NEW FRIENDS.
THE day but one after Edah's expedition to Raeburn, she was at work in
the little parlor, engaged in cutting out some garments for Pauline,
who was sitting conning her spelling-book, in which she had made
considerable progress sines her illness. Mrs. Champlin rarely left her
room till after dinner, and Susan had gone out to do some errand in the
village. Suddenly Pauline uttered an exclamation—
"See, sister, what a beautiful carriage is stopping here, with two
ladies in it, and a black man driving, and they are getting out! What
beautiful horses!"
Edah looked out; and recognized Captain Laurence's carriage, which she
had seen at the church door the Sunday before, and she saw that Mrs.
and Miss Laurence were preparing to descend. Hastily drawing her work
into smaller compass, and glancing at the little glass to see that her
own dress was in order, she advanced to the door to meet them, followed
by Pauline, whose ordinary shyness was conquered by her curiosity.
Mrs. Laurence had been pleased with Edah's appearance the Sunday
before, but she was not altogether prepared to find her so finished and
graceful in her manners as she now appeared.
After a few minutes conversation, Edah excused herself, and went up
stains to call her mother, but Mrs. Champlin declined descending,
and, indeed, the bare idea seemed to throw her into such a flutter of
nervous agitation that Edah did not press the matter, but went back to
her visitors.
She found Mrs. Laurence talking to Pauline, and Annie looking at the
books on the table—mostly her own property, and among which were
several French and German volumes.
"Do you read German, Miss Champlin?"
"Yes," replied Edah; "I have rather a passion for it just now, and
brought some new books with me, but, as you may imagine, I have had but
little time for reading."
"You must persuade Miss Champlin to come and help you out of some of
your difficulties, Annie," remarked Mrs. Laurence. "My girls and boys
are quite German-mad just now, but having no teacher, they do not make
very rapid progress. Have you made many acquaintances here?"
"Very few," replied Edah. "Some of the neighbors were very kind during
Pauline's illness, but I have scarcely been out at all. I should not
imagine that there was much society here, from what I have heard and
seen. I feel the want of a church more than any thing."
"Yes, it is a great pity that there is none here. Mr. Willson has
sometimes held a service in the school-house, and I believe it has been
well attended; but his health is not very strong, and he has charge of
two parishes already, so he cannot do much for Brooksville. I believe
there is not even a Sunday School here at present."
"Sam told me, Miss Laurence, that you had one at the Mills every Sunday
afternoon," said Edah, "and I have been quite desirous to hear more
about it. Will you tell me something of your mode of proceeding?"
"Oh, it is very simple. I began with about ten children who lived in
the immediate neighborhood, and who met me in the district school-house
every Sunday afternoon. Now my number has increased to forty, some of
whom live at quite a distance. We meet at three o'clock in summer, and
at two in winter, and after prayers and singing, I hear them recite
lessons of three or four verses from the New Testament, often setting
the older children to hear the younger ones, and I ask them questions,
and explain to them the lesson for the following Sunday. Then comes a
short recess, after which they recite the Apostles Creed and some part
of the Commandments, and then comes singing again. They then exchange
their books, or take their little papers, and go home. Our whole
session lasts about two hours."
"Do you not find it difficult to fix the attention of so many?" asked
Edah.
"I have had very little trouble thus far, and, indeed, I have succeeded
beyond my hopes. Many of the parents have become interested in the
undertaking, and drop in towards the close of school, ostensibly, of
course, to take Billy or Nancy home with them, so I often have quite
a congregation. I find it something of a trial to stand up and speak
before so many; but I do not like to discourage their coming, and so I
keep on, though I often wish that some gentleman would take my place."
"I think the school has done a great deal of good," remarked Mrs.
Laurence. "It has been the means of bringing a good many families to
church, and under the influence of the Rector, who could have been
reached in no other way."
"If I were likely to remain here, I think I would try to begin
something of the kind," said Edah; "but my stay is very uncertain.
Polly dear, there is sister Susan coming in: go and ask her to come
here."
Susan entered the room, after she had disposed of her bonnet and shawl,
and Edah presented her to the ladies. But all Mrs. Laurence's kind
attempts to draw her into conversation were unavailing: she preserved
an absolute silence, or replied only in monosyllables. At last, the
visitors rose to go, not, however, before it was arranged that Edah
should come over the next Saturday, and spend Sunday at Spring Bank.
