ST. CHRISTINA’S HOME.
Wall, it wuz that very afternoon, almost immegetly after dinner, that
Josiah Allen invited me warmly to go with him to the Roller Coaster.
And I compromised the matter by his goin’ with us first to St.
Christina’s Home, and then, I told him, I would proceed with him to the
place where he would be. They wuz both on one road, nigh to each other,
and he consented after some words.
I felt dretfully interested in this Home, for it is a place where poor
little sick children are took to, out of their miserable, stiflin’,
dirty garrets, and cellars, and kep’ and made well and happy in their
pleasant, home-like surroundin’s. And I thought to myself, as I looked
ont on the big grounds surroundin’ it, and walked through the clean
wide rooms, that the change to these children, brought out of their
narrow dark homes of want and woe, into this great sunshiny Home with
its clean fresh rooms, its good food, its cheery Christian atmosphere,
its broad sunshiny playgrounds, must seem like enterin’ Paradise to
’em.
And I thought to myself how thankful I wuz that this pleasant House
Beautiful, wuz prepared for the rest and refreshment of the poor little
pilgrims, worn out so early in the march of life. And I further
thinkses I, “Heaven bless the kind heart that first thought on’t, and
carried out the heavenly idee.”
The children’s faces all looked, so happy, and bright, it wuz a treat
to see ’em. And the face of the sister who showed us round the rooms
looked as calm, and peaceful, and happy, as if her face wuz the sun
from which their little lights wuz reflected.
Up amongst the rooms overhead, every one on ’em clean as a pin and
sweet and orderly, wuz one room that specially attracted my attention.
It wuz a small chapel where the little ones wuz took to learn their
prayers and say ’em. It wuzn’t a big, barren barn of a room, such as I
have often seen in similar places, and which I have always thought must
impress the children with a awful sense of the immensity and
lonesomeness of space, and the intangebility, and distance of the Great
Spirit who inhabiteth Eternity. No, it wuz small, and cozy, and
cheerful, like a home. And the stained glass window held a beautiful
picture of love and charity, which might well touch the children’s
hearts, sweetly and unconsciously, with the divine worth of love, and
beauty, and goodness.
And I could fancy the dear, little ones kneelin’ here, and prayin’ “Our
Father, who art in Heaven,” and feelin’ that He wuz indeed their
Father, and not a stranger, and that Heaven wuz not fur off from ’em.
And I thought to myself “Never! never! through all their life will they
get entirely away from the pure, sweet lessons they learn here.”
I enjoyed the hour I spent here with a deep, heart enjoyment, and so
did Josiah. Or, that is, I guess he did, though he whispered to me from
time to time, or even oftener, as we went through the buildin’, that we
wuz a devourin’ time that we might be spendin’ at the Roller Coaster.
Wall, at last, greatly to my pardner’s satisfaction, we sot out for the
place where he fain would be. On our way there we roamed through
another Indian Encampment, a smaller one than that where we had the
fearful incident of the Mermaid and Sarah.
No, it wuzn’t so big, but it had many innocent diversions and a
photograph gallery, and other things for its comfert. And a standin’ up
a leanin’ aginst a tree, by one of the little houses stood a Injun. He
wuz one of the last left of his tribe. He seemed to be a lookin’
pensively on—and seein’ how the land that had belonged to ’em, the
happy huntin’-grounds, the springs they believed the Great Spirit had
gin to ’em, had all passed away into the bands of another race.
I wuz sorry for that Injun, real sorry. And thinkses I to myself, we
feel considerable pert now, and lively, but who knows in another three
or four hundred years, but what one of the last of our race, may be a
leanin’ up aginst some new tree, right in the same spot, a watchin’ the
old places passed away into other hands, mebby black hands, or some
other colored ones; mebby yellow ones, who knows? I don’t, nor Josiah
don’t. But my pardner wuz a hurryin’ me on, so I dropped my revery and
my umberell in my haste to foller on after his footsteps.
Josiah picked up my umberell, but he couldn’t pick up my soarin’
emotions for me. No, he haint never been able, to get holt of ’em. But
suffice it to say, that soon, preceded by my companion, I found myself
a mountin’ the nearly precipitus stairs, that led to the Roller
Coaster.
The Rollercoaster
And havin’ reached the spot, who should we find there but Ardelia Tutt
and Bial Flamburg. They had been on the Roller Coaster seven times in
succession, and the car. And they wuz now a sittin’ down to recooperate
their energies, and collect their scattered wits together. The Roller
Coaster is _very_ scatterin’ to wits that are not collected firm and
sound, and cemented by strong common sense.
