Edward and Kate lived in a country town. It was a cheerful, clean town,
with wide streets, and an old church that had large trees round it, and
ivy growing up the tower. Their house had a garden behind it, in which
they used to play very happily, drive their hoops round the walks, and
run and jump about on the grass-plot. They also made many pleasant
little excursions into the country round, when their sister Laura was
able to go with them.
One of their favourite walks was through the woods belonging to an
ancient manor-house, always called "The Old Hall," about a mile from the
town. It belonged to a rich nobleman; but nobody had lived in it for a
long time. The gardens and park were, however, kept in fine order; and
it was said, that some day the house would be put in repair and
furnished. As it was now, people could walk by the paths through the
woods close up to it.
One of these paths was just outside the wall of the flower garden, and
led up to the portico of a sort of summer house or pavilion, partly gone
to ruin. The door of this pavilion was always closed; but it was so
shady and pleasant all round there, that it was a favourite place for
Edward and Kate to play in, while Laura sat under a tree reading; and
they would often look up at the beautiful roses, jasmines, and other
creepers that hung over the top of the wall, and wish they might go into
the garden and see all the lovely flowers they thought must be there.
They longed the more to be admitted within the wall, and see not only
the garden, but the Old Hall itself, because a young carpenter, who was
at work for their papa, putting up a book-case, had told them a great
deal about it. This carpenter, John Wilson, was a great friend of
theirs. He made a whole fleet of boats for them, which they sailed in
the water-butt, in the garden, and taught them how to saw, and plane,
and knock in nails; and while all this was going on, he would describe
the painted windows and carved ceilings and walls in the Old Hall; and
he knew all its wonders quite well, for he had worked there for several
months, repairing some parts of the rooms that were going to
destruction; and he said he hoped his lordship would soon have it all
thoroughly done, and that he should be employed to do the work.
After all this, Kate and Edward were quite pleased, when, one day, John
brought them permission to go and see it, from Mrs. Hollis, the
housekeeper, who lived in one of the lodges, and was allowed to shew the
place to visitors. If they went to the door of the pavilion in their
favourite path, and rang the bell, she would admit them, he said. They
thanked John very much for getting such a pleasure for them, and then
ran to their mama to ask her leave to go, which she gave them directly;
and, as the next day was very fine, they set out after their early
dinner, in high spirits, accompanied by Laura. To add to their pleasure,
their mama had told them they might order a donkey-chaise in the
village, near the Hall gates, to bring them home, because she was sure
they would be tired; and this was a thing they enjoyed extremely.
"Since you are going into the village, Master Edward, will you be so
kind as to ask at the post-office if there's a letter for me?" said John
Wilson, when Edward went to bid him good-bye. "Perhaps you will bring me
good luck."
Edward readily promised to ask for the letter, and then whispered to
Kate, "It's from his father he wants to hear, I know. He told me he
should never be happy till he did. I wish we could bring him one."
But it was of no use to wish. There was no letter for John Wilson. So
they ordered the donkey-chaise to be at the pavilion in three hours, and
went on to the appointed place, and rang the bell.
Mrs. Hollis did not keep them long waiting; and when she came, she
looked at them very kindly, and asked them to walk in. She was a formal
little old lady, with a black silk gown on, that rustled as she moved,
and wore a very white starched cap and handkerchief.
They liked the inside of the pavilion very much. The floor they trod on
was made of squares of black and white marble, and there were seats and
a round marble table. A long flight of white polished steps in front of
it led down to a broad gravel walk that bounded one end of the flower
garden. The garden was curiously laid out, in an old-fashioned style,
and the green lawn in the middle looked so smooth and tempting, that
they could not resist running down the steps towards it the moment they
saw it; and Mrs. Hollis and Laura followed them.
Their feet sank in the thick velvet-like grass as they walked over it.
In the middle there was a large round pond, with a fountain which sprung
up into the air and then fell again in showers of sparkling drops, that
ruffled the surface of the water, and made it glance in the sun as if it
were all over diamonds. It was so clear, that, though it was deep, they
could see every blade and leaf of the green mossy weeds among the white
pebbles at the bottom; and presently they saw skimming through it a
shoal of gold and silver fish. Little Kate had a slice of bread in the
pocket of her apron, that her mama had given her in case they should
feel hungry before they got home; so, as Mrs. Hollis told her the fish
would come up to the surface to eat crumbs, she quickly threw some in
for them, and up they came, one after another, and swallowed the pieces
in their gaping mouths, while their bright scales flashed like fire as
they caught the sunlight.