"We shall send the carriage for you early on Saturday," said Miss
Laurence, "and you may expect to be attacked with grammars and
dictionaries the moment you enter the house. Poor Addison will be quite
comforted at the prospect of some relief, for I left him in a fit of
black despair over a scene in Wallenstein."
Edah laughed, and promised to render all the assistance in her power to
the distressed young gentleman, and the ladies finally departed.
"Mrs. Laurence left her kind regards for you, mother," said Edah,
entering her mother's room, "and hopes she shall have the pleasure of
seeing you at Spring Bank as soon as you are well enough."
"I am much obliged to her, I am sure," god Mrs. Champlin, rather
shortly.
"They are very condescending indeed," said Susan; "we might have lived
here to the end of time without their troubling themselves about us, if
you had not come."
"That is hardly fair, Susan," returned her mother. "Mrs. Laurence came
and called on me when I was first married, and invited us there, but
we never went, even to return their calls. I always felt as if they
were quite too grand for me to associate with, but if they have taken a
liking to Edah, I am glad of it, for it will give her some society such
as she is used to."
"Well, for my part, I don't like to be patronized," said Susan, rather
sharply.
"I am sure Mrs. Laurence's manners are not at all patronizing," said
Edah; "and certainly she did her best to be polite to you, but you
would not say a word. I was really vexed with you."
"You wanted me to display my ignorance and awkwardness as a set-off to
your elegance, I suppose," said Susan; "but I knew better."
"For shame, Susan; you are really downright uncivil to Edah."
"Edah gets plenty of flattery without my help," replied Susan. "She
would be quite spoiled, if I did not contradict her sometimes."
"Thank you, Susan," returned Edah, laughing good-humoredly, though the
color had risen at her sister's rudeness. "I don't think you will ever
do much harm in that way; if I did not know that your bark was worse
than your bite, as Ruby-Anne elegantly says, I should be really afraid
of you. But have you any objections to my accepting the invitation,
mother?"
"Not at all, my dear; I shall be very glad to have you go. The
Laurences are really excellent people, and very fond of books and all
such things, and you will enjoy yourself very much."
The week passed quickly away, as it always does with busy people, and
Edah was busy enough just now in replenishing Pauline's wardrobe, and
in helping Susan to refit hers, which was scanty enough. Edah would
have been glad to be permitted to furnish her with some materials for
new garments, but this Susan steadily refused.
"You do as much as you ought, and more than your share, in clothing
Pauline. Father knows how much I am in want of clothes, for I have told
him time and again, but he finds it pleasanter to spend what money he
gets in liquor and cigars than to lay it out for his family. It is a
sin and a shame, and it's a wonder if I don't tell him some day."
"Pray don't," said Edah; "you would only make things worse."
"I don't suppose it will do any good; but it is enough to drive one mad
to see him losing his time, and wasting what little he does earn, while
we are really suffering for the necessaries of life. But as for having
you spend all your money in buying things for us, I won't, and that's
all about it: not but that I am very much obliged to you for the offer."
After some consideration, Edah made up her mind to speak to her
father herself upon the subject of Susan's wardrobe, and she took an
opportunity when they were alone together one afternoon.
"Father," said she, "do you know that Susan has hardly clothes enough
to make her comfortable?"
"Why don't she go to work, and make some then," asked her father,
lighting his cigar.
"She has nothing to make them of, and no money to buy materials,"
replied Edah.
"Let her set about something useful, and earn them then. She is old
enough to provide for herself instead of hanging about doing nothing
from morning till night."
"Doing nothing?" said Edah indignantly; but recollecting herself, she
went on quietly. "I do not think you have any idea how much work it is
to take care of mother and the baby. It is one person's work to attend
to them, and Polly needs almost as much care just now as Eddy."
"You make a perfect fool of that child, running after her so much,"
exclaimed her father, angrily: "as for your mother, she is more
notional than any thing. If she had any energy, she would be well
enough."
Edah's temper had nearly reached the boiling point; she dared not
speak, lest she should say something very unbecoming, and prudently
kept silence.
"If Sue is so very destitute, why don't you make over some of your own
finery to her? I am sure you are well enough provided, and old Liston
has nothing to do but to buy you more, when that is gone. He can well
afford to let us have some of the money he has cheated his clients out
of."
