THE CIRCULAR CITY, CONTINUED.
They wrote to Mr. Thorpe. Of course they did! They promised the moss and
roots, and told him how glad they were that the people had been pleased
with what they sent, and would he be so _very_ kind as to write and tell
them whether he had heard of anybody who had tried the apple dumplings?
“And if any of your people are ill, dear Mr. Thorpe,” wrote Tiny, in her
share of the letter, “and there is anything particular that you would
like for them, will you please tell us, and perhaps it will be something
we can send you.”
The answer to this letter was delightfully prompt. Yes, several of the
women who had shared the apples had “tried” the dumplings, and been much
pleased with them. Were there any more nice cheap dishes? And would it be
too much trouble to print the recipes in large, clear letters? Some of
the poor people who could read print quite easily could not read writing
at all. And there was “something particular.” It was almost impossible
for any of “his people” to buy pure milk, and he felt sure that many
little children were suffering and dying for want of proper food. If he
might have only two or three quarts a week of really pure, sweet milk,
he would give it to those who most needed it.
“But perhaps,” he wrote, “it is not in your power to supply this want,
and if it is not, you must not be troubled. God never asks for any
service which we cannot, with His help, render to Him, and the knowledge
of this should keep us from fretting when we cannot carry out all our
wishes and plans.”
[Illustration]
Tiny and Johnny each received ten cents a week for spending money, and
it did not take them long to decide that, if Uncle Isaac would sell them
three quarts of milk a week, and lend them a milk can, they would send
that milk, if it took every cent of their allowance. Uncle Isaac entered
into the plan with spirit; if they took three quarts of milk a week
“straight along,” he said, it would only be four cents a quart, and he
would lend them a can, and deliver it, with pleasure.
“But that would be skimmed milk, wouldn’t it, Uncle Isaac?” asked Tiny,
doubtfully.
“Oh no,” he answered, “not at all! It shall either be from the milking
over night, with all the cream on it, or, if Johnny chooses, I’ll call
him in time to milk the three quarts that very morning—perhaps that would
be best, for then some of it would keep till next day, if Mr. Thorpe
could find a cold place for it.”
The children were jubilant. There would still be eight cents a week
left, and they admitted to each other that it would have been “very bad”
to be reduced to “nothing at all a week!” And Johnny agreed at once to
do the milking. He had been learning to milk “for fun,” and could do it
quite nicely.
“And that’s a real blessing, Tiny,” he said, “for the milk will be so
nice and fresh, as Uncle Isaac says, that Mr. Thorpe can keep some till
next day. I do hope he has a refrigerator.”
[Illustration]
You will begin to see, by this time, that the things which these little
people were doing by way of sharing their happiness, were not by any
means all play, and that some of them were very downright work. Picking
berries in the hot sun, or even flowers, when one picks them by the
bushel, is not amusing. It always seemed to Johnny, on the milking
mornings, that he had only just fallen asleep when Uncle Isaac gave
him the gentle shaking which had been agreed upon, because a knock or
call would wake the rest of the family needlessly early. Very often
most interesting things, such as building a dam, or digging a pond, or
making a house of fence rails, had to be put aside for hours, that the
“consignment,” whatever it happened to be that time, might be ready
for Uncle Isaac over night. But how sweet and happy was the play which
followed their labors of love, and how small their sacrifices seemed,
when they thought of the little children, crowded, packed, into narrow,
foul-smelling courts and alleys, and, inside of these again, into
stifling rooms!
The long rambles, in which Mrs. Leslie always, and Mr. Leslie sometimes,
joined, in search of mosses and wild-flower roots, were only a delight,
and quite paid for the work of printing the simple rules for cheap
cookery, which Aunt Mercy told them from time to time, as she could
remember.
They caught Uncle Isaac, nearly every time that he took one of their
cargoes, slipping in something on his own account—vegetables, or fruit,
or eggs, and even, sometimes, a piece of fresh meat, when one of his own
sheep had been killed to supply the table.
[Illustration]
“That’s a first-rate way to make a stew, that thy Aunt Mercy gave thee
yesterday,” he said, gravely, to Tiny, on one of these occasions; “but I
thought if I took the mutton, and a few carrots and potatoes, along with
it, it would stand a good deal better chance of getting made than if I
didn’t!”