It was some time before the children could leave this delightful pond;
but when they did, they saw that at each end there was a smaller one,
both of which had their fountains, that sprung up, as if in imitation of
the larger one; and that, between the centre pond and each of these,
there was a large oval flower bed, and, at all the four corners of the
lawn, a round one. These flower beds were bordered with ivy, so
carefully pegged down that it formed thick wreaths of dark-green leaves,
and made a beautiful setting for the bright flowers within. White
lilies, tiger lilies, and tall lupins were in the middle; carnations,
white and scarlet geraniums round them, with brilliant blue salvias,
mignonette, fuchsias, and many other lovely things.
Besides these beds, there were at regular distances tree roses on the
lawn, with round bushy heads, full of splendid flowers of many different
shades, sending out the most delicious scent; and the wall which bounded
the gravel walk, and which they had so often looked at from the outside,
was covered with all manner of creepers, trained roses, honeysuckle,
maurandia, jasmine, passion-flowers, and many others.
As soon as they could make up their minds to go out of this bright
garden, Mrs. Hollis shewed them that one side of it was formed by a wing
of the house, and that large windows opened into it: but these were all
shut at present; so she led them by a gateway in the wall to a long
straight walk, which led under two tall cedar trees, whose branches met
over their heads, to the principal entrance of the mansion. She then,
with a large key which hung from her waist, together with several
smaller ones, opened the great heavy door, and they all went in.
At first the light seemed so dim that they scarcely saw well around
them; for their eyes had been looking at bright flowers, sparkling
waters, and green trees and grass basking in the sun; but they soon saw
that they were in a lofty square entrance hall, with beautiful painted
glass windows, that threw rich colours, blue, red, purple, yellow, and
green on the marble floor; and that the stone frames of the windows were
carved and ornamented, and the stone walls and roof also; and that iron
and steel armour of knights, with lances and helmets, were ranged in
niches round the walls; and that long galleries, with many doors into
different rooms, and more painted windows went off on each side; and
that opposite to them was a wide staircase, all the steps of which were
of dark oak, with carved rails, on the top of which were figures of
animals reared up on their hind legs, and wreaths of fruit and flowers
all carved in dark oak.
Then they went through many large rooms, with walls and ceilings of the
same dark oak, beautifully carved in squares and other forms, to
represent flowers and fruit, birds, and angels with wings; and these
rooms had immense fire-places without grates, meant to burnt logs of
wood. Kate and Edward went under the richly ornamented mantel-pieces and
looked up the wide chimneys. Then the windows--they liked them better
than all; for the walls were so thick that each window seemed to be at
the end of a little room of its own; and others were bay windows, and
these seemed to be in still larger rooms; and the frames were richly
carved; and they looked over the wide park with its green slopes and
spreading trees, sweeping the grass with their long branches, and
towering up towards the bright blue sky, and casting deep shadows on the
sunny grass; and a clear river went winding among them; and all looked
so lovely, that every time the children passed one of these windows, it
seemed to them that they saw a new picture set in a dark frame.
At last, when they had gone through so many rooms, that they began to
keep very close to Laura, lest they should be lost, and had been up the
wide staircase and through other rooms above, they heard, with joy, that
they were next to go into the park. They followed Mrs. Hollis through a
court and an old gateway, and here she bid them good-bye; and, after
thanking her with all their hearts for her kindness, they turned round,
and lost not a moment, but away they ran over the grass to the banks of
the river.
It was delightful to stand in the shade and watch the running water
rippling and tinkling over rocky stones that had the brightest green
moss on them; and to see the taper points of the weeping willows, that
dipped in the stream, and were always waving and trembling as it carried
them with it. Sometimes a trout or perch would dart through the deep
parts and disappear in an instant. They threw leaves and little sticks
in, and watched them sailing away, and wished they had brought some of
John's boats with them; then they dipped in their hands to feel the cool
refreshing water glide through their fingers. Suddenly their appeared
round a point two lovely white swans. On they came, arching their necks
and ruffling their wings. Kate took out her bread again, and threw piece
after piece to them, till all was gone, while they swam about catching
them in their black beaks.
Now Laura called to the children to look at the trees. What great trees
they were! Those round the church, which they had thought so large,
would only make one arm of these. They crept under the branches of the
beeches and limes, and there they were in a green little world,--green
leaves above and all round, and green grass under foot, and the
flickering sunlight peeping through upon them. Then they crept out
again, and clambered up steep knolls, and ran down sloping banks, and
every now and then stopped in wonder before some giant tree, with an
enormous trunk, that when they took hold of each other's hands, and then
Laura's, and all three stretched out their arms to the utmost, they had
still not grasped half of. They could not decide which kind of tree was
the most beautiful,--the oak, with its rough bark, strong arms, and deep
rich green; the beech, with smooth, shining stem and graceful sweeping
branches; the tufted elms; or the limes, so light and feathery. Then
there were Spanish chesnuts, and horse-chesnuts, and dark firs, and
birches with bark as white as silver. It was impossible to know which
was most beautiful.