The reason why the Roller Coaster don’t scatter such folkses wits is
supposed to be because, they don’t go on to it. Ardelia looked as if
her idees wuz scattered to the four pints of the compass. As for Bial,
it seemed to me, as if he never had none to scatter. But he spoke out
to once, and said, he didn’t care to ride on ’em. (Bial Flamburg’s
strong pint, is his truthfulness, I can’t deny that.)
Ardelia wouldn’t own up but what she enjoyed it dretfully. You know
folks are most always so. If they partake of a pleasure and recreation
that is doubtful in its effects, they will always say, what a high
extreme of enjoyment they enjoyed a partakin’ of it. Curius, haint it?
Wall, Josiah had been anticipatin’ so much enjoyment from the exercise,
that I didn’t make no move to prevent him from embarkin’ on it—though
it looked hazardous and dangerous in the extreme.
I looked down on the long valleys, and precipitous heights of the
assents and desents, in which my pardner wuz so soon to be assentin’
and desentin’ and I trembled, and wuz jest about to urge him to forego
his diversion, for the sake of his pardner’s happiness, but as I turned
to expostulate with him, I see the beautiful, joyous, hopeful look on
his liniment, and the words fell almost dead on my tongue. I felt that
I had ruther suffer in silence than to say one word to mar that bliss.
Such is the love of pardners, and such is some of the agonies they
suffer silently to save from woundin’ the more opposite one. No, I said
not a word; but silently sat, and see him makin’ his preparations to
embark. He see the expression onto my face, and he too wuz touched by
it. He never said one word to me about embarkin’ too, which I laid to
two reasons. One wuz my immovable determination not to embark on the
voyage, which I had confided to him before.
And the other wuz, the added expenses of the journey if he took his
companion with him.
No, I felt that he thought it wuz better we should part temporarily
than that the expenditure should be doubled. But as the time drew near
for him to leave me, I see by his meen that he felt bad about leavin’
me. He realized what a companion I had been to him. He realized the
safety and repose he had always found at my side and the unknown
dangers he wuz a rushin’ into.
And he got up and silently shook hands with me. He would have kissed
me, I make no doubt, if folks hadn’t been a standin’ by. He then
embarked, and with lightnin’ speed wuz bore away from me, as he
dissapeared down the desent, his few gray hairs waved back, and as he
went over the last precipitus hill, I heard him cry out in agonizin’
axents, “Samantha! Samantha!”
And I rushed forwards to his rescue but so lightnin’ quick wuz their
movements that I met my companion a comin’ back, and I sez, the first
thing, “I heard your cry, Josiah! I rushed to save you, my dear
pardner.”
“Yes,” sez he, “I spoke out to you, to call your attention to the
landscape, over the woods there!”
I looked at him in a curious, still sort of a way, and didn’t say
nothin’ only just that look. Why, that man looked all trembly and broke
up, but he kep’ on.
“Yes, it wuz beautiful and inspirin’, and I knew you wuz such a case
for landscapes, I thought I would call your attention to it.”
Sez I, coldly, “You wuz skairt, Josiah Allen, and you know it.”
“Skairt! the idee of me bein’ skairt. I wuz callin’ your attention to
the beauty of the view, over in the woods.”
“What wuz it?” sez I, still more coldly; for I can’t bear deceit, and
coverin’ up.
“Oh, it wuz a house, and a tree, and a barn, and things.”
“A great seen to scream about,” sez I. “It would probable have stood
there till you got back, but you couldn’t seem to wait.”
“No, I have noticed that you always wanted to see things to once. I
have noticed it in you.”
“I could most probable have waited till you got back, to see a house
and a tree.” And in still more—frigid axents, I added, “Or a barn.” And
I sez, kinder sarkastikly, “You enjoyed your ride, I s’pose.”
“Immensely, it wuz perfectly beautiful! So sort a free and soarin’
like. It is jest what suits a man.”
“You’d better go right over it agin,” sez I.
“Yes,” sez the man who runs the cars. “You’d better go agin.”
“Oh no,” sez Josiah.
“Why not?” sez I.
“Why not?” sez the man.
Josiah Allen looked all around the room, and down on the grass, as if
trying to find a good reasonable excuse a layin’ round loose somewhere,
so’s he could get holt of it.
“You’d better go,” sez I, “I love to see you happy, Josiah Allen.”
“Yes, you’d better go,” sez the man.
“No!” sez Josiah, still a lookin’ round for a excuse, up into the
heavens and onto the horizon. And at last his face kinder brightenin’
up, as if he had found one: “No, it looks so kinder cloudy, I guess I
won’t go. I think we shall have rain between now and night.” And so we
said no more on the subject and sot out homewards.
