been idle, and idleness is the cause of half -the mischief in the world. But I will cure you."</p> - -<p class="indent">Polly took her lesson very meekly, and when -the other maids came home, grandmother took -her on a trip to Boston. There she got a -policeman to take them about and show them -how some of the wicked people of the city -lived. Among other places visited was a prison, -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page60" id="page60"></a>[pg 60]</span> -and when Polly saw young women like herself -behind the bars, she broke down and begged -grandmother to take her home. And that -reformed Polly effectually.</p> - -<p class="indent">As for old George, after that one miserable -night in the stable, and his utter contrition in -the morning, he lived only for grandmother, and -died looking lovingly in her face.</p> - -<p class="indent">Jim the crow ruled the house as well as the -garden after his exploit in waking grandmother -that eventful night.</p> - -<p class="indent">All this happened some years ago. My dear -grandmother is dead now, and I live in her -house. Jim missed her terribly when she died, -but I tried so earnestly to cultivate his affections, -and to make up his loss to him, that I -think he is really getting to be fond of me.</p> - - -<p class="h2">THE END.</p> - -<hr class="hr2" /> - -<p class="h3">COSY CORNER SERIES</p> - -<blockquote> -<p class="indent">It is the intention of the publishers that this series shall -contain only the very highest and purest literature,—stories -that shall not only appeal to the children themselves, -but be appreciated by all those who feel with -them in their joys and sorrows.</p> - -<p class="indent">The numerous illustrations in each book are by well-known -artists, and each volume has a separate attractive -cover design.</p> -</blockquote> - -<p>Each, 1 vol., 16mo, cloth <span class="ralign">$0.50</span></p> - -<p class="indent"><i>By ANNIE FELLOWS JOHNSTON</i></p> - -<p class="h3">The Little Colonel. (Trade Mark.)</p> - -<p class="indent">The scene of this story is laid in Kentucky. Its -heroine is a small girl, who is known as the Little -Colonel, on account of her fancied resemblance to an -old-school Southern gentleman, whose fine estate and -old family are famous in the region. This old Colonel -proves to be the grandfather of the child.</p> - - -<p class="h3">The Giant Scissors.</p> - -<p class="indent">This is the story of Joyce and of her adventures in -France,—the wonderful house with the gate of The -Giant Scissors, Jules, her little playmate, Sister Denisa, -the cruel Brossard, and her dear Aunt Kate. Joyce is -a great friend of the Little Colonel, and in later volumes -shares with her the delightful experiences of the "House -Party" and the "Holidays."</p> - -<p class="h3">Two Little Knights of Kentucky.</p> - -<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Who Were the Little Colonel's Neighbors.</span></p> - -<p class="indent">In this volume the Little Colonel returns to us like an -old friend, but with added grace and charm. She is -not, however, the central figure of the story, that place -being taken by the "two little knights."</p> - - -<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum"><a name="page2" id="page2"></a>[pg 2]</span></p> - -<p class="h3">Cicely and Other Stories for Girls.</p> - -<p class="indent">The readers of Mrs. Johnston's charming juveniles -will be glad to learn of the issue of this volume for -young people.</p> - - -<p class="h3">Aunt 'Liza's Hero and Other Stories.</p> - -<p class="indent">A collection of six bright little stories, which will -appeal to all boys and most girls.</p> - - -<p class="h3">Big Brother.</p> - -<p class="indent">A story of two boys. The devotion and care of -Steven, himself a small boy, for his baby brother, is the -theme of the simple tale.</p> - - -<p class="h3">Ole Mammy's Torment.</p> - -<p class="indent">"Ole Mammy's Torment" has been fitly called "a -classic of Southern life." It relates the haps and mishaps -of a small negro lad, and tells how he was led by -love and kindness to a knowledge of the right.</p> - -<p class="h3">The Story of Dago.</p> - -<p class="indent">In this story Mrs. Johnston relates the story of Dago, -a pet monkey, owned jointly by two brothers. Dago -tells his own story, and the account of his haps and mishaps -is both interesting and amusing.</p> - -<p class="h3">The Quilt That Jack Built.</p> - -<p class="indent">A pleasant little story of a boy's labor of love, and -how it changed the course of his life many years after -it was accomplished.</p> - -<p class="h3">Flip's Islands of Providence.