NEW PROSPECTS FOR MOSE.
ONE delightful afternoon in the time usually known as “Indian summer,”
Hesper thought she would take simple Johnny out for a walk. They went
up over the hills, and away down past Capt. Clark’s corn-field, to the
great barn beyond, where Fred and Charlie were still at work. When they
saw Johnny with her, they begged her to let him stay until they came
home at night, so she left him and went away into the woods beyond the
Rolling Mill. She walked along the borders of the stream, gathering
here and there the bright colored autumn leaves, which seemed to be
more brilliant and beautiful than ever. As she climbed up to the top of
an old rock, which jutted out into the pathway, to gather a few leaves
of a bright scarlet color, she heard the sound of voices, and looking
down upon the other side, saw Capt. Clark and Mose talking together.
They observed her at the same moment, and called her to come down.
Capt. Clark rose up quickly, and put up his strong arm to help her.
“Come, Hesper,” said he, “you are certainly a good little fairy, for
you are always near when most wanted. I am laying a plan to get your
brother away from you, and I know when you come to hear it, you will
have too much good sense to say no.”
She sat down by Mose and looked him in the face. He seemed both glad
and sorry. His old geography was open in his hand.
“Hesper,” said he, “you told me the Lord would help me, and now your
words are about to prove true.”
“Why!” she exclaimed, “are you really going to sea?”
He smiled and looked towards Capt. Clark.
“Well,” said the Captain, “he thinks he shall, if Hesper is willing.”
“If I am willing!”
“Yes, Mose says that if every one else gives their consent, and you are
unhappy about it, he will not go.”
“Why Mose!” said Hesper, “I thought you knew me better.”
“You never think of yourself,” said Mose, “but when I think of father’s
poor health and mother’s sickness, and the children to take care of
through this long winter, I feel as though I ought not to go, for
then all the burden and care will rest upon you, and though you are a
patient little thing you are not able to bear it.”
“Never mind that, Mose, if you have a good chance, don’t lose it. Leave
all the rest with the Lord.”
Capt. Clark turned his face towards the stream as she said this. If
any one had been watching him they would have seen him brush away a
tear. He was a very benevolent man, and he always said, that there was
something in the love which this brother and sister bore one another,
that touched his heart.
“Hesper,” said he, “you are right. Tell him to go--it will be both for
his health and interest, and you can safely trust to the Lord for the
rest. I can also assure you, that as far as I am concerned, you have
one friend who will never see you suffer. Now I will leave you to talk
the subject over together.” And he walked away down the path, towards
the mill.
“Well,” said Mose, “now for my story. Capt. Clark has talked with
me very often of late. He said he thought I was working too hard,
and asked me if there was anything else I would rather do. I did not
tell him for some time, because I had tried to forget it myself and
be patient; but to-day he found me poring over my old geography,
and then he asked me how I would like to visit foreign countries.
Before I thought, I told him all, and he said I should go to sea if I
wished--that his new ship would be ready in the course of a few weeks,
and if I decided to go, he would ensure me an easy place and good
wages. O Hesper! it made my heart leap right up within me; but then I
remembered I had not a cent to fit myself out with, and therefore I
could not answer him.”
“What is the matter, Mose?” said he, “I should think you would be right
glad of such a chance.”
“I was ashamed to let him know how poor we were, but he questioned me
so closely, and when he found out the cause of my silence, he told me
he would let me have all I needed and right welcome. Now, Hesper, what
shall I do?”
“Go!” said she, “go, Mose.” The tears stood in her eyes and her voice
trembled as she spoke. “We shall miss you very much, and I, most of
all, Mose, for you and I know each other’s hearts and our thoughts are
very nearly the same, so it will be hard parting, but if it wasn’t the
best thing for both of us, the Lord wouldn’t have so ordered it.”
“It will be a long time that I shall be away, Hesper, and I am afraid
that when I mention it to father, he will set his foot right down, and
shake his head, and there will be an end of it.”
“O dear,” said Hesper, “I had forgotten him. It will be just as he
takes a notion. How I wish he could see things as we do. But he must
always look on the dark side. How shall we manage to tell him, Mose?”
They were silent for a few moments.
“Hesper,” said Mose at last, “the more I think about it, the more
certain am I that father will not let me go. Every cent I have earned,
has gone to support the family, and now, while his foot is still so
lame, I don’t see how he can do without me. We had best give it up
where it is, and say nothing more about it.”
