SIMPLE JOHNNY.
IT was very hard for Hesper to keep up her courage and go about her
work as usual, now that Mose was gone. Her father was more desponding
than ever, and though her mother seemed cheerful, yet it was very
evident that she had to make a great effort to be so. Every night, when
Hesper laid her head upon her pillow, she felt that she would like to
have a good long cry, but she resolutely kept back the tears, for she
knew if she once began, she would soon become so disheartened that she
could not attend to anything properly. So she remembered the last words
of Mose, and consoled herself by doing as he had told her--to pray for
him every night. These seemed to Hesper the darkest days she had ever
known. Capt. Clark still remained a true and faithful friend and this
kept her from wholly despairing. He did not often visit them, but out
of his abundance, he gave them many things, without which they would
actually have suffered. Yet even with his help, the prospect was very
discouraging, and Hesper puzzled her brains night and day, to think
of something she could do to earn a little money. Her mother needed
medicine and comfortable food, and the boys’ clothes were getting sadly
out of repair. Her father still had writing to do, but he only earned
enough by this to pay the rent. His foot troubled him constantly, for
he could not be patient till it got well, but he hobbled about on
it every day, and thus made it a great deal worse. Beside this, his
general health was very poor, and he always looked on the dark side
of everything, which made him unhappy and discontented. He said very
little, but one could easily tell by his gloomy countenance how he felt.
Late one afternoon, as Hesper was returning home with simple Johnny,
who had been spending the day with aunt Nyna, she was overtaken by Mrs.
Grimsby. The poor woman looked very tired, for her day’s work had been
hard. Under one arm she carried her old wash-gown, and on the other was
a large basket of clothes she was taking home to iron.
“O dear,” she said, “I feel as though I could not take another step!
I don’t believe there’s a slave at the South that has to work harder
than I. But then I get my pay for it, and in these hard times that is a
great comfort.”
“Yes,” said Hesper, “I would like to go out a washing myself, if I were
able.”
“You poor little thing!” said Mrs. Grimsby, in a tone of unusual
kindness--“I’m glad you can’t, for you would work yourself almost to
death. Why don’t you keep school, Hesper?”
This was a new thought, and for a moment Hesper’s heart beat quicker,
but then it occurred to her directly, that she had no room, and she
shook her head sorrowfully.
“No,” she said, “neither father or mother could bear the noise of the
children at home, and there is no other place.”
“Fie!” said Mrs. Grimsby, “that is no excuse at all, for you can have
my back kitchen just as well as not, and be right welcome, if you will
take George and Benny and keep them out of mischief. I’m scarce ever at
home, and if I was, the school would not trouble me at all. Come now,
you had best take up with my offer at once, and to-morrow when I go out
to work, I will look up some scholars for you.”
“Well,” said Hesper, without hesitation, “I will, though I hardly know
how to thank you enough for your kindness.”
“Fie!” said Mrs. Grimsby, with seeming impatience, “I only do it for my
own convenience, so you needn’t say anything more about it.”
Just then they reached home, and Mrs. Grimsby went directly into her
own room, leaving Hesper with a hopeful heart and smiling countenance.
At the beginning of the next week the school was opened. There were
eight scholars besides Fred and Charlie and the Grimsby boys. Juliana
knew very little about reading and spelling, so she improved the
opportunity, and soon was able to assist Hesper, which she did very
willingly. As for simple Johnny, he could not be persuaded to stay
in the school, so Hesper let him go out to play as he had been in
the habit of doing. He knew very well how to take care of himself,
Moreover, he had such an innocent expression of countenance, and was so
gentle and inoffensive, that every one was kind to him. At first Hesper
used to worry a great deal about him, but she soon became accustomed
to having him away. He never went far from home, and almost always
returned at the right time. They could easily tell where he had been by
the little tokens he brought back. Sometimes he would have a pinafore
full of blocks from the ship-yard--a bunch of field flowers, or a
handful of smooth white pebbles gathered on the seashore. But of late,
he had puzzled them, for he had returned several times with a most
beautiful bouquet of choice garden flowers, tastefully arranged and
tied with a string, and sometimes with his little basket full of ripe,
rosy apples and peaches.
“Who could be so good to him?” said Hesper; “it must be some lady, I
know.” But the poor child could not tell, so the matter remained a
mystery. One night he was out later than usual. The weather was now
quite cold, so that Hesper felt all the more anxious. She wrapped her
mother’s shawl about her, and went out in search of him, though she
did not feel much alarmed, for she expected every moment to meet him.
First she went to the ship-yard and along the seashore. Next to Capt.
Clark’s, where a large party of boys were husking corn--then to uncle
Nathan’s and aunt Nyna’s, but he could not be found at any of these
places. It was now almost dark. The wind was cold and chilly, and a few
light flakes of snow were falling. Hesper’s heart beat quickly, and
she ran home as fast as possible to see if he was there, but nothing
had been seen of him. Again she hastened forth, questioning the people
along the street, but they could give her no information. At length she
met a little fellow, who told her he saw Johnny not long before dark,
gathering acorns in the wood beyond the Rolling Mill. Away she flew as
fast as her feet would carry her, and was soon ranging about in the
midst of the wood. It was so dark among the trees she could not see the
way before her--- the briers laid fast hold of her--she stumbled over
the roots in her pathway, and finally lost one shoe in the low, swampy
ground, whither she had unconsciously wandered, yet still she urged her
way onward.
