About seventy years ago, a physician with a young family springing up
about him, consulting his wife, as all good husbands find it prudent
to do, bought a large farm in one of our New England States, where
every farmer truly earns his living by the sweat of his brow. Both
felt that nowhere could their children be trained to industry and
frugality so thoroughly as on a good farm.
The doctor was obliged to "run in debt" for this property, and he gave
a mortgage on the place. The payments were to be made quarterly, and
promptly, or the whole would be forfeited and revert to the original
owner. In those days physicians were not likely to become
millionaires, and though Dr. Mason's practice was large, the pay was
small, and not always sure. He therefore looked to the farm for the
means to release him from the bondage of debt; and the children, even
to the youngest, were taught to labor for, and look forward eagerly
to, the time "when we have paid for the farm!"
The creditor was the doctor's father-in-law, through his first wife,
and while the good old gentleman lived, if by any mishap or overpress
of business the quarterly payment had been delayed, it would have been
kindly excused. But for the ten or fifteen years that he lived after
the sale of the farm, there had not been one delay in payment, though
now and then there would come a time when it was very hard to secure
the needed sum in time, for even in the olden days "hard times" were
often experienced, to the terror of our hard-working New England
farmers. But little by little, the heavy debt was diminishing, and the
doctor's family were looking forward hopefully to the year of jubilee,
when they could sit under their own vine and fig-tree with none to
molest and make them afraid.
At this period the father-in-law died. He had but two children,
--daughters. The younger, the doctor's wife, died childless. The
elder married a hard, close, scheming man who lost no opportunity of
remarking that he would, no doubt, soon come in possession of Dr.
Mason's farm, as the latter, with his large family, must fail by and
by.
The financial troubles which the war of 1812 had caused, as all wars
are sure to do, were not yet adjusted. Money was scarce, and payments
very difficult. Ten children now filled the old house with merriment
and gladness; but they were to be clothed and educated.
Let us see how successfully they had been taught to make their high
spirits and resolute wills cheerful auxiliaries in lifting the burden,
which, since their grandfather's death, was pressing upon their
parents.
At the time of which we write, among other crops, rye was extensively
raised. It was used for food among the farmers quite as much as wheat,
and was also valuable for other purposes. When full-grown, but still
in the milk, large quantities were cut to be used for "braiding." The
heads were used for "fodder;" the stalks, after being soaked in strong
hot soap-suds, were spread on the grass for the sun to whiten. When
sufficiently bleached and ready for use, they were cut at each joint,
and the husk stripped off, and the straw thus prepared was then tied
in pound bundles for sale.
Bonnets, then, meant something more than a small bit of silk or velvet
with a flower or feather attached, and the "straw braid" for making
them was in great demand. Boys and girls were alike taught to braid,
and the long winter evenings were not spent idly. Dr. Mason raised
large crops of rye, and each child, almost as soon as he could walk,
was taught to braid, and was soon able to do much by it toward
clothing himself. At six years of age a dollar a week was easily
earned; at eight, three dollars; and in something of that proportion
up to the eldest.
Does any one think that such a life, with such an object in view, was
hard or cruel? Never was there a greater mistake. It was of great
value to those young spirits. They had something real, that they could
understand, to labor for. There was life and courage and true heroism
in it. It was an education--with here and there, to be sure, some
rough places to pass over--which was worth more to them than all the
money millionaires bequeath their sons and daughters; an education
which prepared them in after-life to be courageous and self-helpful.
It is this kind of training that has made New England's sons and
daughters strong and self-reliant, and the lack of it which makes
these hard times such a horror that we hear of many who seek death by
their own hands as preferable to the struggle for better times.
In the long winter evenings, when the labor of the day was over, the
children home from school, and the "chores" all finished, the candles
were lighted and the evening work began. The mother in her corner was
busy making and mending for her large family. The doctor, if not with
the sick, read and studied opposite her. The children gathered around
the long table in the middle of the room, where lay the school-books
and straw previously prepared for braiding, while the old fireplace,
heaped with blazing logs of hickory, oak, and fragrant birch, made the
room warm and cheerful. Here, with their books before them and
fastened open to the next day's lessons, the children with nimble
fingers plaited the straw and studied at the same time. For children
taught to be industrious, usually carry into the schoolroom the
principles thus developed, and are ambitious to keep as near the head
of the class as possible.
Such a family as this was well equipped to meet and conquer adversity.
For several days Dr. Mason had been unusually grave and silent. All
noticed it, but no remarks were made until evening, when he came to
supper, so unmistakably worried and despondent that his wife inquired
if he were not well.
"Yes, well enough. But, Lucy, I have so far been unable to collect
money for our quarterly payment. So much is due me that I had no fears
but that enough would be promptly paid to save me any trouble."
"How much is there lacking?"
