DICK'S VISIT TO MAINE.
BUT, going back a few months, during the winter vacation at the
Academy, Dick persuaded his parents to allow him to go to Maine for the
purchase of a cow.
He was now nearly fourteen years of ages was tall and stout; but his
father needed much arguing, both from Dick and his mother, before he
gave his consent.
"What do you know about the selection of a good cow?" the minister
asked.
"I have read the Agricultural reports, father, and the Farmers'
journals, about the good points in a milker. I can learn the rest."
"But you will have to carry the money about you; what if you should be
robbed?"
"I'll venture that," answered Dick, his eyes twinkling. "I shall take
your oldest carpet-bag, with a few clothes in it; I shall carry my
money in that. When I go into the boat, I shall throw it under the
seat. No one will imagine it contains any thing of value or I should
take better care of it."
"I consent," said his father laughing; "but it's a mystery to me how
you have learned so much of the world."
It was near the close of a cold winter's day, that Richard left the
cars at Newark, and started on foot for the back country where he had
heard cows were very cheap. He had his half-filled carpet-bag in his
hand and was trudging through the snow in the middle of the street,
feeling, I will not deny it, rather homesick. He was only a boy after
all, fondly nurtured in a sweet home. He was alone in a strange land.
He knew not where he should find a place to sleep. One thing Dick
did know. He was sure that he had not gone beyond the notice of his
heavenly Father.
"I can't be lost," he said half aloud, "while He sees me, and He knows
that I need help," and up his heart flew on wings of faith and love to
the throne above the skies.
"I want to do what is right," he said. "Dear Lord, lead me in the way,
and help me in my business, so I can return home in safety."
His heart felt lighter after this, and he trudged on sometimes through
drifts over the half broken road, for near a mile. It was growing quite
dusky, and still no house in sight.
"I wont be afraid," said Dick to himself. "God knows just where I am,
and how much I want some supper." To keep up his spirits he began to
sing:
"The Lord my Shepherd is."
Presently he heard the sound of sleigh bells, coming swiftly toward
him. He turned in the direction, and stood still. Soon he saw a man
with a heavy beard, alone in a pung. His heart beat wildly.
"Shall I speak? He may be a robber."
The man had checked his horse and was staring hard at him.
"Wont you ride, stranger?" asked a friendly voice.
"Thank you, sir, I will."
"I reckon you aren't from these parts," said the man after a more
careful survey of his companion.
"No, sir, I'm from Massachusetts. I'm a stranger here. I came to buy a
cow for my father, who is a clergyman. Do you know any for sale about
here?"
"Well," said the man laughing, "I reckon any o' my neighbors'd sell if
they could get their price. But to-morrow'll be time enough to talk
about it. We're most home now. Wife'll have supper ready."
Tears gushed to Dick's eyes, though they were not often seen there. How
kindly had his heavenly Father provided for him. He almost wished to
hug the kind man. One mile more was soon passed; but not before Dick
had told much of his personal history and of his own wishes for the
future, to all of which the man listened with intense interest.
They drove at last up to a one story white house large on the ground
floor and chambers in the attic. The curtains were drawn up, and a
bright wood fire blazing inside. How pleasant it all looked to poor
Dick. At the sound of the bells a woman's face appeared at the windows.
"Walk right in, Mr.—" he hesitated.
"My name is Richard Stuart."
"Mr. Stuart, wife," said the man, "I'll be in directly."
"Let me help you," urged Richard. "I'm used to that sort of work."
"No, not to-night. Walk right up to the fire, and make yourself at
home."
"Where did you happen to meet Mr. Brown?" asked the wife after a
cordial grasp of welcome to the stranger.
"About two miles back. He was very kind to bring me home. I didn't know
the way to a tavern."
"'Twouldn't have been like Thomas Brown to leave a stranger by the
road side," she said laughing. Then she busied herself pouring a pan
of steaming hot biscuit upon a plate, and setting the yellow earthen
teapot on the table. Mr. Brown and a young man, his son, came in just
as she had completed the arrangements, and after a vigorous washing
said, "Draw up now;" and he took his seat at the table.
