people of the country came down to the shore and stood upon the rocks
to see if they could do anything to save us. We were very near the
shore, but the breakers and the boiling surf were so violent between
us and the land that whoever took to the water was sure to be dashed
in pieces. So everybody clung to the ship, waiting for the captain to
contrive some way to get us to the shore."
"And what did he do?" asked Phonny.
"He first got a long line and a cask, and he fastened the end of the
long line to the cask, and then threw the cask overboard. The other
end of the line was kept on board the ship. The cask was tossed about
upon the waves, every successive surge driving it in nearer and nearer
to the shore, until at last it was thrown up high upon the rocks. The
men upon the shore ran to seize it, but before they could get hold of
it the receding wave carried it back again among the breakers, where
it was tossed about as if it had been a feather, and overwhelmed with
the spray. Presently away it went again up upon the shore, and the men
again attempted to seize it. This was repeated two or three times. At
last they succeeded in grasping hold of it, and they ran up with it
upon the rocks, out of the reach of the seas.
"The captain then made signs to the men to pull the line in toward the
shore. He was obliged to use signs, because the roaring and thundering
of the seas made such a noise that nothing could be heard. The sailors
had before this, under the captain's direction, fastened a much
stronger line--a small cable, in fact--to the end of the line which
had been attached to the barrel. Thus, by pulling upon the smaller
line, the men drew one end of the cable to the shore. The other end
remained on board the ship, while the middle of it lay tossing among
the breakers between the ship and the shore.
"The seamen then carried that part of the cable which was on shipboard
up to the masthead, while the men on shore made their end fast to a
very strong post which they set in the ground. The seamen drew the
cable as tight as they could, and fastened their end very strongly to
the masthead. Thus the line of the cable passed in a gentle slope from
the top of the mast to the land, high above all the surges and spray.
The captain then rigged what he called a sling, which was a sort of
loop of ropes that a person could be put into and made to slide down
in it on the cable to the shore. A great many of the passengers were
afraid to go in this way, but they were still more afraid to remain on
board the ship."
"What were they afraid of?" asked Phonny.
"They were afraid," replied Beechnut, "that the shocks of the seas
would soon break the ship to pieces, and then they would all be thrown
into the sea together. In this case they would certainly be destroyed,
for if they were not drowned, they would be dashed to pieces on the
rocks which lined the shore.
"Sliding down the line seemed thus a very dangerous attempt, but they
consented one after another to make the trial, and thus we all escaped
safe to land."
"And did you get the clock-weights safe to the shore?" asked Phonny.
"Yes," replied Beechnut, "and as soon as we landed we hid them in the
sand. My father took me to a little cove close by, where there was not
much surf, as the place was protected by a rocky point of land which
bounded it on one side. Behind this point of land the waves rolled up
quietly upon a sandy beach. My father went down upon the slope of this
beach, to a place a little below where the highest waves came, and
began to dig a hole in the sand. He called me to come and help him.
The waves impeded our work a little, but we persevered until we had
dug a hole about a foot deep. We put our clock-weights into this hole
and covered them over. We then ran back up upon the beach. The waves
that came up every moment over the place soon smoothed the surface of
the sand again, and made it look as if nothing had been done there. My
father measured the distance from the place where he had deposited his
treasure up to a certain great white rock upon the shore exactly
opposite to it, so as to be able to find the place again, and then we
went back to our company. They were collected on the rocks in little
groups, wet and tired, and in great confusion, but rejoiced at having
escaped with their lives. Some of the last of the sailors were then
coming over in the sling. The captain himself came last of all.
"There were some huts near the place on the shore, where the men made
good fires, and we warmed and dried ourselves. The storm abated a
great deal in a few hours, and the tide went down, so that we could go
off to the ship before night to get some provisions. The next morning
the men could work at the ship very easily, and they brought all the
passengers' baggage on shore. My father got his trunk with the clock
in it. A day or two afterward some sloops came to the place, and took
us all away to carry us to Quebec. Just before we embarked on board
the sloops, my father and I, watching a good opportunity, dug up our
weights out of the sand, and put them back safely in their places in
the clock-box."