Edah's indignation would certainly have boiled over at these words, but
on looking at her father, she saw that he was excited by drinking. She
took up her work, and was going out of the room, when he called her
back.
"Don't be in such a hurry," he said. "If the girl wants clothes, she
must have them, I suppose. There are five dollars for her, and she must
make it do as well as she can, for it is all she will get from me. If
she wants more, she must go to work and earn it."
Edah took the bill, and thanked her father, though it was rather
difficult for her to do it with a good grace.
As soon as she had composed herself a little, she showed the money to
Susan, proposing that they should go out directly, and buy what was
most needed. Susan joyfully consented, and they set out on a shopping
expedition, which was not very extensive in its range, as there were
only two shops in the place.
Susan showed a great deal of prudence in disposing of her small amount
of money, and Edah, who had never been accustomed to any exact economy,
was surprised to see how far five dollars might be made to stretch.
The rest of the day was spent in cutting out work and sewing. Sam came
in while they were busy.
"I wish you would give me some sewing," he exclaimed; "you seem to be
having such a nice time over it."
"Suppose you get a book and read to us," said Edah; "that will help us
a great deal. I can sew twice as fast with some one reading."
"That is a good idea," remarked Susan: "do, Sam, there's a good fellow,
and you shall have some pancakes and maple sugar for your supper."
Sam took his book accordingly, and the afternoon passed very pleasantly
for all parties. Susan provided the promised pancakes, which were
pronounced capital, and the reading was resumed in the evening, Edah
herself taking the book, when Sam appeared tired.
"How beautifully you read!" said Mrs. Champlin. "It is a real pleasure
to hear you."
"There, mother," said Sam, laughing, "you never said a word about my
reading."
"Oh, well! You do the best you can, and that is all one can expect; but
I suppose you don't pretend to come up to Edah."
"Indeed, I think Sam reads very nicely," said Edah, "and he has
certainly been very obliging this afternoon. But it is bedtime—"
looking at her watch: "How fast the evening has gone! Suppose," she
added, with some hesitation, "we finish our reading with a chapter from
the Bible."
"A good thought!" said her mother. "Sam, bring your sister the book."
Edah selected a chapter from the New Testament, and read it aloud. No
remarks were made at its conclusion, and after a moment's silence, the
party separated, Edah feeling quite satisfied with the way in which the
day had been passed.
Two hours later she heard her father's step at the door, and knew
but too well in what condition he was likely to be. She was about
descending to let him in, and had put on her wrapper for that purpose,
when she heard Sam go down, and by mingled force and entreaties,
persuade his father to lie down on the sofa instead of going into
his mother's room. Poor Sam! It was not the first time he had been a
witness of his father's degradation.
Edah no longer wondered at her mother's frequent irritability and
constant depression of spirits, and she resolved to do all in her
power, while she remained at home, to lighten the burden which weighed
her down. She prayed, though with an almost despairing faith, for
her father's reformation and conversion, and then lying down, she
endeavored to forget her troubles in sleep.
By nine o'clock on Saturday morning, the carriage was at the door to
convey her to Spring Bank, and bidding her friends good-by, she seated
herself in the roomy family barouche, and was soon at the door of Mr.
Laurence's substantial, old-fashioned stone house. Miss Laurence and
her brother came to the door to welcome her, and conducted her into the
parlor. Edah felt herself restored, as it were, to her native air. The
handsome curtains and carpets, the rich old-fashioned furniture, the
piano, and the numerous books and portfolios scattered about the large
apartments, all seemed like old friends.
Louisa Laurence, the lame sister, was fully as attractive in her
appearance as the other ladies of the family, and Edah felt herself at
once at home.
After a few minutes' conversation, Edah was shown to her bedroom, and
having refreshed herself by a bath and a change of dress, she descended
once more to the parlor. This room opened, with large long windows,
upon a wide piazza, from which a terraced bank descended nearly to the
margin of the river, which here rolled its clear waters in a winding
course through beautiful meadows, dotted here and there with large
trees, and speckled with grazing cattle and young horses. The view was
limited by high pine-covered hills, of no very friendly aspect, which
shut in the valley on all sides, and seemed to leave no place for the
river to get out.
The young people were soon engaged in a German lesson, and between
reading, laughing, and talking, the hours passed swiftly away till
dinner-time, when Captain Laurence made his appearance. He was a tall,
stately old gentleman, with fine manners, and a noble head and face,
and Edah was greatly taken with him at first sight.
