Somewhere in green Kentucky, not a great many years ago, the ruddy
light of a Christmas sunset, streaming in at the windows of an
old-fashioned brick house, that stood on a gentle hillside, half
hidden by evergreens, shone full and broad on a group of merry little
youngsters there met together to spend the holiday with their Uncle
Juvinell, a charming old bachelor of threescore and ten.
What with "blind man's buff," "leap-frog," "hide-and-seek," "poor
pussy wants a corner," Mother Goose, dominos, sky-rockets and squibs,
and what with the roasting of big red apples and the munching of
gingerbread elephants, the reading of beautiful story-books,--received
that morning as Christmas presents from their Uncle Juvinell and other
loving relatives,--these little folks had found this day the most
delightful of their lives.
Tired at last of play, and stuffed with Christmas knick-knacks till
their jackets and breeches could hold no more, they had now betaken
themselves to the library to await the return of their Uncle Juvinell,
who had gone out to take his usual evening walk; and were now quietly
seated round a blazing winter fire, that winked and blinked at them
with its great bright eye, and went roaring right merrily up the wide
chimney. Just as the last beam of the setting sun went out at the
window, Uncle Juvinell, as if to fill its place, came in at the door,
all brisk and ruddy from his tramp over the snow in the sharp bracing
air, and was hailed with a joyous shout by the little folks, who,
hastening to wheel his great arm-chair for him round to the fire,
pushed and pulled him into it, and called upon him to tell one of his
most charming stories, even before the tingling frost was out of his
nose.
As this worthy old gentleman has done much for the entertainment and
instruction of the rising generations of the land, it is but due him
that some mention, touching his many amiable traits of character and
his accomplishments of mind and person, should be made in this place
for the more complete satisfaction of those who may hereafter feel
themselves indebted to him for some of the most pleasant moments of
their lives.
In person, Uncle Juvinell is stout and well-rounded. His legs are fat,
and rather short; his body is fat, and rather long; his belly is snug
and plump; his hands are plump and white; his hair is white and soft;
his eyes are soft and blue; his coat is blue and sleek; and over his
sleek and dimpled face, from his dimpled chin to the very crown of his
head,--which, being bald, shines like sweet oil in a warm
fire-light,--there beams one unbroken smile of fun, good-humor, and
love, that fills one's heart with sunshine to behold. Indeed, to look
at him, and be with him a while, you could hardly help half believing
that he must be a twin-brother of Santa Claus, so closely does he
resemble that far-famed personage, not only in appearance, but in
character also; and more than once, having been met in his little
sleigh by some belated school-boy, whistling homeward through the
twilight of a Christmas or New Year's Eve, he has been mistaken for
the jolly old saint himself. In short, his whole appearance is in the
highest degree respectable; and there is even about him an air of
old-fashioned elegance, which of course is owing chiefly to the
natural sweetness and politeness of his manners, and yet perhaps a
little heightened withal by the gold-bowed spectacles that he wears on
his nose, the heavy gold bar that pins his snowy linen, the gold
buttons that shine on his coat, his massive gold watch-chain (at the
end of which hangs a great red seal as big as a baby's fist), and by
his gold-headed ebony cane, that he always carries on his shoulder
like a musket when he walks, as much as to say, "Threescore and ten,
and no need of a staff yet, my Christian friend." No man is more
beloved and esteemed by all who know him, old and young, than he; for
like Father Grimes, whose nephew he is by the mother's side.--
"He modest merit seeks to find,
And give it its desert;
He has no malice in his mind,
No ruffles on his shirt.
His neighbors he does not abuse;
Is sociable and gay:
He wears large buckles in his shoes,
And changes them, each day."