"Is that the end?" asked Phonny, when Beechnut paused.
"Yes," replied Beechnut, "I believe I had better make that the end."
"I think it is a very interesting and well-told story," said Madeline.
"And do you feel very tired?"
"No," said Beechnut. "On the contrary, I feel all the better for my
ride. I believe I will sit up a little while."
So saying, he raised himself in the wagon and sat up, and began to
look about him.
"What a wonderful voyage you had, Beechnut!" said Phonny. "But I never
knew before that you were shipwrecked."
"Well, in point of fact," replied Beechnut, "I never was
shipwrecked."
"Never was!" exclaimed Phonny. "Why, what is all this story that you
have been telling us, then?"
"Embellishment," said Beechnut quietly.
"Embellishment!" repeated Phonny, more and more amazed.
"Yes," said Beechnut.
"Then you were not wrecked at all?" said Phonny.
"No," replied Beechnut.
"And how did you get to the land?" asked Phonny.
"Why, we sailed quietly up the St. Lawrence," replied Beechnut, "and
landed safely at Quebec, as other vessels do."
"And the clock-weights?" asked Phonny.
"All embellishment," said Beechnut. "My father had no such clock, in
point of fact. He put his money in a bag, his bag in his chest, and
his chest in the hold, and it came as safe as the captain's sextant."
"And the iceberg and the rainbow?" said Madeline.
"Embellishment, all embellishment," said Beechnut.
"Dear me!" said Phonny, "I thought it was all true."
"Did you?" said Beechnut. "I am sorry that you were so deceived, and I
am sure it was not my fault, for I gave you your choice of a true
story or an invention, and you chose the invention."
"Yes," said Phonny, "so we did."
THE OYSTER PATTIES
There was once a little boy who perhaps might have been a good little
fellow if his friends had taken pains to make him so; but--I do not
know how it was--instead of teaching him to be good, they gave him
everything he cried for; so, whenever he wished to have anything, he
had only to cry, and if he did not get it directly, he cried louder
and louder till at last he got it. By this means Alfred was not only
very naughty, but very unhappy. He was crying from morning till night.
He had no pleasure in anything; he was in everybody's way, and nobody
liked to be with him.
Well, one day his mother thought she would give him a day of pleasure,
and make him very happy indeed, so she told him he should have a
feast, and dine under the great cedar tree that stood upon the lawn,
and that his cousins should be invited to dine with him, and that he
should have whatever he chose for his dinner. So she rang the bell,
and she told the servants to take out tables and chairs and to lay the
cloth upon the table under the tree, and she ordered her two footmen
to be ready to wait upon him.
She desired the butler to tell the cook to prepare the dinner, and to
get all sorts of nice dishes for the feast; but she said to Alfred:
"What shall you like best of all, my dear boy?"
So Alfred tried to think of something that he had never had before,
and he recollected that one day he had heard a lady, who was dining
with his father and mother, say that the oyster patties were the best
she had ever eaten. Now Alfred had never tasted oyster patties, so he
said he would have oyster patties for dinner.
"Oyster patties, my dear boy? You cannot have oyster patties at this
time of the year; there are no oysters to be had," his mother said to
him. "Try, love, to think of something else."
But naughty Alfred said:
"No, I can think of nothing else."
So the cook was sent for, and desired to think of something that he
might like as well. The cook proposed first a currant pie, then a
barberry pie, or a codlin pie with custard.
"No, no, no!" said Alfred, shaking his head.
"Or a strawberry tart, my sweet boy? or apricot jam?" said his mother,
in a soothing tone of voice.
But Alfred said:
"No, mother, no. I don't like strawberries. I don't like apricot jam.
I want oysters."
"But you cannot have oysters, my little master," said the cook.
"But I will have oysters," said the little boy, "and you shan't say
that I can't have them--shall she, mother?"
And he began to scream and to cry.
"Do not cry, my sweet soul," said his mother, "and we will see what we
can do. Dry up your tears, my little man, and come with me, and, the
cook, I dare say, will be able to get some oysters before dinner. It
is a long time to dinner, you know, and I have some pretty toys for
you upstairs, if you will come with me till dinner is ready."