Now they wound round a woody hill, into a beautiful glade, and came upon
the whole herd of deer, pretty spotted creatures, some with branching
horns, some grazing, some lying in the shade. Quietly as the children
tried to get near them, they were startled, and bounded off like
lightning, but did not go very far, and continued in sight for some
time.
The walk through the park had taken a good while, and the children began
to feel tired; so Laura persuaded them to sit down and rest on a
pleasant bank, all overgrown with wreaths of periwinkle, with its pretty
blue flowers. While they sat, there came past, like a stately lady in a
court dress, a splendid peacock, his gorgeous tail sweeping the ground,
his crested head erect, and his lovely neck glancing purple, green, and
gold. Then came another, and another, and then several pea-hens, not so
showy, but very graceful in form. Kate wished she had kept some bread
for them; but they seemed to be satisfied with admiration; and one of
them spread his tail up like a fan, as if to please them, and displayed
all its brilliant eyes, that shone like gold and gems in the sun.
When the peacocks had passed on, Kate began to wish she had kept a
little bread for herself and Edward, for the walk had been long, and she
felt hungry. Edward declared he was more thirsty than hungry, but
consoled himself with the thoughts of the nice drive home in the
donkey-chaise. They had made the circuit of the park, and were close to
the garden wall, and the gardener's house, which stood at one corner of
it; so Laura, who was always kind, went to the door and asked if she
could buy a little milk. The gardener's wife said she would sell her
some, and also let her buy a few home-baked cakes, and lent her a bowl,
and spoon, and plate, and said, if the young lady and gentleman would
like to sit down in the pavilion above the garden and take their
refreshment there, they might leave all these things on the marble
table, and she could easily fetch them away by and bye.
This was a very pleasant idea, and away they went merrily up the gravel
walk to enjoy their feast. They took off their straw hats when they
reached the shady pavilion, that they might feel the cool air, and
poured out their milk; but before tasting it, they went to the door to
see if the donkey-chaise had come.
It was not there yet; but, looking round, they saw lying by the path an
old man, who seemed to be asleep, and who rested his head on the lap of
a young girl sitting by his side. She was leaning her head on her hand,
and had not heard the children come to the door; for she seemed filled
with sad thoughts, and tears kept dropping through her fingers.
Kate and Edward stood with pitying looks on the steps, when the old man
raised his head, but seemed too weary to open his eyes, and said in a
feeble voice,
"We must go on, Martha."
"Are you any better, father?" said she wiping her tears away.
"Not much--hunger and sorrow are bad nurses, dear," he replied; "but
night will come upon us before we get to any place to sleep in, if we do
not move on."
"Poor old man! He is tired and hungry, and has got nothing to eat,"
whispered little Kate to Edward; and the tears came into her eyes. "_I_
am not at all hungry now: are you?"
"Let us go and bring the milk to them," Edward answered.
They ran to their table; and while Kate took up the bowl of milk, and,
carefully holding it in both hands, carried it to the door, Edward
brought the plate of cakes, and Laura followed, wondering what they were
going to do.
The young girl had already risen from her seat; the old man was sitting
up, and looked sadly pale and tired.
"Will you drink this milk?" said Kate, raising her eyes to his face,
while Edward held the plate of cakes to him.
"God bless you, little angels," said the old man. "He has sent you to
help us in our sore need."
"Oh! thank and bless you, kind young lady and gentleman," cried his
daughter.
"Drink some first, Martha, my child," said her father, taking the bowl
and holding it towards her. She obeyed him, and seemed to enjoy the
draught, as if she had wanted it very much indeed; and then he drank,
and it seemed to do him so much good that the children felt quite joyous
as they looked at them both.
"Now eat the cakes," said Edward; and as soon as each had taken one he
set the plate down, that they might not be hurried, and ran to get the
hats, for the donkey-chaise drove up at the moment.
Laura kissed her little brother and sister very affectionately, as she
tied their hats for them, and then asked the old man if he and his
daughter had far to go?
He said they were still thirty miles from home, and that they had walked
all the way from London, where they had gone, hoping to get some money
that was owing him, and besides, to meet his son, whose ship was
expected; but he had been disappointed in both his hopes, and, what was
worse, he feared his poor boy's ship had been wrecked, and he should
never see him again.