</p> - -<p class="indent">A story of a boy's life battle, his early defeat, and his -final triumph, well worth the reading.</p> - - -<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum"><a name="page3" id="page3"></a>[pg 3]</span> -<i>By EDITH ROBINSON</i></p> - - -<p class="h3">A Little Puritan's First Christmas.</p> - -<p class="indent">A story of Colonial times in Boston, telling how -Christmas was invented by Betty Sewall, a typical child -of the Puritans, aided by her brother Sam.</p> - - -<p class="h3">A Little Daughter of Liberty.</p> - -<p class="indent">The author's motive for this story is well indicated by -a quotation from her introduction, as follows:</p> - -<p class="indent">"One ride is memorable in the early history of the -American Revolution, the well-known ride of Paul -Revere. Equally deserving of commendation is another -ride,—the ride of Anthony Severn,—which was no less -historic in its action or memorable in its consequences."</p> - -<p class="h3">A Loyal Little Maid.</p> - -<p class="indent">A delightful and interesting story of Revolutionary -days, in which the child heroine, Betsey Schuyler, -renders important services to George Washington.</p> - - -<p class="h3">A Little Puritan Rebel.</p> - -<p class="indent">This is an historical tale of a real girl, during the -time when the gallant Sir Harry Vane was governor of -Massachusetts.</p> - - -<p class="h3">A Little Puritan Pioneer.</p> - -<p class="indent">The scene of this story is laid in the Puritan settlement -at Charlestown. The little girl heroine adds another to -the list of favorites so well known to the young people.</p> - - -<p class="h3">A Little Puritan Bound Girl.</p> - -<p class="indent">A story of Boston in Puritan days, which is of great -interest to youthful readers.</p> - - -<p class="h3">A Little Puritan Cavalier.</p> - -<p class="indent">The story of a "Little Puritan Cavalier" who tried -with all his boyish enthusiasm to emulate the spirit and -ideals of the dead Crusaders.</p> - - -<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum"><a name="page4" id="page4"></a>[pg 4]</span></p> - -<p class="center"><i>By MISS MULOCK</i></p> - - -<p class="h3">The Little Lame Prince.</p> - -<p class="indent">A delightful story of a little boy who has many adventures -by means of the magic gifts of his fairy godmother.</p> - - -<p class="h3">Adventures of a Brownie.</p> - -<p class="indent">The story of a household elf who torments the cook -and gardener, but is a constant joy and delight to the -children who love and trust him.</p> - - -<p class="h3">His Little Mother.</p> - -<p class="indent">Miss Mulock's short stories for children are a constant -source of delight to them, and "His Little Mother," in -this new and attractive dress, will be welcomed by hosts -of youthful readers.</p> - - -<p class="h3">Little Sunshine's Holiday.</p> - -<p class="indent">An attractive story of a summer outing. "Little Sunshine" -is another of those beautiful child-characters for -which Miss Mulock is so justly famous.</p> - - -<p class="center"><i>By JULIANA HORATIA EWING</i></p> - - -<p class="h3">Jackanapes.</p> - -<p class="indent">A new edition, with new illustrations, of this exquisite -and touching story, dear alike to young and old.</p> - - -<p class="h3">Story of a Short Life.</p> - -<p class="indent">This beautiful and pathetic story will never grow old. -It is a part of the world's literature, and will never die.</p> - - -<p class="h3">A Great Emergency.</p> - -<p class="indent">How a family of children prepared for a great emergency, -and how they acted when the emergency came.</p> - -<hr class="hr2" /> - -<div class="image-center"> -<img class="border" src="images/i_backcover.jpg" width="487" height="700" alt="" /> -</div> - -<hr class="hr2" /> - -<div class="tnote"> -<h2>Transcriber Notes:</h2> - -<p class="indent">Throughout the dialogues, there were words used to mimic accents of -the speakers. Those words were retained as-is.</p> - -<p class="indent">The illustrations have been moved so that they do not break up -paragraphs and so that they are next to the text they illustrate.</p> - -<p class="indent">Errors in punctuations and inconsistent hyphenation were not corrected -unless otherwise noted.</p> - -</div> - - - - - - - -<pre> - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of For His Country and Grandmother and -the Crow, by Marshall Saunders - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FOR HIS COUNTRY, GRANDMOTHER AND CROW *** - -***** This file should be named 52608-h.htm or 52608-h.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/5/2/6/0/52608/ - -Produced by Larry B. 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