“Johnny! Johnny!” she called at the top of her voice, in the hope that
he might make some sound in reply. She stopped to listen, but heard
nothing save the mournful sighing of the winds among the pines, and the
falling of withered leaves around her. She seemed utterly alone and
desolate, and her heart failed her.
“O, merciful Father!” she exclaimed, “what shall I do!” and she burst
into tears. Again she struggled onward in the midst of the darkness,
till she came to the roadside. There, trembling with cold and
excitement, she knelt down beneath a spreading oak, and lifting her
hands, she cried out--
“O, Father in heaven! I pray thee to take pity on me and help me.” As
she spoke, a bright light flashed upon her face, and looking out from
the overhanging branches, she saw a man passing with a lantern.
“O, sir!” she exclaimed, as she sprang forward, “will you help me find
my brother? He is lost in these woods, and it is so dark I cannot see
one step before me.”
“Certainly! certainly!” he replied in a very friendly manner. “In these
woods did you say? and how old a child?”
“About ten years, sir. Poor Johnny, he is a simple child, yet
nevertheless he is very dear to us.”
“Indeed!” said the gentleman--“he must be the same child who has been
to my house so often of late, and to whom my Kate and Alice took such
a fancy. I will go with you by all means,” and he immediately led the
way into the wood. He held up his lantern, looking carefully about,
and calling at short intervals--but they heard no sound in reply.
Hesper never seemed so weak and faint-hearted before. She wept like a
child, and had it not been for the encouraging words of her unknown
friend, she would have despaired of ever seeing Johnny again. She soon
discovered from the gentleman’s speech, that he was the new doctor, of
whose skill and kindness she had heard so much. He was very wealthy,
and had always lived in the city till the past year, when he purchased
an elegant residence in this town. She knew from what people had said,
that he was very benevolent, and would do all he could to assist her.
After they had searched through the wood in various directions, they
went down over the other side of the hill, where there was a low,
swampy hollow, not far from aunt Nyna’s. Here the bushes and trees grew
very closely, and the long ivy vines interlaced the whole in such a
manner, that it formed an almost impenetrable thicket. As the doctor
held up his lantern and looked before him, he seemed to hesitate.
“Really,” he said, “if the poor child is here, it will be almost
impossible to find him. I think, on the whole, we had best go back and
get other assistance.”
As he spoke, Hesper felt something rub against her. She looked down,
and to her inexpressible joy, beheld Bose, standing close beside her,
wagging his tail and seeming very happy that he had met with her.
“O here, sir!” she called out to the doctor, “is this faithful old dog,
and he will find him if anybody. I would trust him sooner than I would
myself.”
“Here, Bose!” she continued, pointing to the thicket--“Johnny! Johnny!”
Bose started in the direction in which she pointed, scenting the
air keenly. Then he ran back again to Hesper, wagging his tail, and
looking up in her face wistfully, as if very desirous of doing her will
exactly, if he only knew what it was. She went with him then to the
borders of the thicket, and pointing in again, called out, “Johnny!
Johnny!” with all possible earnestness.
In sprang the dog at once, and she could hear the under-brush cracking
beneath his feet, and the branches sweeping by him as he passed. After
a few moments the doctor called again, and then, as they stopped to
listen, they seemed to hear the sound of a child crying. Directly,
out rushed Bose like a mad creature, and seizing Hesper by the frock,
pulled her after him.
“O, he has found him! he has found him!” she exclaimed, and was about
to spring at once into the thicket, when the doctor withheld her.
“Let me go first, with my lantern,” he said, “while you remain here,
for I think I can be of more service to him than you, poor child.”
He turned his steps in the direction whence the sound had proceeded,
and in a few moments, guided by Bose, found simple Johnny lying flat
on his face, moaning and weeping most piteously. The child’s hat and
little basket of acorns were upon the ground beside him, as though he
had accidentally fallen asleep there. The doctor raised him up, and
spoke to him kindly. He brushed away the long, wet ringlets from the
poor child’s face--put his hat upon his head, gave him his basket, and
then led him out to the place where Hesper was anxiously awaiting them.
The instant the poor child recognized her, he uttered a cry of joy. He
seized her by the dress, and laying his head against her, made the low
soothing sound he usually did when pleased. Hesper, unlike herself,
scarce knew what she said or did, but when she minded how damp the
child’s clothes were, and how he shivered with cold, she took off her
great warm shawl and wrapped it closely about him. As they all three
walked home together, the doctor asked her a great many questions about
herself and family.
“Well, Miss Hesper,” he said at last, as he was about to leave her, “I
am right glad that I have met with you, and shall endeavor to see you
again, very soon.” He stooped down and kissed Johnny, and as he turned
away, he dropped something into his basket, which afterwards proved to
be a bright golden eagle.