CONFUSION--HOUSEKEEPING IN A HURRY--FIRST NIGHT ON SHORE--COMPANY TO
DINNER--"BLUE EYED MARY"--ROBERT AT PRAYER-MEETING--DANGER OF DESCENDING
AN OLD WELL--RECOVERING A KNIFE DROPPED IN A WELL
It is scarcely possible, for one who has not tried it, to conceive the
utter confusion which ensues on removing, in a hurry, one’s goods and
chattels to a place too small for their accommodation. Oh! the
wilderness of boxes, baskets, bundles, heaped in disorder everywhere!
and the perfect bewilderment into which one is thrown, when attempting
the simplest act of household duty.
"Judy," said Mary to the cook, the evening that they landed, and while
the servants were hurrying to bring under shelter the packages which Dr.
Gordon was unwilling to leave exposed to the night air, "Judy, the sun
is only about an hour high. Make haste and get some tea ready for
supper. Father says you need not _cook_ anything, we can get along on
cheese and crackers."
Well, surely, it sounded like a trifle to order only a little tea. Mary
thought so, and so did Judy,--it could be got ready in a minute. But
just at that moment of unreadiness, there were some difficulties in the
way which neither cook nor housekeeper anticipated. To have tea for
supper ordinarily requires that one should have fire and water, and a
tea kettle and a tea pot, and the tea itself, and cups and saucers and
spoons, and sugar and milk, and a sugar pot and milk pot, besides a
number of other things. But how these things are to be brought
together, in their proper relation, and in a hurry, when they are all
thrown promiscuously in a heap, is a question more easily asked than
answered.
The simple order to prepare a little tea threw poor Judy into a fluster.
"Yes, misses," she mechanically replied, "but wey I gwine fin’ de tea?"
Mary was about to say, "In the sideboard of course," knowing that at
home it was always kept there, when suddenly she recollected that the
present sideboard was a new one, packed with table and bed clothes, and
moreover that it was nailed up fast in a long box. Then, where was the
tea? O, now she recalled the fact that the tea for immediate use was
corked up in a tin can and stowed away together with the teapot and
cups, saucers, spoons and other concomitants, in a certain green box.
But where was the green box? She and Judy peered among the confused
piles, and at last spied it under another box, on which was a large
basket that was covered with a pile of bedding.
Judy obtained the tea and tea-pot and kettle, but until that moment had
neglected to order a fire; so she went to the front door to look for her
husband.
"Peter!" she called. Peter was nowhere about the house. She saw him
below the bluff on his way to the landing. So, running a little nearer,
and raising her voice to a high musical pitch, she sung out, "Petah-h!
OH-H! Petah! Oh! PEE-tah!"
Peter came, and learning what was wanted, went to the landing for his
ax, and having brought her a stick of green oak wood on his shoulder,
sallied out once more to find some kindling.
While he was on this business, Judy prepared to get some water. "Wey my
bucket?" she inquired, looking around. "Who tek my bucket? I sho’
somebody moob um; fuh I put um right down yuh, under my new
calabash."[#]
[#] "Where is my bucket? Who has taken my bucket? I am sure somebody
has moved it, for I put it right down here under my new gourd."
But nobody had disturbed it. Judy had set it, half full of water, on
the ground outside the door, in the snuggest place she could find; but a
thirsty goat had found it, and another thirsty goat had fought for it,
and between the two, it had been upset, and rolled into a corner where
it lay concealed by a bundle. By the time Judy got another supply of
water ready it was growing dark. Peter had not made the fire because he
was not certain where she preferred to have it built; so he waited, like
a good, obedient husband, until she should direct him.
In the meantime, Mary was in trouble too. Where was the loaf sugar to
be placed in cracking it, and what should she use for a hammer? Then
the candle box must be opened, and candles and candle-sticks brought
together, and some place contrived for placing them after they were
lighted.
But perseverance conquers all things. Tea _was_ made, sugar _was_
cracked, and candles were both lighted and put in position. Bed-time
came soon after, and weary enough with their labour, they all laid down
to enjoy their first sleep at Bellevue. Mary and Frank occupied a
pallet spread behind a pile of boxes in one room, while their father and
the older boys lay upon cloaks, and whatever else they could convert
into a temporary mattress, in the other; and the servants tumbled
themselves upon a pile of their own clothing, which they had thrown
under a shelter erected beside the house.
Early the next morning, two convenient shelters were hastily
constructed, and the two rooms of the house were so far relieved of
their confused contents, as to allow space for sitting, and almost for
walking about. But ere this was half accomplished, Mary, whose sense of
order and propriety was very keen, was destined to be thrown into quite
an embarrassing situation.