Ardelia wrote a poem on the occasion, wrote it right there, with
rapidity and a lead pencil, and handed it to me, before I left the
room. I put it into my pocket and didn’t think on it, for some days
afterwards.
That night after we got home from the Roller Coaster, I felt dretful
sort a down hearted about Abram Gee, I see in that little incident of
the day, that Bial, although I couldn’t like him, yet I see he had his
good qualities, I see how truthful he wuz. And although I love truth—I
fairly worship it—yet I felt that if things wuz as he said they wuz, he
would more’n probable get Ardelia Tutt, for I know the power of
Ambition in her, and I felt that she would risk the chances of
happiness, for the name of bein’ a Banker’s Bride.
So I sat there in deep gloom, and a chocolate colored wrapper, till as
late as half past nine o’clock P. M. And I felt that the course of
Abram’s love wuz not runnin’ smooth. No, I felt that it wuz runnin’ in
a dwindlin’ torrent over a rocky bed, and a precipitus one. And I felt
that if he wuz with me then and there, if we didn’t mingle our tears
together we could our sithes, for I sithed, powerful and frequent.
Poor short-sighted creeter that I wuz, a settin’ in the shadow, when
the sun wuz jest a gettin’ ready to shine out onto Abram and reflect
off onto my envious heart. Even at that very time the hand of righteous
Retribution had slipped its sure noose over Bial Flamburg’s neck, and
wuz a walkin’ him away from Ardelia, away from happiness (oritory).
At that very hour, half past nine P. M., Ardelia Tutt and Abram Gee had
met agin, and rosy love and happiness wuz even then a stringin’ roses
on the chain that wuz to bind ’em together forever.
The way on’t wuz: It bein’ early when Ardelia got here, Bial proposed
to take her out for a drive and she consented. He got a livery horse,
and buggy, and they say that the livery man knew jest what sort of a
creeter the horse wuz, and knew it wuz liable to break the buggy all to
pieces and them to, and he let ’em have it for goin.’ But howsumever,
whether that is so or not, when they got about five or six milds from
Saratoga the horse skeert out of the road, and throwed ’em both out.
It wuz a bank of sand that skeert it, a high bank that wuz piled up by
a little hovel that stood by the side of the road. The ground all round
the hut wuz too poor to raise anything else but sand, and had raised
sights of that.
A man and woman, dretful shabby lookin’, wuz a standin’ by the door of
the hut, and the man had a shovel in his hand, and had been a loadin’
sand into a awful big wheelbarrow that wuz a standin’ by—seemin’ly
ready to carry it acrost the fields, to where some man wuz a mixin’
some motar, to lay the foundations of a barn.
Wall, the old man stood a pantin’ by the side of the wheelbarrow, as if
he had indeed got on too heavy a load. It wuz piled up high. The horse
shied, and Ardelia wuz throwed right out onto the bank of sand, Bial by
the side of her. And the old man and woman came a runnin’ up, and
callin’ out, “Bial, my son, my son, are you wounded?”
The Accident
And there it all wuz. Ardelia see the hull on it. The Banker wuz before
her, and she wuz a layin’ on the bank. And the banker wuz a doin’ a
heavy business, if anybody doubted it, let ’em take holt and cart a
load on it acrost the fields.
Wall, Ardelia wuz jarred fearful, in her heart, her ambition, her
pride, and her bones. And as the horse wuz a fleein’ far away, and no
other conveyance could be found to transport her to the next house
(Ardelia wouldn’t go into his’n), and night wuz approachin’ with rapid
strides, the old Banker jest unloaded the load of sand (good old
creeter, he would have to load it all over agin), and took Ardelia into
the wheelbarrow, and wheeled her over to the next house and unloaded
her.
Ardelia in the wheelbarrow
The old Banker told Ardelia that when his neighbor got home he would
take her back to Saratoga, which he did. He had been to the village for
necessaries, but he turned right round and carried her back to Mr.
Pixleyses. And I s’pose Ardelia paid him, mebby as high as 75 cents. As
for Bial, he tramped off into the house, and she didn’t see him agin,
nor didn’t want to. Wall, I s’pose it wuz durin’ that ride on the
wheelbarrow, that Ardelia’s ambition quelled to softer emotions. I
s’pose so. She never owned it right up to me, but I s’pose so.
