AUNT INDIANA'S PROPHECIES.
Jasper heard the local stories at the smithy and at Aunt Indiana's with
intense interest. To him they furnished a study of the character of the
people. They were not like stories of beautiful spiritual meaning that
he had been accustomed to hear at Marienthal, at Weimar, and on the
Rhine. The tales of Richter, Haupt, Hoffman, and Baron Fouque could
never have been created here. These new settlements called for the
incident or joke that represented a practical fact, and not the
soul-growth of imagination. The one question of education was, "Can you
cipher to the rule of three?" and of religion, "Have you found the
Lord?" The favorite tales were of Indians, bears, and ghosts, and the
rough hardships that overcome life. Jasper heard these tales with a
sympathetic heart.
The true German story is a parable, a word with a soul. Jasper loved
them, for the tales of a people are the heart of a people, and express
the progress of culture and opinion.
One day, as Jasper was cobbling at Aunt Olive's, he sought to teach her
a lesson of contentment by a German household story. Johnnie Kongapod
had come in, and the woman was complaining of her hard and restricted
life.
"Aunt Indiana," said Jasper, "do you have fairies here?"
"Never have seen any. We don't spin air here in America."
"We have fairies in Germany. All the children there pass through
fairy-land. There once came a fairy to an old couple who were
complaining, like you."
"Like me? I'm the contentedest woman in these parts. 'Tis no harm to
wish for what you haven't got."
"There came a fairy to them, and said:
"'You may have three wishes. Wish.'
"The old couple thought:
"'We must be very wise,' said the woman, 'and not make any mistake,
since we can only wish three times. I wish I had a pudding.'
"Immediately there came a pudding upon the table. The poor woman was
greatly surprised.
"'There, you see what you have done by your foolish wishing!' said the
man.
"'One of our opportunities has gone,' said the woman. 'We have but two
chances left. We must be _wiser_.'
"They sat and looked into the fire. The fairy had disappeared from the
hearth, and there were only embers and ashes there.
"The man grew angry that his wife had lost one of their opportunities.
"'Nothin' but a pudding!' said he. 'I wish that that miserable pudding
were hung to your nose!'
"The pudding leaped from the table and hung at the end of the old
woman's nose.
"'There!' said she, 'now you see what you have done by your foolish
wishing.'
"The old man sighed. 'We have but one wish left. We must now be the
wisest people in all the world.'
"They watched the dying embers, and thought. As they did so, the pudding
grew heavy at the end of the old woman's nose. At last she could endure
it no longer.
"'Oh!' she said, 'how I wish that pudding was off again!'
"The pudding disappeared, and the fairy was gone."
"'Tain't true," said Aunt Indiana.
"Yes," said Jasper, "what is true to life is true. Stories are the
alphabet of life."
Johnnie Kongapod had listened to the tale with delight. Aunt Indiana
knew that no fairy would ever appear on her hearth, but Johnnie was not
so sure.
"I've seen 'em," said he.
"You--what? What have you seen? I'd like to know," said Aunt Indiana.
"Fairies--"
"Where?"
"When I've been asleep."
"There never was any fairies in my dreams," said Aunt Indiana.
No, there were not. The German Tunker and the prairie Indian might see
fairies, but the hard-working Yankee pioneer had no faculties for
creative fancy. Her fairy was the plow that breaks the ground, or the
axe that fells the timber. Yet the German soul-tale seemed to haunt her,
and she at last said:
"I wish that we had more such stories as that. It is pleasant talk. Abe
Lincoln tells such things out of the Pilgrim's Progress. He's all
imagination, just like you and the Indians. People who don't have much
to do run to such things. I suppose that he has read that Pilgrim's
Progress over a dozen times."
"I have observed that the boy had ideals," said Jasper.
"What's them?" said Aunt Indiana.
"People build life out of ideals," said Jasper. "A cathedral is an ideal
before it is a form. So is a house, a glass--everything. He has the
creative imagination."
"Yes--that's what I said: always going around with a book in his hand,
as though he was walking on the air."
"His step-mother says that he's one of the best of boys. He does
everything that he can for her, and he has never given her an unkind
word. He loves his step-mother like an own mother, and he forgets
himself for others. These are good signs."