Major Burke, the commandant of Fort Brooke, was a cousin of Mrs. Gordon,
and an old college friend of the Doctor, and hearing by the captain of
the brig of the arrival of the new comers, he rode over in the forenoon
of the next day to see them. Mary’s mind associated so indissolubly the
idea of _company_, with the stately etiquette of Charleston and
Savannah, that the sight of a well-dressed stranger approaching their
door, threw her almost into a fever.
"Oh! father," she cried, as soon as she could beckon him out of the back
door, "what shall we do?"
"Do?" he answered, laughing. "Why, nothing at all. What can we do?"
"But is he not going to dine with us?" enquired she.
"I presume so," he replied. "I am sure I shall ask him; but what of
that?"
"What, father, dine with us?" she remonstrated, "when our only table
unboxed is no bigger than a light stand, and we have scarcely room for
that!"
"Yes," he said, "we will do the best we can for him now, and hope to do
better some other time. Perhaps you will feel less disturbed when you
realize that he is your cousin and a soldier. Come, let me make you
acquainted with him."
Mary was naturally a neat girl, and although her hands were soiled with
labour, she was soon ready to obey her father’s invitation. Slipping
into the back room, by a low window, she washed her hands and face, and
brushed into order the ringlets that clustered around her usually sunny
face, and then came modestly into the apartment where the two gentlemen
were sitting.
"John, this is my eldest daughter, Mary," said the Doctor, as she
approached; "and Mary this is your cousin, Major Burke, of whom you have
heard your mother and me so often speak."
The two cousins shook hands very cordially, and appeared to be mutually
pleased.
"She is my housekeeper for the present," her father continued, "and has
been in some trouble" (here Mary looked reproachfully at him), "that she
could not give you a more fitting reception."
"Ah, indeed," said the Major, with a merry twinkle of his eye, "I
suspect that when my little cousin learns how often we soldiers are glad
to sit on the bare ground, and to feed, Indian fashion, on Indian fare,
she will feel little trouble about giving us entertainment."
Mary’s embarrassment was now wholly dispelled. Her cousin was fully
apprised of their crowded and confused condition, and was ready to
partake with good humour of whatever they could hastily prepare.
The dinner passed off far more agreeably than she supposed possible. By
her father’s direction, a dining table was unboxed and spread under the
boughs of a magnificent live oak, and Judy, having ascertained where the
stores were to be found, gave them not only a dinner, but a dessert to
boot, which they all enjoyed with evident relish. Ah!--black and ugly
as she was, that Judy was a jewel.
The Major had come thus hastily upon them for the purpose of insisting
that the whole family should occupy quarters at the Fort as his guests,
until the new house, intended for their future reception, should be
completed. To this Dr. Gordon objected that his presence was necessary
for the progression of the work, but promised that at the earliest
period when he could be spared for a few days, he would accept the
invitation and bring the young people with him.
The visitor did not take his leave until the shades of evening warned
him of the lapse of time. Mary had become much more interested, in
consequence of her first distress and the pleasant termination, than she
possibly could have been without these experiences; and as the whole
family stood at the front door, watching his rapidly diminishing figure,
she perpetrated a blunder which gave rise to much merriment.
Her father had remarked, "It will be long after dark before he can reach
the Fort."
Mary rejoined, "Yes, sir, but," looking with an abstracted air, first at
the table where they had enjoyed their pleasant repast, then at the
darkening form of the soldier, and finally at the full moon which began
to pour its silver radiance over the bay, "it will make no difference
tonight, for it will be blue-eyed Mary."
All turned their eyes upon her in perplexity, to gather from her
countenance the interpretation of her language; but Mary was still
looking quietly at the moon. Harold thought the girl had become
suddenly deranged.
Robert, who had observed her abstraction of mind, and who suspected the
truth, began to laugh. Her father turned to her and asked, with a tone
so divided between the ludicrous and the grave, that it was hard to tell
which predominated, "What do you mean by ’blue-eyed Mary’?"
"Did I say blue-eyed Mary?" she exclaimed, reddening from her temples to
her finger ends, and then giving way to a fit of laughter so hearty and
so prolonged, that she could scarcely reply, "I meant _moonlight_."[#]
[#] It is but justice to say that this absurd mistake was _an actual
occurrence_. For many a day afterwards the members of the company
present on that occasion seldom alluded to moonlight among each other,
but by the name of "blue-eyed Mary."
There was no resisting the impulse, all laughed with her, and long
afterwards did it furnish a theme for merriment. Robert, however, was
disposed to be so wicked on the occasion, that his father deemed it
necessary to stop his teasing, by turning the laugh against him.
"It is certainly," said he, "the most ridiculous thing I have witnessed
since Robert’s queer prank at the prayer-meeting."
As soon as the word "prayer-meeting" was uttered, Robert’s countenance
fell.
"What is it, uncle?" inquired Harold.
"O, do tell it, father," begged Mary, clapping her hands with delight.