After dinner, the youthful party sallied out to explore the grounds,
and especially to visit the spring, from which the place took its
name. This spring poured out in a copious stream from among some
loosely-piled rocks, about half-way down the natural terrace on which
the house was situated, and ran with a broad and clear but shallow
current across the meadow into the river. The spring itself was
protected from the approach of cattle by a pretty rustic railing, and
seats of the same character were placed around it, under the shade of
some fine old forest-trees that overhung the rippling waters.
"What a lovely spot!" exclaimed Edah.
"This spot, you must know, Miss Champlin, is my sister's sanctum,"
said Addison Laurence, in a tone of mock earnestness. "In this sacred
inclosure, visited only by singing birds and gentle breezes, and
serenaded by the murmuring murmur of the murmuring stream, she spends
her hours in pensive retirement, far from the vulgar cares—"
"Now, Addison, hold your peace! This tormenting brother of mine, Miss
Champlin, takes it upon him to hold me up as the most sentimental of
young ladies, whereas I am one of the most active, bustling, practical
housewives in this world, as he knows right well. But because I have
once or twice chosen to walk out here by moonlight, he represents me as
a perfect Lydia Languish."
"You do not look much like it, that is certain," retorted her brother,
laughing. "What with your long walks and your pony-rides, you more
resemble Miss Hoyden."
"If a love of moonlight be a symptom of sentimentalism, I must plead
guilty to the charge myself," said Edah. "I should like to see this
prospect as it looked by moonlight fifty years ago."
"You would have seen a wild plain," returned Addison, "and instead
of the lowing of cows and the bleating of sheep, you might chance to
be serenaded by a panther crouched in the lower limbs of that old
oak, or a chorus of wolves from the neighboring swamp. Even within my
recollection, the wolves have come down within a mile of the house, and
I well remember hearing their doleful music on many a still winter's
night."
"What is it like?" asked Edah.
"Like no other noise you ever heard. It is worth while to hear them
for once, for the sake of knowing what fearful sounds can be produced
by brutal organs. But if you love wolf stories, Miss Champlin, you
must persuade my father to tell you some of his early experiences in
this country; and now, Miss Languish, it is time we were retracing our
steps, if we are to reach home before dark."
The evening was spent delightfully to Edah, between music, lively
conversation, and the wolf and Indian stories of the old Captain, who
was delighted with having a new listener to his oft repeated tales.
Edah was much pleased with the manners of these young people towards
their parents and each other. Annie seemed to devote herself especially
to Louisa, watching her every motion, anticipating her wants, and
hardly, as it seemed, giving her time to form a wish, while Louisa, on
her part, seemed fully to appreciate her sister's kindness. She did
not, as is some times the case with confirmed invalids, receive every
attention as only her due, nor was she indifferent to the trouble she
caused to those about her. The deformity of her figure was not at all
observable, except when she walked; and as she sat in her large chair,
Edah thought she had never a more lovely picture of gentle contentment.
As the clock struck ten, the music suspended, and the work put away.
Addison brought a small table to the side of his father's chair, upon
which he placed a Bible and Prayer-Book. The servants were called in,
and after the singing of the evening hymn, in which all joined, Captain
Laurence read a chapter in the New Testament, and then all united in
prayer.
Edah's thoughts wandered a little. She could not help contrasting
the household in which she then was with that to which she must soon
return, and the wish arose in her mind that the lines had fallen to her
in as pleasant places as they seemed to have done to Annie Laurence.
"We breakfast in good season on Sunday morning, Miss Champlin," said
Mrs. Laurence, as they separated for the night, "in order that the
servants may be able to go to church, if they wish."
"And we dine in good season, that Annie may have time to go to her
ragged-school at the Mills," added Addison. "I presume, Miss Champlin,
you will be expected to visit that wonderful institution, and hear my
pious sister hold forth like a preaching woman-Friend to lumbermen and
their dirty ragged children."
"I hope to do so, at any rate, if your sister will permit me," said
Edah, feeling that she did not like the superfine Mr. Laurence any the
better for this speech. "I am very much interested in the account she
has given me of her labors there."
"Oh, there is no fear but she will let you. She is as proud of her
school as my father of his colts and young cattle—only the colts are
the more respectable of the two."
"You must not mind what Addison says," said Annie, laughing, though
Edah thought she seemed a little hurt. "He gave me ten dollars to
provide books and so forth for my ragged regiment, without my even
asking him."
