"Oh, Aunt Elissa! stay with us and spend the evening, why can't you!"
exclaimed Janie, Nelly, and Thanny, as the before-mentioned aunt entered
their cheerful little parlor one evening, after being absent some time.
"Stay and spend the evening! Bless your dear souls! no. Haven't I got to
go to the post office, and besides that, a hundred and one other errands
to do?"
"Never mind the post office, Aunt Lissa. Where's my hat? I'll run there
and back again in two minutes, and that will save you the trouble of
going. And never mind the errands either; you can come over in the
morning and do them; besides that we don't like to have our aunt going
about these dark evenings--she might get lost, or something might catch
her and carry her off, and then--"
"What then?"
"Why she wouldn't tell us any more stories."
"Away with you, you selfish things! that's as much as you care for me.
Now I'll go right home."
"Oh don't, don't! Run Thanny and shut the door, while I hold her, and
Nelly unties her bonnet. I don't care if she does scold."
"Go away! you wild birds. Haven't you been taught any better manners
than this? Strange your mother will let you act so! but there she sits,
sewing away as busily as ever, only looking up now and then, to smile,
as if she didn't care at all. Fie! for shame! There goes my bonnet and
shawl. Now Nelly, if you hide them, I'll never go over the hills with
you again. I have a great mind not to speak a word to one of you."
"Oh don't stop talking, for we want you to tell us a story." "A story!
why dear children, I can't begin with the first thought of a story
to-night; I feel so stupid and dull that it will be quite as much as I
can do to keep myself awake."
"Oh well, then we will have a dance, and that will wake you up. Here!
Away we go!"
"Stop! stop you merry elves! Oh my foot! Oh my hand! I would rather tell
you all the stories in the Arabian Nights, than go through one such
dance as this. Sit down now and be quiet, for if I have really got it to
do, I want to begin as soon as possible. Well, what shall I tell you
about, Janie?"
"Oh, anything you please."
[Illustration]
"There, now, that isn't any sort of an answer at all. What shall I tell
you about, Thanny?"
"Oh, tell us about a sailor boy, who wore a tarpaulin hat and a blue
jacket with a collar to it--and how he went to sea, and got shipwrecked
on an uninhabited, desert island, and _almost_ got drowned, but didn't
quite--and then, after a great many years, he came home one snow-stormy
night, and knocked at the door, with a bag full of dollars and a bunch
of cocoa nuts, and his old father and mother almost died of joy to see
him."
"Well done! But now that you know the whole of the story, it wont be of
any use for me to tell it over again. What shall I tell you about,
Nelly?"
"Tell us about something you used to do when you was a little girl."
"When I was a little girl? Ah yes: do you know that I used to be a wild
and careless creature, and did many things which I am sorry for now? I
would often act upon the impulse of the moment, therefore I said many
vain and foolish words, and though I did not intend evil, yet I often
committed thoughtless acts, which were, in themselves, very wrong. I did
not restrain that spirit as I ought to, so it grew upon me, until it
almost became a part of my nature, and now that I have grown up to be a
woman, and people expect better things of me--a word, a thought, or look
will call forth those feelings once more, even at times of the most
serious reflection; and then many call me light-minded and trifling. I
do not blame them, but in my heart I do not feel so. Take care of
yourselves in time, that you may not have these sorrowful fruits to
repent of. But I do not mean to preach you a sermon, instead of telling
a story. And now that you have reminded me of my earlier days, I will
tell you about a place called Acorn Hollow, for of all the spots that I
love to remember, this is one of the dearest to me."
"Where is it, Aunt Lissa?"
"It is about two miles from your grandfather's house, in the woods, at
the south part of the town. I have visited it at all times and seasons
of the year, but the first time I ever saw it was in the dead of
winter."
"Why, how happened that?"
"It was the 22d of December--the anniversary of the landing of the
Pilgrims, and there was to be a grand entertainment in the evening, to
which my older sisters were invited. They wanted some of the curly
ground pine, which keeps green all winter, to put with the flowers they
wore in their hair; and as brother Alfred was always famous for knowing
the whereabouts of all strange plants and wild flowers, he promised to
get them some. In the afternoon, Freddy Lucas, his friend and almost
constant companion, came, and as it was an uncommonly mild and pleasant
day for that season of the year, they asked me to go with them. I was
right glad to do so, and after adding one more to our party, Susan
Edwards, a dark-eyed, merry-hearted girl, we were soon scampering away
over the hills. There had been some very heavy rains, by which the sand
had been washed away from the hill-side, leaving deep and wide furrows
at the foot, which required all our skill to jump over, but we
determined not to be outdone by Alfred, who acted as pioneer; so we
continued to follow our leader, with many a laugh and tumble, until it
seemed we were going a great way, to get nowhere.