If there is one thing about Uncle Juvinell that we might venture to
pronounce more charming than another, it is the smile of mingled fun,
good-humor, and love, with which his countenance never ceases to
shine, save when he hears the voice of pain and his breast with pity
burns. Touching this same trait of his, a lady once said in our
hearing, that she verily believed a cherub, fresh from the rosy
chambers of the morning, came at the opening of each day to Uncle
Juvinell's chamber, just on purpose to dash a handful of sunbeams on
his head; and, as there were always more than enough to keep his face
bathed with smiles for the next twenty-four hours, they were not
wasted, but, falling and lodging on his gold spectacles, his gold
breast-pin, his gold buttons, his gold watch-chain, and the gold head
of his ebony cane, washed them with lustre ever new, as if his face,
bright and broad as it was, were not enough to reflect the love and
sunshine ever dwelling in his heart. We will not undertake to vouch
for the truth of this, however. As the young lady was a marriageable
young lady, and had been for a number of years, it would not be
gallant or generous for us to mention it; but of this we are certain,
that, when this good old gentleman enters a room, there is a warmth
and brightness in his very presence, that causes you to look round,
half expecting to see the tables and chairs throwing their shadows
along the floor, as if, by the power of magic, a window had suddenly
been opened in the wall to let in the morning sunshine.
If the affections of Uncle Juvinell's heart are childlike in their
freshness, the powers of his intellect are gigantic in their
dimensions. He is a man of prodigious learning: for proof of which,
you have but to enter his library, and take note of the books upon
books that crowd the shelves from the floor to the ceiling; the maps
that line the walls; the two great globes, one of the earth and the
other of the heavens, that stand on either side of his reading-desk;
and the reading-desk itself, whereon there always lies some book of
monstrous size, wide open, which no one has ever had the courage to
read from beginning to end, or could comprehend if he did.
In the languages he is very expert; speaking French with such
clearness and distinctness, that any native-born Frenchman, with a
fair knowledge of the English, can with but little difficulty
understand more than half he says; and in German he is scarcely less
fluent and ready; while his Latin is the envy of all who know only
their mother-tongue. In mathematics, his skill is such, that you might
give him a sum, the working-out of which would cover three or four
large slates; and he would never fail to arrive at the answer, let him
but take his time.
In astronomy, he is perfectly at home among the fixed stars; can
distinguish them at a single glance, and that, too, without the help
of his spectacles, from the wandering planets; and is as familiar with
the motion and changes of the moon, as if he had been in the habit for
the last forty years of spending the hot summer months at some of the
fashionable watering-places of that amiable and interesting orb. But
it is in the history of the nations and great men of the earth that
Uncle Juvinell most excels, as shall be proved to your entire
satisfaction before reaching the end of this volume.
And yet, notwithstanding the vastness of his learning and the gigantic
powers of his mind, he can, when it so pleases him, disburden himself
of these great matters, and descend from his lofty height to the
comprehension of the little folks, with as much ease as a huge
balloon, soaring amidst the clouds, can let off its gas, and sink down
to the level of the kites, air-balls, and sky-rockets wherewith they
are wont to amuse themselves.
Being an old bachelor, as before noticed, he, of course, has no
children of his own; but, like the philosopher that he is, he always
consoles himself for this misfortune with the reflection, that, had he
been so favored, much of his love and affection must needs have been
wasted on his own six, eight, or ten, as the case might have been,
instead of being divided without measure among the hundreds and
thousands of little ones that gladden the wedded life, and fill with
their music the homes of others more blessed.
Living, as all his brothers do, in easy circumstances, he has abundant
time and leisure to devote himself to the particular interest and
enjoyment of these little ones; and is always casting in his mind what
he may be doing to amuse them, or make them wiser, better, and
happier.
Such is the ease, heartiness, and familiarity with which he demeans
himself when among them, and enters into all their little pastimes and
concerns, that they stand no more in awe of him than if he were one of
their own number; and make him the butt of a thousand impish pranks,
at which he laughs as heartily as the merriest rogue among them. And
yet it is for that very reason, perhaps, that they love him so
devotedly, and would give up their dog-knives or wax dolls any day,
sooner than show themselves unmindful of his slightest wishes, or do
aught that could bring upon them even his softest rebuke. They make
nothing of taking off his gold spectacles, and putting them on their
own little pugs to look wise; or running their chubby fists into the
tight, warm pockets of his breeches, in quest of his gold pencil or
pearl-handled knife; or dashing like mad over the yard, with his
gold-headed cane for a steed; or stealing up behind him, as he stands
with his back to the fire, and slyly pulling out his big red bandanna
handkerchief, wherewith to yoke the dog and cat together as they lie
sociably side by side on the hearth-rug. In short, he will suffer them
to tease him and tousle him and tumble him to their hearts' content,
and set no limits to their liberties, so long as they are careful not
to touch his snowy linen with their smutched fingers; for, if Uncle
Juvinell has one fault in the world, it is his unreasonable partiality
for snowy linen. But, were we to go on with our praises and
commendations of this best of men, we should fill a large volume full
to overflowing, and still leave the better half unsaid: so we must
exercise a little self-denial, and forego such pleasing thoughts for
the present, as it now behooves us to bring our minds to bear upon
matters we have more nearly in view.