"Why, as long as you persist in spending your time so, I think it is
better to do the thing creditably; and after all, it is a harmless
amusement enough. Everybody likes to have something to patronize—it is
human nature!"
"But not the nature of Mr. Addison Laurence, I suppose," said Louisa.
"Oh, I bestow it all on my horses and dogs, saving what little I find
it desirable to expend on yourself, my fair lady. But I must needs be
allowed my liberty at present, for when Dick comes home, the majority
will be so strong against ma that I shall not dare to open my mouth
from one week's end to another."
"If you keep silence for an hour at a time, it will be what you have
never done in your life before," said his mother; "and now please
to take your candle and disappear. You have illustrated yourself
sufficiently for one night."
Edah did not feel at all sleepy when she reached her room, and she sat
down to think over the events of the day. What a long day it seemed!
She could hardly bring herself to believe that she had been only twelve
hours at Spring Bank, and she began already to dread the time when she
must return to her father's house. This feeling increased as she went
on contrasting the two families in her mind, and she began to feel as
if it were impossible for her to return to Brooksville to live.
"But how foolish I am!" she said, rousing herself from her reverie. "If
this is the way I am going to be affected by the visit, I had better
have stayed at home."
Then repressing by a strong effort any further indulgence in the same
train of thought, she fixed her mind upon her Bible reading, and after
praying especially to be delivered from the temptations of wishing to
lay down the cross, she soon fell asleep.
The bell rung in good season next morning, but Edah was up and dressed
before it sounded, and when she descended to the drawing-room, there
was no one there. She was standing at the open window, enjoying the
beautiful view, and drinking in the fresh morning air, when Annie
joined her.
"I have been looking for you," she said, kissing her, "but you are
too prompt for me. Is not this prospect beautiful under the morning
sun? How strange it is that people can prefer to shut themselves up in
cities, when they can have such beautiful sights and sounds, at so much
less expense."
"But in winter," said Edah, "do you not feel it rather dismal here when
these hills are covered with snow? I should think they would then be
rather unfriendly in their aspect."
"Not to me," replied Annie. "I was born and brought up among them, and
these bristling pine tops, which look so dreary to strangers, always
seem to welcome me back, like old friends, when I have been away a
while. Before the railroad was made, indeed, we were a good deal out
of the way of society in winter, but we had a very large family at
home then, and a governess to keep us at work. If we did not get many
new books, we made the most of what we had; and though our papers and
letters were often two weeks old before they reached us, they were all
the more welcome when they came. But now that my sisters are married,
and Henry and Dick are away, we do not regret that the means of
communication are more easy."
"Then you have other brothels and sisters besides Miss Louisa and Mr.
Laurence!"
"Dear me, yes! Did you not know it? I have two married sisters living
in Boston, and two brothers older than Addison. Henry is in the Navy,
and Richard is studying in New York. He will be ordained in the fall,
and then he is coming home to make a visit. I hope you will see him. He
is very different from Addison, who pretends to stand in great awe of
him. Harry has been away so much that I scarcely feel acquainted with
him. He has a sweet little wife, who usually spends her summers with
us, but she is on the sea-coast this year. And now you have our family
picture-gallery displayed, and my exposition is ended in good season,
for there is the bell. We will go into the breakfast-room, if you
please."
All the family, including the servants, were collected in the
breakfast-room, as our two young ladies entered, and as soon as they
had taken their seats, prayers and a lesson were read by Captain
Laurence as before. Addison made his appearance when breakfast was half
over, apparently in no very good humor.
"Do you not think, Miss Champlin, that it is a barbarous practice to
have breakfast so early on Sundays?" he said, as he took his seat.
"On the contrary, it seems to me a very good arrangement," replied
Edah; "especially when one lives at a distance from church, as it
leaves the servants time to get ready."
"Much they care about it," muttered the young gentleman. "But really
now, don't you think the human constitution was originally so formed as
to require an extra quantity of sleep every seventh day?"
"I shall not dispute the point," said Edah, good-humoredly; "I can only
say it is not so with mine."
"Oh, I see the girls have gained you over to their side entirely. The
majority against me was bad enough before; it is overwhelming now. I
have no longer any thing for it, but to confess myself a heathen man
and a publican. Mamma, I am ready to rise at three, next Sunday, if it
so please you."