"About a year since," said Dr. Gordon, "I attended a prayer-meeting in
the city of Charleston, where thirty or forty intelligent people were
assembled at the house of their pastor. It was night. Robert occupied
a chair near the table, beside which the minister officiated, and where
he could be seen by every person in the room: Not long after the
minister’s address began, Robert’s head was seen to nod; and every once
in a while his nods were so expressive, apparently, of assent to the
remarks made, as to bring a smile upon the face of more than one of the
company. But he was not content with nodding. Soon his head fell back
upon the chair, and he snored most musically, with his mouth wide open.
It was then nearly time for another prayer, and I was very much in hopes
that when we moved to kneel, he would be awakened by the noise. But no
such good fortune was in store for me. He slept through the whole
prayer; and then, to make the scene as ridiculous as possible, he awoke
as the people were in the act of rising, and, supposing they were about
to kneel, he deliberately knelt down beside his chair, and kept that
position until he was seen by every person present. There was a slight
pause in the services, I think the clergyman himself was somewhat
disconcerted, and afraid to trust his voice. Poor Robert soon suspected
his mistake. He peeped cautiously around, then arose and took his seat
with a very silly look. I am glad it happened. He has never gone to
sleep in meeting since."
And from that time forth Mary never heard Robert allude to her
moonlight; indeed he was so much cut down by this story, that for a day
or two he was more than usually quiet. At last, however, an incident
occurred which restored to him the ascendancy he had hitherto held over
his cousin, by illustrating the importance of possessing a proper store
of sound, practical knowledge.
The two had gone to examine an old well, near the house, and were
speculating upon the possibility of cleansing it from its trash and
other impurities, so as to be fit for use, when Harold’s knife slipped
from his hand and fell down the well. It did not fall into the water,
but was caught by a half decayed board that floated on its surface.
"I cannot afford to lose that knife," said Harold, looking around for
something to aid his descent, "I must go down after it."
"You had better be careful how you do that," interposed Robert, "it may
not be safe."
"What," asked Harold, "are you afraid of the well’s caving?"
"Not so much of its caving," replied Robert, "as of the bad air that may
have collected at the bottom."
Harold snuffed at the well’s mouth to detect such ill odours as might be
there, and said, "I perceive no smell."
"You mistake my meaning," remarked Robert. "In all old wells, vaults
and places under ground, there is apt to collect a kind of air or gas,
like that which comes from burning charcoal, that will quickly suffocate
any one who breathes it. Many a person has lost his life by going into
such a place without testing it beforehand."
"Can you tell whether there is any of it here?" asked Harold.
"Very easily, with a little fire," answered Robert. "AIR THAT WILL NOT
SUPPORT FLAME, WILL NOT SUPPORT LIFE."
They stuck a splinter of rich pine in the cleft end of a pole, and,
lighting it by a match, let it softly down the well. To Harold’s
astonishment the flame was extinguished as suddenly as if it had been
dipped in water, before it had gone half way to the bottom.
"Stop, let us try that experiment again," said he.
They tried it repeatedly, and with the same result, except that the
heavy poisonous air below being stirred by the pole, had become somewhat
mingled with the pure air above, and the flame was not extinguished
quite so suddenly as at first; it burnt more and more dimly as it
descended, and then went out.
"I do believe there is something there," said he at last, "and I
certainly shall not go down, as I intended. But how am I to get my
knife?"
"By using father’s magnet, which is a strong one," replied Robert. "Let
us go and ask him for it."
On relating the circumstances to Dr. Gordon, he said, "You have made a
most fortunate escape, Harold. Had you descended that well, filled as
it is with carbonic acid gas, you would have become suddenly sick and
faint, and would probably have fallen senseless before you could have
called for help. _Make it a rule never to descend such a place without
first trying the purity of its air, as you did just now_."
"But can we not get that bad air out?" asked Harold.
"Yes, by various means, and some of them very easy," replied his uncle.
"One is by exploding gunpowder as far down as possible; another is by
lowering down and drawing up many times a thickly leaved bush, so as to
pump out the foul air, or at least to mix it largely with the pure. But
your knife can be obtained without all that trouble. Robert, can you
not put him upon a plan?"
"I have already mentioned it, and we have come to ask if you will not
let us have your magnet," replied Robert. "But," continued he
smilingly, "I do not think that we shall have any need this time for the
looking-glass."
Harold looked from one to the other for an explanation, and his uncle
said:
"Last year Robert dropped his knife down a well, as you did, and
proposed to recover it by means of a strong magnet tied to a string.
But the well was deep and very dark, and after fishing a long time in
vain, he came to me for help. I made him bring a large looking-glass
from the house, and by means of it reflected such a body of sun-light
down the well that we could plainly see his knife at the bottom, stowed
away in a corner. The magnet was strong enough to bring it safely to
the top. You also may try the experiment."
With thanks, Harold took the offered magnet, tied it to a string, and
soon recovered his knife.