"At length we came to a little pond, far down among the hills, with
shrubs and rushes growing all around and into it. Alfred said this was
Turtle pond, where the boys often came Saturday afternoons to roast
potatoes and apples, and have a real frolic. He said, too, it would do
one's heart good to look upon these hills in the early spring time, for
then they were fairly blushing with the beautiful May flowers, which the
boys and girls who are working for the anti-slavery cause, take so much
pains to gather, and send to the Boston market. I asked him if this was
Acorn Hollow. 'Oh no,' said he, 'we must go through this pasture, and
the next one beyond it; then we shall see a cedar tree growing by the
fence, and soon we shall come to a place where two roads go round a
hill, and then we shall be close by there.'
"So we went, and went, till he stopped suddenly, and said, 'here it is.'
And sure enough, there was the beautiful hollow, close by the road-side.
The sides were so steep that it was by no means safe to run down into
it, and the great oak trees and the small ones, with the pine, the
walnut, and the silvery birch, grew thick and close all around, save
that one small opening from the road, a little archway among the
overhanging boughs and dwarf alders.
"Just below this opening there was one of the most lordly looking oak
trees that I ever saw. It was taller than any of the other trees, and
the trunk was so large, that when two of us children stood, one on each
side, and reached our arms around it we could only touch the tips of
each other's fingers. We had to hurry and get our ground pine, for the
days were very short, and it grew dark fast There was plenty of it
growing under the trees with another strange-looking evergreen, which
ran close to the ground, in long vines with little soft narrow leaves,
which felt like fur. The boys called it bear's grass. I don't think
that was the right name, but I never knew any other. After we had
trimmed up our caps and bonnets with the early leaves of pine, and made
ourselves tippets of the bear's grass, we hastened back again; but the
stars were in the sky, and the Gurnet lights were beaming brightly over
the waters, long before we reached our homes.
"After this we went there a great many times, for we were fond of
rambling in the woods, and almost everything which is usually found on
hilltop or valley, seemed to grow there. There were May flowers, violets
and anemonies, in spring time; box, whortle, and black berries, in
summer, and acorns and walnuts in autumn.
"One fourth of July, when soldiers were marching about the streets--boys
were firing crackers--dogs barking, and every body seemed just ready to
run crazy, Alfred, and Charlie, who was but a 'wee bit' of a boy, then,
with sister Una and myself, determined to make our escape from this
scene of confusion. We took a little basket of provision, with a hatchet
and a jug of water, and started for our favorite hollow. Often, in the
long winter evenings, we brothers and sisters would sit round the fire,
and tell what we would do when we grew up to be men and women. But there
was one thing which we always agreed upon, and it was this: that we
would all live together, in a little cottage in the woods, where we
could have plenty of room to move about in, and do just as we pleased.
Now we thought we had dreamed of this long enough and we determined to
have a little of the reality; so, as soon as we reached the hollow, we
began to build a bower with the branches which we cut from the trees
with our hatchet. We worked away very busily, for a long time, toiling
and sweating, yet all the time feeling never so happy. Oh, I do wish
that all you children, and a great many more beside, could have been
there with us, to see what a nice, pretty place it was, when it was
finished. Hiram of Tyre, in his stately palace of cedar, fir, and algum
wood, could not have felt prouder or happier than we did, in our little
sylvan bower.
"We spread a shawl on the ground, and laid our provisions upon it. Here
we sat and sung, and told stories, till we saw a great dark shadow
coming down the hill-side; and what do you suppose it was, Thanny?"
"Well I don't know, unless it was a great black bear, coming down to get
some of his grass for supper."
"Oh fie! No. What do you think it was, Nelly?"
"Wasn't it old Pan and Sylvanus, who were astonished to hear such a
noise in their woods?"
"No, you haven't got it right either. What do you say, Janie?"
"Well, I guess it was the shadows of evening, coming down the
hill-side."