"Half-past seven will do for a beginning, my son; and now, if you have
finished your coffee, we will adjourn, for I see it is verging towards
nine o'clock."
The ladies rode to church in the barouche, while Captain Laurence and
his son followed on horseback. Edah was much pleased to see Sam waiting
for her in the porch, when they descended from the carriage.
"How are all at home?" she asked, as she shook hands with him.
"All about as usual," replied Sam. "I heard baby cry a good deal in the
night, and Polly has completely wearied us all, asking when you will be
home."
"Allow me to introduce you to my brother Samuel, Mrs. Laurence," said
Edah, presenting him to that lady.
Mrs. Laurence shook hands with him kindly, as did also Mr. Laurence and
Addison.
"Will you not return to Spring Bank to dinner?" asked Mrs. Laurence.
"We shall be very happy to have you do so. I have often observed your
brother in church, Miss Champlin, and have been desirous to make his
acquaintance. You must come with your sister, Master Samuel, and make
us a visit."
"And then, if you like fishing, we will find some first-rate trout
streams," added Addison; "though I dare say you know all in the
neighborhood already."
Sam expressed his thanks, not at all awkwardly, but said he must return
home after church, as he would be wanted.
Edah felt proud and pleased to see him appear so well, and to perceive
that he had made a favorable impression, for she had grown very fond of
the boy. There was a good deal of staring and whispering, as she took
her seat with the Laurence family, and she began to think she must be a
person of considerable importance.
Mr. Willson was not a remarkably talented preacher, and his manner was
not impressive; but Edah was pleased and interested with the sermon,
which was both plain and practical. She could not help thinking that
it must be very hard work to preach to such a listless, inattentive
congregation, and she thought of a remark she had once heard a
clergyman make:
"People are loud in their demands for smart preachers," he said, "but
they never reflect that preachers have an equal desire for smart
hearers."
In the Laurence family, however, he had as attentive listeners as any
one could desire.
They dined early, as Addison had prophesied, and then Annie invited
Edah to accompany her to her school, an invitation which she gladly
accepted, and they were soon on their way "across lots," as we say in
the country, preferring the green meadows and river banks to the dusty
high-road. Mr. Laurence had taken the pains to have several gates made,
and some bridges built over the little streams in the way, for Annie's
accommodation, for he was very proud of his daughter's earnestness,
though he sometimes professed to think that she carried it a little too
far.
A walk of half a mile brought them to a small stone school-house, on
the banks of a pretty rapid stream, which came down to meet the river,
and on which were built a flouring-mill and two saw-mills.
A number of children were already collected around the door and under
the trees which shaded it, and more were seen coming along the road,
or over the fields, all hastening not to be late. Annie went round
among them, calling them all by name, and inquiring after fathers and
mothers, aunts, sisters, and grand-parents, till Edah wondered how
she could remember so many different names. Looking at her watch,
she announced that it was time to begin school, and accordingly the
children flocked into the school-house, and seated themselves in an
orderly manner—two or three tall girls seeming to take a certain
supervision of the littler ones.
There were about thirty present in all. The exercises commenced by
calling the roll, to which the children responded. At the name of the
first absentee, Annie stopped:
"Has any one seen Nancy Wood to-day?"
"I see'd her as I was a-coming along," responded a little white-headed,
bare-footed Irish boy, "and she said she would not come to-day, because
her daddy was sick; but she wanted me to tell you she knew her lesson,
and would you please send her a book, and I am to tell her what is the
next lesson."
Pat seemed quite abashed at having made such a long speech, and hid his
face behind his sister as he concluded.
"Nancy shall have a book," said Annie, smiling, "and I am much obliged
to Patrick for offering to take it to her;" at which Pat held up his
head again, and appeared very highly delighted.
After the roll was called, Annie read a few verses from the New
Testament, and then the children united with her in the Lord's Prayer,
which they all repeated distinctly, and with decent propriety, which
might shame some more educated boys and girls. Then began the lessons.
Annie divided the school into two classes, and giving one to Edah,
proceeded to hear the other herself. Edah was surprised at the
correctness with which the verses constituting the day's lesson
were repeated, and still more, upon questioning them, to find them
displaying such knowledge of the Bible generally.
"It is almost their only book," said Annie, upon Edah's remarking this
to her afterwards, "and they become very fond of reading it. In my
visits among them, they often bring their Bibles to me for explanations
of difficult passages, and, I assure you, I am often puzzled how to
answer their questions."