“No,” said Hesper. “Don’t give it up, Mose. Let’s try at any rate. I
will send the children to bed early, and then, while mother is asleep,
you can ask him.”
“Well,” said Mose, “I don’t think it will be of much use, but I wont
have it said that I gave up without trying. I must go back to the mill
now. Mr. Brown gave me leave of an hour’s absence, while they were
repairing the machinery, so I came here to rest me.”
That night, when all was quiet, Hesper took her work and sat down by
the fire, while Mose bent studiously over his old geography. Their
father sat by the table writing as usual, and their mother was asleep.
Not a word was spoken for a long time. At last the clock struck eight
and Mose looked up as if a thought had suddenly occurred to him.
“Father,” said he, “if I could get a first rate chance to go to sea,
should you be willing?”
“What!” said his father, dropping his pen and looking him full in the
face.
Mose repeated his question.
“Do you know of any such chance?” asked his father.
“Yes sir.” And then Mose told his whole conversation with Capt. Clark.
He waited for his father to reply, but he did not. Mr. Greyson silently
reached up for his hat, took his cane and went out. Hesper was so
disappointed she could not speak. Mose thrust his old geography into
his pocket with a vexed and angry movement.
“There!” said he, “I might have known it would be so! How foolish I was
ever to have hoped for anything better! Now all I have to do is to go
back to the mill again, and work like a slave till it kills me, which
will not take long, and the sooner I die the better.”
He spoke bitterly, for he was sadly disappointed.
“Mose! Mose!” said a gentle voice. He turned and saw that his mother
had risen from her pillow, and was resting upon one arm. The striking
of the clock awoke her, and she had heard all. Just then, as the light
shone upon her face, showing the smooth black hair parted on her white
forehead, and her large dark eyes in which there was such tender
sadness, she looked very beautiful. Mose went, and kneeling down beside
her bed, hid his face in her pillow. She laid her hand gently on his
head.
“Don’t be discouraged my poor boy,” said she. “The greater the trouble,
the nearer is God, and I know that He will aid you if you do not
despair.”
Her low sweet voice and gentle touch, was like oil upon the troubled
waves, and though the poor boy’s frame shook with emotions which
were hard to control, yet beneath her soothing influence, he at
length became calm. When the first bitterness of his disappointment
had passed, he raised his face, and kissing his mother’s pale cheek
with all that affection which had strengthened and deepened from his
childhood, he went back to his reading. It was nearly an hour before
their father returned. Mose and Hesper were still sitting by the fire.
He did not tell them that he had seen Capt. Clark, but he had been with
him all the time.
“Hesper,” said he abruptly, “are you willing that Mose should go to
sea?”
“Yes sir;” she replied meekly and without hesitation.
“Do you consider, at the same time,” he asked, “that the work will be
harder and heavier for you--that there will be more care, and one the
less to labor?”
“Yes sir; but I am willing to do and bear any thing if he can only go,
for it will certainly kill him if he works in the mill much longer.”
“But,” he continued, “supposing that your mother should be
worse--perhaps die, and I should be taken sick, what would become of us
then?”
Hesper’s eyes filled with tears and her lips quivered--“I don’t know
sir,” said she, “but I think the Lord would care for us.”
“Poor, simple child!” said her father--“there are a great many people
left to the care of the Lord, who perish miserably. Think of the
fathers, and mothers, and little children, who die for want of bread,
and of the wretched beings in our great cities, with scarce a mouthful
of food and no shelter from the heat of summer, or the piercing cold of
winter. Does the Lord care for them?”
Hesper was silent a few moments, and then a great thought stirred her
heart, sending the blood to her cheeks, and the brightness to her eyes.
“I don’t know sir,” said she, “why such dreadful things happen, but I
do know that when I have said the Lord would help me, and have given
all up to Him that He always has. I would not like to starve, but if I
should, I would try to be patient, for God alone knows what is best.”
Her father looked at her in astonishment. He did not speak, but he
leaned his face upon his hands. He thought of the time when he was a
little child and went with his father to the church. Heaven seemed very
near him then, and God both good and great. Hesper’s simple words had
touched his better feelings. He longed to be a child once more, and
feel that confidence in the heavenly Father’s love, which he had once
known. When he spoke again his manner was greatly changed.
“Mose,” said he, “if you want to go to sea, I am perfectly willing. You
have a first rate chance, and ought to improve it.”