"That's it--and we were very much surprised to find it so, for the time
had passed very quickly and pleasantly. We gathered up our things, and
started for home. But first we stopped under the old acorn-tree, and
sung 'a song to the oak, the brave old oak.' We didn't know the right
tune, and so we sung it to the air of 'there is nae luck about the
house.' It wasn't the music we cared so much about, as the beautiful
words, they were so pretty and appropriate.
"Well, we did not go into the woods much, after this, for we had a great
many other things to take up our minds. Charlie and I went to school,
and father needed Alfred to help him all the time.
"I have told you how we found the hollow and how much we enjoyed
ourselves there; now I will tell you what became of it."
"What became of it! Why! did it catch afire and burn up?"
"No."
"Did it blow away in a strong north wind?"
"No."
"Did it get filled up with dust and dry leaves, or did you forget the
way there, and never find it again? What _did_ become of it?"
"Well, let me tell you. It was one of those beautiful spring days--when
we feel that we cannot possibly stay at home, and our feet will run
away with us, in spite of ourselves--that the old spirit and desire for
rambling came over us once more, and away we started for the woods.
'Which way will you go?' said Alfred as we stopped at a place where two
roads led in different directions. 'Acorn Hollow,' was the answer of
all; and accordingly we went that way. But oh, wonder of wonders! How we
stood by the once loved spot, and stared at each other, and rubbed our
eyes, and looked again and again. Where were the beautiful trees that
grew so closely side by side, intermingling their foliage, and locking
their arms together like loving brothers and sisters? Where was the
'brave old oak,' that had stood there with his broad green arms
outstretched, and shook his myriad leaves whenever we came, as if he
loved us children, and welcomed us to a resting-place in his shadow. And
where was the soft green carpet of moss and tender grass that was spread
out so beautifully at the bottom of the hollow? It was all changed, as
if the breath of an evil spirit had blown upon it. 'Isn't it too bad!'
we all exclaimed; and after we had given expression to our feelings by
these few words, we proceeded to a closer examination. All the trees
along the hill-side had been cut down, and little piles of wood were put
up, to carry away. The May flowers were all dried up in the sun, and the
ground pine and bear's grass were as sere and yellow as the autumn
leaves. Down in the bottom of the hollow, the turf had been cut up and
carried off, and there lay the bones of an old horse bleaching in the
sun. There was only a little stump left of the acorn tree, with a few
withered branches. 'Isn't it a sin, and a shame!' said Alfred,
indignantly. 'I never want to come here again,' murmured Charlie; and I
sat down on the stump and cried. If all the world had been looking at me
I couldn't have helped it.
"Then I thought how strangely everything was changing around me. Nothing
appeared the same to me, save the sun and stars and the broad blue sea.
Father and mother, brothers and sisters, and the great world itself,
were all changing. I too was changed. Time and study, with daily trial,
were making me an altogether different being from what I had been, and I
knew that the finger of the Almighty was writing lessons upon my heart,
which I could never forget; no, not through all eternity. I wept; and
then a truth--a great and a good one--rose in my heart, like the morning
star, for I knew, at that moment, that all these changes were but the
lessons which the angel teachers are giving us, to fit us for higher
duties in the world to come. The memory of that beautiful spot is as
fresh and fair in my heart as ever, and the lesson which I learned there
has had a blessed influence upon my life; for now, when I feel sad and
disheartened, I strive to keep my eye fixed on the great point to which
we all tend, forgetting the little sorrows that lie between. And I hear
the calm sweet voice of him who died on Calvary, saying, 'fear not; I am
thy friend and brother. I too have dwelt in the flesh and know its
conflicts and trials; trust in me, for I am the same, yesterday, to-day,
and forever.'
"Hark! don't I hear the clock strike?--eight, nine, ten. O, naughty
children! when I only came in here to stop ten minutes; and now you have
kept me here till ten o'clock! Only think how dark it is, and what a
long way over to the green. I guess you will be sorry, if you should
hear, in the morning, that I had walked off the bridge into the
mill-brook, or fallen into the cistern on the Green."
"Oh aunt Lissa! as if there wasn't any fence to the bridge, and a cover
on the cistern, with a stone on it. You needn't try to frighten us in
that way."
"Well then, let me go, lest grandmother should feel frightened; but
first you must pay me for telling you a story."
"Well, how much do you ask?"
"Oh, not much; only a kiss from each of you."
"That you may have and welcome, and as many as you please."
"Good night."