When all the lessons were recited, Annie gave them a short recess,
saying, as she did so—
"I know I need not tell you not to make a noise, and not to go away
from the door."
At the end of ten minutes, they were again called in by the bell, and
took their seats as before, but with the addition of two or three
stout-looking men, and several women, who sat down near the door. These
were the fathers and mothers of some of the children, who had walked
some of them two or three miles, as they said, to see their little ones
safe home.
Annie took her station behind the teacher's desk, and after giving
out the lesson for the next Sunday, proceeded to explain it in simple
terms, with such illustrations and anecdotes as were likely to make an
impression on their minds. Her voice, which trembled a little at first,
soon became firm, and she seemed to forget that she had any other
listeners than the children.
Edah observed that more than one of her grown-up auditors seemed
considerably affected, especially one rough-looking man, with shaggy
beard and whiskers, and accompanied by a dog as shaggy as himself.
The Apostles' Creed was now repeated by all the children standing, and
the services closed by the singing of a hymn and the distribution of
library books, two or three of the women taking books or tracts for
themselves. The children were then dismissed, and quietly took their
way home, comparing their books and talking as they went. The bearded
man lingered a few minutes about the door, and Edah thought he seemed
desirous of speaking to her companion, so she walked to the other end
of the room, and busied herself in putting in order the library books,
which were contained in a neat case, with a lock and key.
After a few moments she heard Annie say:
"I wish you would go and talk to Mr. Willson, Mr. Van Dake. He would
gladly give you all the instruction you want, and do it much better
than I can."
"I kind of hate to!" said Long John, twisting his cap in his hands.
"The parson's always dressed so nice, and every thing about him is as
fine as a fiddle, and I am such a rough customer—"
"Did you ever know him refuse to go anywhere or do any thing for any
one?" interrupted Annie. "Don't you remember how he used to go up to
Brunker's last winter, day after day, when their boy broke his leg?"
"He did, that's a fact," said John. "The parson's a clever man, I don't
deny. The truth is, I believe, I am afraid folks will laugh to see me
running after such things."
"But that is not right," returned Annie. "'The fear of man bringeth a
snare,' the Bible says; and besides," she added, smiling, "I should
think a man who had killed a bear and two panthers, fighting hand to
hand, need not be afraid of a few people in Raeburn!"
Long John colored through his bronzed skin.
"I am a fool to mind it, and no mistake!" said he. "Well, Miss Annie, I
believe I'll take your advice, and go to the minister. I wonder what my
good old mother would say to see me in Sunday School. But better late
than never, they say," and with a bow, which was not at all awkward, he
departed, followed by his dogs, and leading his little daughter by the
hand.
"That is a curious personage," said Annie, as they walked back to
Spring Bank. "He lives in a little hut on the mountain yonder, with
no companions but this little child and his dogs, and an old but
white-headed negro woman, who is his housekeeper. At first, he sturdily
refused to let Agnes come to the school, but she finally coaxed
permission, and came with some children of their nearest neighbor—a
very decent Scotch family. After a while, he used to come and wait for
her at the door, and finally I persuaded him to come in and sit down.
Now he is as regular in his attendance as any of the children, has left
off drinking and swearing, never hunts on a Sunday, and I hope he is
in a fair way of becoming a Christian man. We must persuade Addison
to ride up there with us some time: his hut is a perfect curiosity,
and there is a splendid view from it. He found out from Addison last
spring, that Louisa was fond of painting wild-flowers, and hardly a
week has passed since then that he has not brought her a splendid
bouquet. I must show you her portfolio."
The rest of the day passed pleasantly and quietly, and the next
afternoon Edah was conveyed back to Brooksville, as she steadily
refused the pressing invitations of her friends to spend another day.
Mrs. Laurence placed in the carriage a basket containing some beautiful
fruit and other delicacies for Mrs. Champlin, and Annie sent Pauline
two or three little books, which her little nieces had left behind the
summer before.
She found all at home glad to see her, especially Sam and Pauline.
Susan was a little inclined to be sullen at first, but she relented at
the sight of the basket which Mrs. Laurence had sent her mother, and
allowed that they were indeed very kind. Pauline was pleased with her
books, and delighted to see her sister again; and on the whole Edah did
not find it so difficult to reconcile herself to her return as she had
at first feared.