They sat quiet for a minute looking at Dick, who blushed furiously.
At last Mr. Brown said, "I didn't know but you'd say grace. I reckon
you're a professor."
Richard instantly folded his hands and asked God's blessing on the food
before them.
Every one then took hold in earnest of the business of eating; and Dick
perceiving from a dish being pushed toward him that he was expected
to help himself, did so. Biscuit and butter and maple molasses,
gingerbread and sugar cookies, blackberry preserve and pumpkin pie, and
crullers, made a most tempting repast to the hungry traveller.
When they rose from the table the men tipped their chairs back and
began to ask questions of Dick, while Mrs. Brown cleared the table, and
washed the dishes, occasionally adding a word. In an hour or two the
boy had given his new friends a brief history of his life at home, and
the occasion of his journey.
Soon after seven a neighbor came in having driven his horse and sleigh
into the barn floor. Dick's eyes twinkled at the introduction he
received.
"Mr. Manly, Mr. Stuart; Mr. Stuart's a minister's son, from
Massachusetts come to buy a cow. He's a professor,—attends school in
New Hampshire,—going to stay with us a spell."
"You must stop with me part of the time," urged Mr. Manly after a
searching gaze in Richard's face.
At home and among his mates Dick was always called good company; but
never had his conversational powers been appreciated and admired as
this evening.
With an occasional question and a "You don't say, now!" from one and
another, the boy went on from agricultural to educational subjects,
and back again. He told of his Rarey experience; of his declamations
at school; of his speculations in poultry; of the state of religion in
the different denominations, of the great salaries received by famous
singers in church. He stated that he sung in church himself, and after
some urging consented to end the evening by singing a hymn.
A little before nine the visitor began to grow restless, hitching his
chair back and forth, and looking at the clock. At last Mr. Brown took
the hint and said:
"Wont you stop, neighbor. Mr. Stuart'll be likely to conduct worship, I
reckon. We'll be glad to have you join us."
"I'll stay then," answered Mr. Manly, letting his chair rest on the
floor.
Richard's heart beat so fast that he could scarcely breathe. "How can I
pray before these strangers?" he asked himself. But without one doubt
that a minister's son, who could discuss so many subjects with perfect
ease would wish to conduct the service, Mr. Brown asked his wife to
bring the Bible, and pushed the candle nearer the youth.
"I'll try at any rate," was Dick's resolve. "I wont deny my Lord."
He selected the ninety-first psalm, but before he read sung the hymn
commencing:
"Majestic sweetness sits enthroned
Upon the Saviour's brow."
To this Mr. Manly beat time loudly with his foot on the floor.
Richard's voice trembled as he began:
"O God, we are strangers who have met here; but thou knowest our
hearts, and whether we love thee."
"Amen!" shouted Mr. Manly.
This response so disconcerted the poor boy, unused to such
interruptions, that, he was obliged to begin his prayer again. He had
repeated his first words when the visitor called out in a more earnest
tone—
"Hallelujah!"
The perspiration started in groat drops all over Richard's face. He
paused a minute. There was no help for it, he must begin again. This
time he went on a little farther, when a loud shout—
"Praise the Lord!" set to flight every proper thought. He said, "amen,"
and arose from his knees, in a singular state of mind, between laughing
and crying.
The limits of my true history of Richard Stuart, only allow me to add
in brief, that having accomplished the object of his journey in a most
satisfactory manner; and having made friends for life of good Mr. and
Mrs. Brown, he returned home, and soon went back to school where he
remained till the end of his year.
Of his subsequent career, and his success in professional life,
perhaps I shall speak in another volume. I can only say here, that the
principles of his childhood, his love to the Saviour, his trust in the
dealings of Providence, grew stronger as he advanced in years; while
the same habits of industry and thrift, the sweetness and mirthfulness
which had made him a favorite, gained for him warm and enduring
friends, when he most needed them.