Seeing how earnestly the little folks were bent upon drawing out of
him one of his longest stories, Uncle Juvinell now bade them sit down
and be quiet till he should have time to conjure up something more
charming than any Arabian tale they had ever heard; and throwing
himself back in his great arm-chair, and fixing his eyes on the
glowing coals, that seemed to present to his fancy an ever-shifting
panorama, was soon lost in profound meditation. And the longer he
thought, the harder he looked at the fire, which knowingly answered
his look with a winking and blinking of its great bright eye, that
seemed to say, "Well, Uncle Juvinell, what shall we do for the
entertainment or instruction of these little people to-night? Shall we
tell them of that crew of antic goblins we wot of, who are wont to
meet by moonlight, to play at football with the hanged man's head,
among the tombstones of an old graveyard? Or may be that dreadful
ogre, with the one fiery eye in the middle of his forehead, who was in
the habit of roasting fat men on a spit for his Christmas dinners,
would be more to their taste. Or, if you prefer it, let it be that
beautiful fairy, who, mounted on a milk-white pony, and dressed in
green and gold, made her home in an echoing wood, for no other purpose
than to lead little children therefrom, who might by some ill chance
be separated from their friends, and lose their way in its tangled
wilds. Or perhaps you are thinking it would be more instructive to
them were we to conjure up some story of early times in green
Kentucky, when our great-grandfathers were wont to take their rifles
to bed with them, and sleep with them in their arms, ready to spring
up at the slightest rustling of the dry leaves in the woods, and
defend themselves against the dreaded Indian, as with panther-like
tread he skulked around their lonely dwellings."
To each and all of these, Uncle Juvinell shook his head; none of them
being just exactly the thing he wanted. At length, finding that the
fire hindered rather than helped him to make a choice, he rose from
his seat, turned his back upon it, and looked from one bright face to
another of the circle before him, till his eye rested on Daniel, who
was among the oldest of the children, and was, by the way, the young
historian of the family, and, in his own opinion, a youth of rather
uncommon parts. He had that morning received from his uncle, as a
Christmas present, that most delightful of story-books, "Robinson
Crusoe;" but having seen the unlucky sailor high, but not dry, on his
desert island, and having run his eye over all the pictures, he had
laid it aside, and was now standing at the reading-desk, looking as
wise as a young owl in a fog over a very large book indeed, in which
he pretended to be too deeply interested to finish a slab of
gingerbread that lay half munched at his side.
Seeing his little nephew thus engaged, Uncle Juvinell smiled a quiet
smile all to himself, and, after watching him a few moments, said,
"Dannie, my boy, what book is that you are reading with so much
interest that you have forgotten your gingerbread?"
"Irving's Life of Washington, sir," replied Daniel with an air.
"A good book, a very good indeed; but too hard for you, I fear," said
Uncle Juvinell, shaking his head. "Tell me, though, how far you have
read."
"To Braddock's defeat, sir," replied Daniel.
"You have been getting over the ground rather fast, I am thinking; but
tell me how you like it," said Uncle Juvinell, by way of drawing his
little nephew out.
"Here and there, I come to a chapter that I like very much," replied
Daniel: "but there are parts that I don't understand very well; and I
was just thinking that I would point them out to you some time, and
get you to explain them to me; as you will, I am certain; for you know
every thing, and are so obliging to us little folks!"