And Tiny and Johnny delightedly agreed that it would.
Mr. Leslie came home, one evening, looking a little troubled.
“I haven’t seen Jim at his usual place for two or three days,” he
said; “and if I could only have remembered the street and number of his
lodgings, I would have made time to go and ask after him. Please write
the address on a card for me, dear, and I’ll go to-morrow, or send if I
can’t go.”
The happy days in the country had by no means made Tiny and Johnny forget
Jim, in the hot and weary city; and, as Mr. Leslie often saw him at his
stand, messages were exchanged, and gifts of fruit and flowers sent,
which cheered his loneliness not a little, for he missed them more than
even they could guess. Aunt Mercy and Uncle Isaac had heard a good deal
about him, too, by this time; and it so happened that they had come to a
decision concerning him that very day.
So now Aunt Mercy said,—
“I was going to speak to thee of that lad this very evening, Friend
Leslie. Our hired man, David, is obliged to leave us next month, and I
have taken a notion to ask thy young friend to take his place. The work
will not be heavy through the winter, and by spring, with good care and
good food in the meantime, he might well be strong enough to keep on
with David’s work, until our time for hiring extra help comes. And we
think it would be well if he could come at once, while David is still
here to instruct him, and we would pay him half wages until David leaves.
Would thee object to laying our proposal before him, if thee sees him
to-morrow?”
The applause which followed this speech quite embarrassed Aunt Mercy; but
she was made to understand very clearly that Mr. Leslie would not have
the slightest objection to undertaking her mission.
Tiny and Johnny were confident that Jim would come the very next day; and
when Mr. Leslie saw the blank faces which greeted him as he returned, the
next evening, alone, he pretended that he meant to go back to the office
immediately.
“For the office cat is always glad to see me,” he said, “and especially
so when I come alone!”
He received, immediately, an overwhelming apology and testimonial, all in
one. But when it was over, Tiny asked,—
“Why didn’t Jim come with you, papa, really and truly?”
“Jim is slightly ill at his lodging,” said Mr. Leslie. “It is nothing
serious,” he hastened to add, as he saw the anxious faces. “I took the
doctor to see him, and he says Jim has a slight touch of bilious fever.
He is wretchedly uncomfortable, of course, for the old woman of the house
does as little for him as she decently can; but I gave her a talking to,
and the doctor says, he hopes to have Jim on his legs again in two or
three days, though, of course, he will be rather weak for a while.”
This news caused much lamentation, which was instantly changed to joy,
when Uncle Isaac said, quietly, and as if it were the only thing to be
said under the circumstances,—
“If thee will give me the address, Friend Leslie, I will drive in for
the lad to-morrow. Mercy can arrange a bed in the bottom of the spring
wagon, and I think the slight risk we shall cause him to run will be
justifiable, under the circumstances. The kitchen-chamber is vacant, and
he can sleep there, until David goes.”
Mr. Leslie clasped the old man’s hand with affectionate warmth, nor
could he help saying softly, so that only Uncle Isaac heard,—
“‘I was a stranger, and ye took Me in; sick, and in prison, and ye
visited Me.’”
Aunt Mercy asked Tiny and Johnny to help her make ready the kitchen
chamber, the next day, and Johnny will never receive any more delightful
flattery than her gentle,—
“Thee is such a carpenter, Johnny, and so handy, that I thought perhaps
thee could bore a gimlet-hole in the floor, here by the bed, and then fix
a piece of twine along one of the rafters in the kitchen, till it reached
the door-bell—no one-ever rings that, thee knows, and that poor boy may
want something, and be too weak to call.”
[Illustration]
So Johnny arranged the bell-pull, while Aunt Mercy and Tiny tacked
up green paper shades, and white muslin curtains, to the two windows
and spread the straw mattress, first with three or four folded
“comfortables,” and then with lavender-scented sheets and a white
bed-spread, and put a clean cover on the bureau, and on the little
one-legged and three-footed table which was to stand by the bed. Two or
three braided rugs were laid upon the floor, and then, when Tiny had
decorated the bureau with a bunch of the brightest flowers she could
find, the room was all ready, “and too lovely for anything,” as Tiny
said.