Bial Flamburg hadn’t lied a word to her. In all her agony she realized
that. But she had built a high towerin’ structure of ambition on what
he said, and it had tottered. And as is natural in times of danger, the
heart turns instinctively to its true love, she thought of Abram Gee,
she wanted him. And as if in answer to her deep and lovin’ thought, who
should come out to the buggy to help her out at Mr. Pixleyses gate, but
Abram Gee? He had come unexpected, and on the eight o’clock train, and
wuz there waitin’ for her.
If Bial Flamburg had been with her, he wouldn’t have gone a nigh the
buggy, but he see it was a old man, and he rushed out. Ardelia couldn’t
walk a step on her feet (owin’ to bein shaken up, in bones and
feelin’s), and Abram jest took her in his strong lovin’ arms and
carried her into the house, and she sort a clung round his neck, and
seemed tickled enough to see him,
But she wuz dretful shook up and agitated, and it wuzn’t till way along
in the night some time, that she wuz able to write a poem called, “a
lay on a wheelbarrow; or, the fallen one.”
Which I thought when I read it, wuz a good name for it, for truly she
had fell, and truly she had lay on it. Howsumever, Ardelia wrote that
jest because it wuz second nater to write poetry on every identical
thing she ever see or did.
She wuz glad enough to get rid of Bial Flamburg, and glad enough to go
back to her old love. Abram wuz too manly and tender to say a word to
Ardelia that night on the subject nearest to his heart. No, he see she
needed rest. But the next day, when they wuz alone together, I s’pose
he put the case all before her. All his warm burnin’ love for her, all
his jealousy, and his wretchedness while she wuz a waverin’ between
Banks and Bread, how his heart had been checked by the thought that
Bial would vault over him, and in the end hold him at a discount.
Why, I s’pose he talked powerful and melted Ardelia’s soft little heart
till it wuz like the softest kind of dough in his hands. And then he
went on tenderly to say, how he needed her, and how she could mould him
to her will. I s’pose he talked well, and eloquent, I s’pose so. Anyhow
she accepted him right there in full faith and a pink and white cambric
dress.
And they came over and told me about it in the afternoon P. M. And I
felt well and happy in my mind, and wished ’em joy with a full heart
and a willin’ mind.
They are both good creeters. And she bein’ so soft, and he so kinder
hardy and stout-hearted, I believe they will get along firstrate. And
when she once let her mind and heart free to think on him, she worships
him so openly and unreservedly (though soft), that I don’t, believe
there is a happier man in the hull country.
Wall, I lay out to give’em a handsome present when they be married,
which will be in the fall. Mother Gee (who has got as well as can be
expected) is goin’ to live with Susan. And I’m glad on’t. Mother Gee is
a good old female no doubt, but it is resky work to take a new husband
to live with, and when you take a mother-in-law too it adds to the
resk.
But she is goin’ to live with Susan; it is her prefference.
And Abram has done so well, that he has bought another five acres onto
his place, and is a goin’ to fix his house all over splendid before the
weddin’ day. And Ardelia is to go right from the altar to her home—it
is her own wishes.
She knows enough in her way, Ardelia duz. And she has a wisdom of the
heart which sometimes I think, goes fur ahead of the wisdom of the
head. And then agin, I think they go well together, wisdom of the head
and the heart too. (The times I think this is after readin’ her
poetry.)
But any way she will make Abram a good soft little wife, lovin’ and
affectionate always. And good land! he loves her to that extent that it
wouldn’t make no difference to him if she didn’t know enough to come in
when it rained. He would fetch her in, drippin’ and worship her, damp
or dry.
Them verses of Ardelia’s, that she handed me, by the Roller Coaster wuz
as follows—
“A LAY ON A ROLLER COASTER
“BY ARDELIA TUTT.
“Oh was thy track all straight, and smooth like glass
Thou couldest not mount the hills, and lo, the dells,
The hills and dells oh! Roller Coaster pass
In peace, believing all things well.
“The hills of life go down, and mount elate
We mount or sink on them, as case may be
All seated on the wagon seat of life—
A holdin’ on in peace, or screamin’ fearfulee.
“Hold then thy breath, and go, e’en up or down,
Hold to the seat, and hold to royal hope,
Hope for the best, so shalt thou wear a crown,
A clinging hope to hold, is better than a rope.
“Mount then the Mounts, Oh Roller Coaster mount,
And sink then in the dells with brow serene;
’Tis no disgrace to sink a spell, we count
Him coward, knave, who floats and calls it mean.”
Ardelia always will stand up for Josiah Allen, and I am glad on’t. I
should jest as soon be jealous of one of Josiah’s gingham neckties, one
of the thinnest and stringiest ones, as to be jealous of her. She means
well, Ardelia duz.