At this, Uncle Juvinell's face lighted up as with a brilliant thought;
but, without seeming to notice his little nephew's request just then,
he reseated himself, and again began looking hard at the fire. The
fire opened its great bright eye more widely than before, and looked
as if it were putting the question, "Well, sir, and what is it now?
Out with it, and I will throw what light I can on the matter." After a
few moments, there appeared to be a perfect understanding between
them; for the fire with a sly wink seemed to say, "A happy thought,
Uncle Juvinell,--a very happy thought indeed: I was just on the point
of proposing the very same thing myself. Come, let us go about it at
once, and make these holidays the brightest and happiest these little
folks have ever known, or ever could or would or should know, in all
their lives." And the fire fell to winking and blinking at such an
extravagant rate, that the shadows of those who were seated round it
began bobbing up and down the wall, looking like misshapen goblins
amusing themselves by jumping imaginary ropes, the gigantic one of
Uncle Juvinell leaping so high as to butt the ceiling.
After several minutes of deep thought, the old gentleman rose, and
stood on his short fat legs with the air of a man who had made up his
mind, and with a smile on his face, as if sure he was just on the
point of giving them all a pleasant surprise. "Laura, my dear," said
he, "take down that picture from the wall you see hanging to the right
of the bookcase; and you, Ella, my darling, take that bunch of
feathers, and brush off the dust from it. Now hand it to me. This, my
cherubs," he went on, "is the portrait of the good and great George
Washington, who is called the Father of our country. It is to him,
more than to any other man, that we owe the blessings of freedom,
peace, and prosperity, we now enjoy in larger measure than any other
people of the wide earth; and it was for these same blessings that he
fought and struggled through all the weary years of our Revolutionary
War, amidst difficulties, dangers, and discouragements such as never
before tried the strength of man. And when, in the happy end, he, by
his courage, skill, and fortitude, and abiding trust in the protection
of an all-wise Providence, had come out victorious over all, and
driven our cruel enemies from the land, so that our homes were once
more gladdened with the smiles of peace and plenty,--then it was that
a grateful people with one voice hailed him chosen of the Lord for the
salvation of our beloved country. Blessed be the name of George
Washington,--blessed for evermore!" And a big tear of love and
thankfulness started from each of Uncle Juvinell's mild blue eyes,
trickled slowly over his ruddy cheek, and, dropping thence, went
hopping and sparkling down his large blue waistcoat.
At this the little folks looked very grave, and thought to themselves,
"What a good man Washington must have been, and how much he must have
done and suffered for the welfare of his fellow-beings, thus to have
brought the tears to our dear old uncle's eyes!" After looking at the
picture for some moments in silence, they began talking about it, each
in his or her own fashion; while Uncle Juvinell listened with much
interest, curious to see what different impressions it would produce
on their minds.
"That scroll he holds in his left hand must be his farewell address to
his army," said Daniel, the young historian, looking very wise.
"What a fine long sword he carries at his side!" said Bryce, a
war-like youngster who had just climbed to the summit of his ninth
year, and had, as you must know, a wooden sword of his own, with which
he went about dealing death and destruction to whole regiments of
cornstalks and squadrons of horse-weeds, calling them British and
Tories.
"How tall and grand and handsome he looks!" said Laura, a prim and
demure little miss of thirteen: "in his presence, I am sure I could
never speak above a whisper."
"That, yonder, among the trees and evergreens on the hill, must be the
house where he lived," said Ella, a modest, sweet-mannered little lady
of twelve. "What a beautiful place it is! and what a happy home it
must have been when he lived in it!"
"And see how the hill slopes down to the river, so grassy and smooth!
and such a nice place for little boys to roll over and over down to
the bottom!" said Ned, a rough-and-tumble youngster of ten, who spent
one-half of the sunshine with his back to the ground and his heels in
the air.
"And see the beautiful river so broad and so smooth, and the great
ships afar off going down to the sea!" said Johnnie, a little poet of
eight, who passed much of his time dreaming with his eyes open.
"And such a pretty play-house as I see there among the bushes on the
hillside!" said Fannie, a stout little matron of five, the mother of a
large and still increasing family of dolls.
"That is not a play-house, Fannie, but the tomb where Washington lies
buried," said Dannie with an air of superior wisdom.