So she took the little crying boy by the hand and led him up to her
room, and she whispered to the cook, as she passed, not to say
anything more about it now, and that she hoped he would forget the
oyster patties by the time dinner was ready. In the meantime she took
all the pains she could to amuse and please him, and as fast as he
grew tired of one toy she brought out another.
At last, after some hours, she gave him a beautiful toy for which she
had paid fifteen shillings. It was a sand toy of a woman sitting at a
spinning-wheel, and when it was turned up the little figure began
spinning away, and the wheel turned round and round as fast as if the
woman who turned it had been alive. Alfred wanted to see how it was
done, but, instead of going to his mother to ask her if she would be
so good as to explain it to him, he began pulling it to pieces to look
behind it. For some time he was very busy, and he had just succeeded
in opening the large box at the back of the figure when all the sand
that was in it came pouring out upon the floor, and when he tried to
make the little woman spin again, he found she would not do it any
more. She could not, for it was the sand dropping down that had made
her move before.
Now, do you know that Alfred was so very silly that he began to be
angry even with the toy, and he said, "Spin, I say! spin directly!"
and then he shook it very hard, but in vain. The little hands did not
move, and the wheel stood still. So then he was very angry indeed,
and, setting up a loud cry, he threw the toy to the other end of the
room. Just at this very moment the servant opened the door and said
that dinner was ready, and that Alfred's cousins were arrived.
"Come, my dear child; you are tired of your toys, I see," said his
mother, "so come to dinner, darling. It is all ready under the tree."
So away they went, leaving the room all strewed with toys, with broken
pieces, and the sand all spilt in a heap upon the floor. When they
went under the dark spreading branches of the fine old cedar-tree,
there they saw the table covered with dishes and garnished with
flowers. There were chickens, and ham, and tongue, and lobsters,
besides tarts, and custards, and jellies, and cakes, and cream, and I
do not know how many nice things besides. There was Alfred's high
chair at the head of the table, and he was soon seated in it, as
master of the feast, with his mother sitting by him, his cousins
opposite to him, his nurse standing on the other side, and the two
footmen waiting besides.
As soon as his cousins were helped to what they liked best, his mother
said:
"What will you eat first, Alfred, my love? A wing of a chicken?"
"No," said Alfred, pushing it away.
"A slice of ham, darling?" said nurse.
"No," said Alfred, in a louder tone.
"A little bit of lobster, my dear?"
"No, no," replied the naughty boy.
"Well, what _will_ you have, then?" said his mother, who was almost
tired of him.
"I will have oyster patties," said he.
"That is the only thing you cannot have, my love, you know, so do not
think of it any more, but taste a bit of this pie. I am sure you will
like it."
"You _said_ I should have oyster patties by dinner-time," said Alfred,
"and so I will have nothing else."
"I am sorry you are such a sad, naughty child," said his mother. "I
thought you would have been so pleased with all these nice things to
eat."
"They are _not_ nice," said the child, who was not at all grateful for
all that his mother had done, but was now in such a passion that he
took the piece of currant tart which his nurse again offered to him,
and, squeezing, up as much as his two little hands could hold, he
threw it at his nurse, and stained her nice white handkerchief and
apron with the red juice.
Just at this moment his father came into the garden, and walked up to
the table.
"What is all his?" said he. "Alfred, you seem to be a very naughty boy
indeed; and I must tell you, sir, I shall allow this no longer. Get
down from your chair, sir, and beg your nurse's pardon."
Alfred had hardly ever heard his father speak so before, and he felt
so frightened that he left off crying and did as he was bid. Then his
father took him by the hand and led him away.
His mother said she was sure he would now be good and eat the currant
tart; but his father said:
"No, no, it is now too late; he must come with me."
So he led him away, without saying another word.
He took him into the village, and he stopped at the door, of a poor
cottage.
"May we come in?" said his father.
"Oh yes, and welcome," said a poor woman, who was standing at a table
with a saucepan in her hand.