"Not quite a hundred dollars; but it might as well be thousands for
any chance I now see of getting it in season. There is now so much
sickness about, that, as you know, I have had no rest, and little time
to collect money. If not ready before midnight to-morrow, we are
ruined. I have kept it from you as long as I dared, still hoping that
those who ought to pay me would do so."
"Have you told them how very important it is that you should have the
money?"
"No; I did not wish to speak of it. Mr. H. is watching greedily for a
'slip,' and we need expect no mercy at his hands. Under our hard labor
and good care, this farm has risen greatly in value--too much so for
him to spare us an hour, if he can once get hold of it. I am about
discouraged. It is the darkest time we have seen yet. But I must be
off, and will probably be kept out all night. To think there are not
forty-eight hours between us and ruin! And my hands are so tied by
several severe cases, that I may not find one hour to make up the
little that is needed."
For a few minutes after the doctor left, the children stood silent and
sad, watching their mother. At last she said,--
"Children, we can help father through this, and save our home, if you
are willing to submit to some little self-denial. No; I should have
said to _great_ self-denial. Each of you has worked diligently to buy
new garments for winter. You need them and deserve them, and I should
be happy and proud to see you all neat and comfortable. But to help
father, are you willing to let me try to clean, mend, or make over
your old clothes, and use what you have earned to help brighten this
dark day? The braid you have on hand, and what is now due at the
store, is all your own, or to be expended for your own clothes, and if
each one of you is not _perfectly willing_, I don't wish you to give
it up."
It was a beautiful sight to see those eager faces watching their
mother, ready to answer the moment she had finished; for in the olden
time children were taught that it was disrespectful to interrupt any
one when speaking, even when, as in this case, it was difficult to
keep silent. But the reply, when given, was prompt, enthusiastic, as
she had confidently looked for it to be.
"Thanks, dear children? Now, then, hasten. First bring me all your
braid, and let us see how much it will come to."
The braid, in ten-yard rolls, was brought, and its value estimated.
"With that which is now due us at the store, we have nearly sixty
dollars! Well done, for all these little fingers! But now we must
devise a way to make up the remainder. Your father spoke last night of
a large quantity of straw, which, if cut, would bring in something. He
will be away all night. If you work well, we can cut many pounds
before midnight. Now, girls, help me wash the dishes, while your
brothers bring, before dark, the straw we can cut to-night."
By the time the candles were lighted, all was ready to begin.
The younger children were excused at their usual bedtime, but the
others worked with their mother till the tall clock in the corner
struck one. Then all retired for a few hours' rest.
Dr. Mason returned home in season for breakfast, and his wife inquired
if the eldest son could drive her over to the neighboring town to
dispose of some braid for the children. He replied that he must be
gone again nearly all day, and neither son nor team could well be
spared from important work at home. But a strange thing followed this
implied refusal. Mrs. Mason, who never allowed her plans or wishes to
interfere with her husband's, now repeated her request, and urged it
till he yielded, apparently from sheer surprise that his wife could be
so persistent.
The doctor went his usual round, and the mother and her son departed
on their mysterious errand. Their business accomplished, they returned
well satisfied and ready for supper when the father arrived.
A deeper gloom was on his face when he entered; but no word was spoken
till all were seated at the table. Then in a slightly agitated voice
his wife inquired,--
"Have you been successful in obtaining the money?"
He shook his head, but remained silent. Each young quivering face was
turned first toward him, then with earnest, questioning glance to the
mother.
"Be not discouraged, dear, even at this late hour."
"Are you wild, Lucy? There are but six hours between us and ruin. Can
you talk of hope now? I have none."
With a warning gesture to the children, she rose, stepped to her
husband's chair, and passing her arm round his neck, said, gently,--
"Yet still hope on, my husband; God will not forsake us."
He moved impatiently from under her arm; but as he did so, she dropped
a roll into his bosom and turned toward her chair.
"Lucy! Lucy! what is this? Where did you get it?"
All was wild with excitement. Each child laughing, sobbing, shouting,
but one glance from that strong but gentle mother quelled the
confusion, and she replied,--
"It is our children's offering, and is sufficient to make up the
needed sum. I persisted in going away this morning against your wish,
because I saw no escape. We cut the straw last night--many willing
hands made quick work; I sold it, and their braid added to it, with
what was already due them, completed the sum."
Those who witnessed that scene will never forget it; Dr. Mason with
his arm around his wife, and both in tears, calling her all happy
names; the children clinging about their parents, so joyful that home
was saved, and they had helped to save it.
"Put Charlie into the wagon, quick. If he fails me not, the six miles
between here and M---- will be the shortest I ever rode. I shall be
home before bedtime to thank you all. I cannot now. I hope we shall
never come so near ruin again."
And they never did. In two years the last dollar was paid, and then
Dr. Mason resolved he would never again owe any one a cent. He kept
his resolution.
It is easy enough to be pleasant
When life flows by like a song,
But the man worth while is the one who will smile
When everything goes dead wrong.