"What a splendid white horse that black man is holding for him! How he
bows his neck, and champs his bit, and paws the ground!" said Willie,
a harum-scarum, neck-or-nothing young blade of fourteen, who would
have given his best leg to have been the owner of a galloping,
high-headed, short-tailed pony.
"What is he doing so far away from home without his hat, I wonder?"
said Master Charlie, a knowing young gentleman of eight, who was much
in the habit of doubting everybody's eyes and ears but his own.
"How kind and good he looks out of his eyes, just like father!" said
Mary, an affectionate and timid little creature of seven.
Just then, Addison, a plump little fellow of four, in all the glory of
his first new jacket and his first new breeches, who was standing on
the top round of Uncle Juvinell's chair, suddenly cried out in a very
strong voice for his age, "Oh! he looks just like Uncle Juvinell: now
don't he, Cousin Mary?"
For a man of his appearance to be thus compared with so stately and
dignified a man as Washington was a thing so ludicrous, that Uncle
Juvinell was surprised into the heartiest fit of laughter that he had
enjoyed that day. When it was over, he bade Laura hang up the picture
again in its accustomed place, and began where he had left off some
time before: "Now, my dear children, it came into my mind, while I was
talking with your Cousin Dannie a little bit ago, that I could not
tell you any thing more entertaining and instructive than the story of
Washington's life. It will, I am quite sure, interest you much: for
although he was such a great man,--the greatest, no doubt, that ever
lived,--and so awful to look upon, yet, for all that, his heart was
full to overflowing with the most tender and kindly affections, and,
if you can believe it, quite as fond of little children as your Uncle
Juvinell; often joining in their innocent sports for a whole hour at a
time. Let me see. This is Wednesday; and we have seven, eight, long
holidays before us to be as happy as skylarks in. Now, I am thinking,
that, if we would have next New Year's Day find us better and wiser,
we could not hit upon a more proper plan for beginning so desirable an
end than by spending a part of each day in making ourselves acquainted
with the life and character of this good and great man, and, at the
close of each evening's lesson, talking over what we have learned, to
our more complete understanding of the same. And now, my merry ones,
speak out, and tell me what you think of it."
"It will be just exactly the very thing," said wise Daniel.
"Glorious!" said rollicking Willie.
"Charming!" said prim and demure Miss Laura.
"'Twill be delightful, I am sure," said modest Ella.
"Nothing could please me better, if we have a good big battle now and
then," said war-like Bryce.
"I wonder if it will be as interesting as 'Robinson Crusoe'?" put in
doubting Charlie.
"Or 'Aladdin and his Wonderful Lamp'?" chimed in dreaming Johnnie.
"And we'll all listen, and be so good!" said timid, loving little
Mary.
"Wait a moment for me, uncle, till I run down to the cabin, just to
see how Black Daddy's getting along making my sled," said hair-brained
Ned.
"And wait a little bit for me too, uncle, till I go and put my dolly
babe to bed; for she might take the measles if I keep her up too
long," said motherly Fannie.
"And let me sit on your knee, uncle; Cousin Mary wants my chair," said
Addison, the youngest one of them all, at the same time climbing up,
and getting astride of Uncle Juvinell's left fat leg.
"Then settle yourselves at once, you noisy chatterboxes," said Uncle
Juvinell with a shining face; "and mind you be as quiet and mute as
mice at a cat's wedding while I am telling my story, or I'll"--His
threat was drowned in the joyous shouts of the children as they
scrambled into their chairs. When they had all put on a listening
look, he poured out a little yellow, squat, Dutch mug brimful of rich
brown cider from a big blue pitcher that Black Daddy had just placed
on a table close at hand, and, having wet his whistle therewith, began
his story. And now and then, as the story went on, the fire, keeping
its bright, watchful eye upon the old gentleman, would wink at him in
a sly manner, that seemed to say, "Well done, Uncle Juvinell,--very
well done indeed. You see, sir, I was quite right in what I told you.
We have hit upon the very thing. The little folks are enchanted: they
are drawing in wisdom with every breath. A merry Christmas to us all!"
Pop, pop! hurrah! pop!