"What are you doing, my good woman?"
"Only putting out the children's supper, your honor."
"And what have you got for their supper?"
"Only some potatoes, please you, sir; but they be nicely boiled, and
here come the hungry boys! They are coming in from their work, and
they will soon make an end of them, I warrant."
As she said these words in came John, and William, and Thomas, all
with rosy cheeks and smiling faces. They sat down--one on a wooden
stool, one on a broken chair, and one on the corner of the table--and
they all began to eat the potatoes very heartily.
But Alfred's father said:
"Stop, my good boys; do not eat any more, but come with me."
The boys stared, but their mother told them to do as they were bid, so
they left off eating and followed the gentleman.
Alfred and his father walked on till they arrived once more under the
cedar-tree in the garden, and there was the fine feast all standing
just as they had left it, for Alfred's cousins were gone away, and his
mother would not have the dinner taken away, because she hoped that
Alfred would come back to it.
"Now, boys," said the gentleman, "you may all sit down to this table
and eat whatever you like."
John, William, and Thomas sat down as quickly as they could, and began
to devour the chickens and tarts, and all the good things, at a great
rate; and Alfred, who now began to be very hungry, would gladly have
been one of the party; but when he was going to sit down, his father
said:
"No, sir; this feast is not for _you_. There is nothing here that you
like to eat, you know; so you will wait upon these boys, if you
please, who seem as if they would find plenty that they will like."
Alfred at this began to cry again, and said he wanted to go to his
mother; but his father did not mind his crying, and said he should not
go to his mother again till he was quite a good boy.
"So now, sir, hand this bread to John, and now take a clean plate to
Thomas, and now stand ready to carry this custard to William. There
now, wait till they have all done."
It was of no use now to cry or scream; he was obliged to do it all.
When the boys had quite finished their supper they went home, and
Alfred was led by his father into the house. Before he went to bed, a
cup of milk and water and a piece of brown bread were put before him,
and his father said:
"That is your supper, Alfred."
Alfred began to cry again, and said he did not want such a supper as
that.
"Very well," said his father, "then go to bed without, and it shall be
saved for your breakfast."
Alfred cried and screamed louder than ever, so his father ordered the
maid to put him to bed. When he was in bed, he thought his mother
would come and see him and bring him something nice, and he lay awake
a long while; but she did not come, and he cried and cried till at
last he fell asleep.
In the morning, when he awoke, he was so hungry he could hardly wait
to be dressed, but asked for his breakfast every minute. When he saw
the maid bring in the brown bread again without any butter, and some
milk and water, he was very near crying again; but he thought if he
did he should perhaps lose his breakfast as he had lost his supper, so
he checked his tears, and ate a hearty meal.
"Well," said his father, who came into the room just as he was eating
the last bit of bread, "I am glad to see the little boy who could not
yesterday find anything good enough for him at a feast eating such
simple fare as this so heartily. Come, Alfred, now you may come to
your dear mother."
TWO LITTLE BOYS
By THOMAS DAY
I
THE GOOD-NATURED LITTLE BOY
A little boy went out one morning to walk to a village about five
miles from the place where he lived, and carried with him in a basket
the provision that was to serve him the whole day. As he was walking
along a poor little half-starved dog came up to him, wagging his tail
and seeming to entreat him to take compassion on him.
The little boy at first took no notice of him, but at length,
remarking how lean and famished the creature seemed to be, he said:
"This animal is certainly in very great necessity. If I give him part
of my provision I shall be obliged to go home hungry myself; however,
as he seems to want it more than I do, he shall partake with me."
Saying this, he gave the dog part of what he had in his basket, who
ate as if he had not tasted victuals for a fortnight.
The little boy went on a little further, his dog still following him
and fawning upon him with the greatest gratitude and affection, when
he saw a poor old horse lying upon the ground, and groaning as if he
was very ill. He went up to him, and saw that he was almost starved,
and so weak that he was unable to rise. "I am very much afraid," said
the little boy, "if I stay to assist this horse that it will be dark
before I can return, and I have heard there are several thieves in the
neighborhood. However, I will try. It is doing a good action to
attempt to relieve him, and God Almighty will take care of me." He
then went and gathered some grass, which he brought to the horse's
mouth, who immediately began to eat with as much relish as if his
chief disease was hunger. He then fetched some water in his hat,
which the animal drank up, and seemed immediately to be so much
refreshed that after a few trials he got up and began grazing.