"Signs--signs! Stop your cobblin', elder, and let me prophesy! That boy
just takes after his father, and he will never amount to anything in
this world or any other. His mother what is dead was a good woman--an
awful good woman; but she was sort o' visionary. They say that she used
to see things at camp-meetin's, and lose her strength, and have far-away
visions. She might have seen fairies. But she was an awful good
woman--good to everybody, and everybody loved her; and we were all sorry
when she died, and we all love her grave yet. It is queer, but we all
seem to love her grave. A sermon goes better when it is preached there
under the great trees. Some folks had rather hear a sermon preached
there than at the meetin'-house. Some people leave a kind o' influence;
_Miss_ Linken did. The boy means well--his heart is all right, like his
poor dead mother's was--but he hasn't got any head on 'im, like as I
have. He hasn't got any calculation. And now, elder, I'm goin' to say
it, though I'm sorry to: he'll never amount to shucks! There, now!
Josiah Crawford says so, too."
"There is one very strong point about Abraham," said Jasper. "He has a
keen sense of what is right, and he is always governed by it. He has
faith that right is might. Didn't you ever notice it?"
"Yes, I'll do him justice. I never knew him to do a thing that he
thought wrong--never. He couldn't. He takes after his mother's folks,
and they say that there is Quaker blood in the Linkens."
"But, my good woman, a fool would be wise if he always did right,
wouldn't he? There is no higher wisdom than to always do right. And a
boy that has a heart to feel for every one, and a conscience that is
true to a sense of right, and that loves learning more than anything
else, and studies continually, is likely to find a place in the world.
"Now, I am going to prophesy. This country is going to need men to lead
them, and Abraham Lincoln will one day become a leader among men. He
leads now. His heart leads; his mind leads. I can see it. The world here
is going to need men of knowledge, and it will select the man of the
most learning who has the most heart, the most sympathy with the people.
It will select him. I have a spiritual eye, and I can see."
"A leader of the people--Abe Lincoln! You have said it now. I would as
soon think of Johnnie Kongapod! A leader of the people! Are you daft?
When the prairies leap into corn-fields and the settlements into banks
of gold, and men can travel a mile a minute, and clodhoppers become
merchants and Congressers, and as rich as Spanish grandees, then Abraham
Lincoln may become a leader of the people, but not till then! No, elder,
you are no Samuel, that has come down here among the sons of Jesse to
find a shepherd-boy for a king. You ain't no Samuel, and he ain't no
shepherd-boy. He all runs to books and legs, and I tell you he ain't got
no calculation. Now, I've prophesied and you've prophesied."
"Time tells the truth about all things," said Jasper. "We shall meet, if
I make my circuits, and we will talk of our prophecies in other years,
should Providence permit. My soul has set its mark on that boy: wait,
and we will see if the voice within me speaks true. It has always spoken
true until now."
At the close of this prophetic dialogue the subject of it appeared at
the door. He was a tall boy, with a dark face, homely, ungainly,
awkward. He wore a raccoon-skin cap, a linsey-woolsey shirt, and leather
breeches, and was barefooted, although the weather was yet cool. He did
not look like one who would ever cause the thrones of the world to lean
and listen, or who would find in the Emperor of all the Russias the
heart of a brother.
"Abe," said Aunt Indiana, "the Tunker here has been speakin' well of
you, though you don't deserve it. He just says as how you are goin' to
be somebody, and make somethin' in the world. I hope you will, though
you're a shaky tree to hang hopes on. I ain't got nothin' ag'in ye. He
says that you'll become a leader among men. What do you think o' that,
Abe? Don't stand there gawkin'. Come in and sit down."
"It helps one to have some one believe in him," said the tall boy. "One
tries to fulfill the good prophecies made about him. I wish I was
good.--Thank ye, elder, for your good opinion. I wonder if I will ever
make anything? I sometimes think I will. I look over toward mother's
grave there, and think I will; but you can't tell. Crawford the
schoolmaster he thinks good of me, but the other Crawford--Josiah--he's
ag'in me. But if we do right, we'll all come out right."
"Yes, my boy," said Jasper, "have faith that right is might. This is
what the Voice and the Being within tells me to preach and to teach. Let
us have faith that right is might, and do our duty, and the Spirit of
God will give us a new nature, and make us new creatures, and the
rebirth of the spiritual life into the eternal kingdom."
The prairie winds breathed through the trees. A robin came and sang in
the timber.
The four sat thoughtful--the Tunker, the Indian, the pioneer woman, and
the merry, sad-faced boy. It was a commonplace scene in the Indiana
timber, and that one lonely grave is all that is left to recall such
scenes to-day--the grave of the pioneer mother.