"Poor sailor boy!" said Kate.
"But do not despair," said Laura. "If you had waited a little longer he
might have come."
"I waited too long," he replied; "for our money is all spent,--we have
none left, and only trust to selling a few balls and pin-cushions my
poor girl has made, to get a lodging to-night and a bit of bread
to-morrow."
"And have you no other son?" asked Laura.
"I have another, Lady," said he; "but he's the same as dead to me. He
got into wild ways after he had served his apprenticeship, and I was
harsh to him, and he left his home, and I have never heard of him since.
Many misfortunes fell on me afterwards. Yes, yes, I was too harsh."
The old man looked down gloomily. In a minute, however, he raised his
head and said, "But God bless you for your kind hearts; we are so
refreshed by this sweet milk and these cakes, that we shall walk on to
Summerton quite heartily. It's the nearest town, they tell me."
As he spoke he got up, and bowing respectfully to Laura, and smiling
gratefully to the children, who were busy putting all the things
belonging to the gardener's wife where she had directed, he began to
walk away; but he walked quite feebly, and poor Martha's shoes were worn
out, and she limped as she followed him.
Little Kate had just taken her seat in the donkey-chaise.
"How tired they look!" said she, as she saw them going slowly on.
"I will run after them and direct them to our house," said Laura. "I am
sure mama will help them to a night's lodging."
"And Laura, dear," said Kate, getting out of the chaise, "if Edward does
not mind walking, I don't; so tell them--shall we Edward?--to get in
instead of us."
"Yes, yes," said Edward, eagerly.
"That I will, dear children," Laura answered; and stopping the old man
and his daughter, she succeeded, after a great deal of persuasion, in
making them accept the children's offer, and then helped them in.
Much as they liked a drive in a donkey-chaise, no drive in the world
could have made these children so happy as they felt in their walk home.
Their hearts full of joy, they bounded along, jumping over tree stumps,
running up and down banks, and never thinking of either fatigue, hunger,
or thirst.
"Here we come, John," they cried, as they approached their own door, and
saw John coming out after his day's work, his basket on his shoulder.
The donkey-chaise had got behind in climbing the hill at the entrance of
the town, but it came up at this moment. John's basket fell from his
hand, and fell heavily on the door-step, and he rushed towards it,
crying,
"Father! father! how is it I see you here?"
"John,--my dear son!" cried the old man; and they grasped each other by
both hands, and seemed to search in each other's faces for answers to
many questions; and then Martha took hold of her brother's arm, and he
remembered her, changed as she was from the merry, rosy girl he had left
her.
"Come home with me, father, and my poor Martha," said John; "and please
God you shall never know want more. If I had known you were come to
poverty, never would I have waited for a letter of pardon before I went
home to you."
"It is all along of those dear, blessed children, that fed us when we
were hungry and thirsty, and sent us on in their chaise when we were
weary, that we have found you now."
John gave his little friends a look of gratitude that said more than
many words; and then, all bidding good-night, they separated, the old
man and Martha going home with him, and the children running to their
mama to tell her all the adventures of this happy day, round their
cheerful tea-table. They now understood why John was so anxious for a
letter, and why he never received it, because his father had gone to
London.
Next evening they went to see him, and found him at supper with his
father and sister, who were dressed in nice new clothes, and looked much
better and happier. They all welcomed Kate and Edward joyfully, and gave
them seats, and John went into his little garden, in which he worked at
his spare hours, and picked them a dish of fine ripe strawberries, which
they enjoyed very much.
A week afterwards, John went to his father's village to sell off his
furniture, and give up his cottage, for they had resolved to live all
together in Summerton. Kate and Edward went to his house the evening he
was expected home, and stood at the door watching for him, while Martha
got tea ready, and her father swept up the hearth.
"Here he comes!" cried Edward, who saw him first.
"And there's a sailor-boy with him," cried Kate.
Now there was a joyful meeting. John had found his brother on the road
to his father's village. His ship had come into port two days before.
The old man used to say afterwards, when he looked back to this time,
that everything went well with him from the moment he saw the faces of
those dear children; and they always remembered the day when they
visited the Old Hall, as one of the happiest of their lives.
As for the fine Old Hall, John's hope was fulfilled about it. His
lordship had it repaired and furnished and came to live there, and made
John his head carpenter there; so that he never wanted work, and in time
took his brother into partnership, and the two sons made their father
and sister happy and comfortable all their days.
[Illustration: THE PICNIC IN THE FOREST.]