He then went on a little further, and saw a man wading about in a pool
of water without being able to get out, in spite of all his endeavors.
"What is the matter, good man?" said the little boy to him. "Can't you
find your way out of this pond?" "No, God bless you, my worthy master,
or miss," said the man, "for such I take you to be by your voice. I
have fallen into this pond, and know not how to get out again, as I am
quite blind, and I am almost afraid to move for fear of being
drowned." "Well," said the little boy, "though I shall be wetted to
the skin, if you will throw me your stick, I will try to help you out
of it."
The blind man then threw the stick on to that side on which he heard
the voice; the little boy caught it, and went into the water, feeling
very carefully before him, lest he should unguardedly go beyond his
depth. At length he reached the blind man, took him very carefully by
the hand, and led him out. The blind man then gave him a thousand
blessings, and told him he could grope his way home, and the little
boy ran on as hard as he could to prevent being benighted.
But he had not proceeded far when he saw a poor sailor, that had lost
both his legs in an engagement by sea, hopping along upon crutches.
"God bless you, my little master!" said the sailor. "I have fought
many a battle with the French to defend poor old England, but now I am
crippled, as you see, and have neither victuals nor money, although I
am almost famished." The little boy could not resist his inclination
to relieve him, so he gave him all his remaining victuals, and said:
"God help you, poor man! This is all I have, otherwise you should have
more."
He then ran along, and presently arrived at the town he was going to,
did his business, and returned towards his own home with all the
expedition he was able.
But he had not gone much more than half-way before the night shut in
extremely dark, without either moon or stars to light him. The poor
little boy did all he could to find his way, but unfortunately missed
it in turning down a lane which brought him into a wood, where he
wandered about a great while without being able to find any path to
lead him out.
Tired out at last and hungry, he felt himself so feeble that he could
go no further, but sat himself down upon the ground, crying most
bitterly. In this situation he remained for some time, till at last
the little dog, who had never forsaken him, came up to him, wagging
his tail, and holding something in his mouth. The little, boy took it
from him, and saw it was a handkerchief nicely pinned together, which
someone had dropped and the dog had picked up; and upon opening it he
found several slices of bread and meat, which the little boy ate with
great satisfaction, and felt himself extremely refreshed with his
meal. "So," said the little boy, "I see that if I have given you a
breakfast you have given me a supper, and a good turn is never lost,
not even to a dog."
He then once more attempted to escape from the woods, but it was to no
purpose; he only scratched his legs with the briars, and slipped down
in the dirt, without being able to find his way out. He was just going
to give up all further attempts in despair, when he happened to see a
horse feeding before him, and going up to him saw, by the light of the
moon which just then began to shine a little, that it was the very
same horse he had fed in the morning. "Perhaps," said the little boy,
"this creature that I have been so good to will let me get upon his
back, and he may bring me out of the wood, as he is accustomed to feed
in this neighborhood."
The little boy then went up to the horse, speaking to him and stroking
him, and the horse let him mount his back without opposition, and then
proceeded slowly through the wood, grazing as he went, till he brought
him to an opening which led to the high road. The little boy was much
rejoiced at this and said: "If I hadn't saved the creature's life in
the morning I should have been obliged to have stayed here all the
night. I see by this that a good deed is never lost."
But the poor little boy had yet a greater danger to undergo, for as he
was going along a solitary lane two men rushed out upon him, laid hold
of him, and were going to strip him of his clothes; but just as they
were beginning to do it the little dog bit the leg of one of the men
with so much violence that he left the little boy and pursued the dog,
which ran howling and barking away. In this instant a voice was heard
that cried out: "There are the rascals! Let us knock them down!" which
frightened the remaining man so much that he ran away, and his
companion followed him.