[Illustration]
Jim was afraid, at first, that his new friends would not understand why
he could not, try as he might, find voice to say anything, when Uncle
Isaac and David carried him upstairs, and gently placed him on the
white bed. There was a lump in his throat which would not let any words
pass it, but he raised his eyes to Aunt Mercy’s face, with a look which
somehow made her stroke his hot forehead with her soft, cool hands, and
say tenderly,—
“There, my dear, thee is safe and at home, and all thee has to do is to
lie here and get well as fast as thee can!”
He did it, and with everything to help forward his recovery, his strong
young frame soon shook off disease and languor.
[Illustration]
Three weeks after he came to the farm, he was “all about again,” as Aunt
Mercy said, and so eager for work, that he soon left David little to do.
And what famous help he was about the “mission!” He seemed to have an
especial faculty for finding the places where shy mosses and delicate
wild-flowers hid; he had “spotted” every nut tree within five miles
before the nuts were ripe, and he packed their various findings in a way
which excited wonder and admiration.
The “beautiful time” in the inner circle came to an end at last, or
rather, to a pause; nobody was willing to believe it the end. There
were plans and hopes for next year, and for the winter which must come
first, but, in spite of all the hopes, nobody looked very cheerful when
the last evening came, and if Mrs. Leslie and Aunt Mercy did not mingle
their tears with those of Tiny and Johnny, the next morning, it was only
because they felt that they must set a good example even if nobody were
able to follow it!
And you, who are reading this? Are you trying, ever so little, to share
your happiness? Think about it. No one is too poor to do this. Those of
you who enjoy, every summer, a free, happy holiday in the country, can
be “faithful in much,” and those who are themselves suffering privation
can give, always, love and sympathy, and often the “helping hand” which
does so much beside the actual help it gives. And remember, dear children
who are listening to me, that with the “Inasmuch as ye did,” comes the
far more solemn “Inasmuch as ye did it _not_, unto the least of these My
brethren, ye did it not to Me.”
[Illustration]
THE DEAD DOLL
AND OTHER VERSES.
BY MARGARET VANDEGRIFT.
Author of “Little Helpers,” etc.
1 Vol. Square 8vo. Fully illustrated. Uniform with “Davy and the Goblin,”
etc. $1.50.
A charming collection of wise and witty verses for children, many of
which, like “THE DEAD DOLL,” “THE FATE OF A FACE-MAKER,” etc., are very
popular, and have been copied all over the country; and are household
words in thousands of families, where this complete and beautiful edition
will be eagerly welcomed. Among the other poems are
THE GALLEY CAT.
SLUMBER-LAND.
AT SUNSET.
WINNING A PRINCESS.
THE CAT AND THE FIDDLE.
A DREAM OF LITTLE WOMEN.
THE CLOWN’S BABY.
THE KING’S DAUGHTER.
These poems are not only very attractive and interesting to children, but
they also have a great fascination for all who care for children, and for
sweetness and innocence of life.
_Sent, postpaid, on receipt of price, by the publishers_,
TICKNOR & CO., BOSTON.
[Illustration: AT CLOSE QUARTERS THE FIRST DAY AT GETTYSBURG.]
The Recollections of a Drummer Boy.
BY REV. HARRY M. KIEFFER, LATE OF THE 150TH PENNSYLVANIA VOLUNTEERS.
Copiously illustrated with scenes in camp and field. 1 vol. Square 8vo.
Revised and enlarged, and printed from entirely new plates. $1.50.
A new and enlarged edition of this admirable book, which is particularly
adapted for youths, and should be placed in the hands of every lad in the
country, to impart a knowledge of the old war days.
The position of the author, as a clergyman of the Reformed Church,
gives the book a certain value to all persons interested in true and
pure literature, which is also of the greatest power of attraction.
“The Recollections of a Drummer Boy” has become a very popular book for
Sunday-school libraries; and should be read by all old soldiers and their
children. The great demand for the book has compelled the publishers to
issue this enlarged and beautified new edition.
“The author describes the war fever and enlistment, the advance to
Virginia, the battles of Chancellorsville, Gettysburg, the Wilderness,
Petersburg, and the end, with a simplicity and straightforwardness that
are full of pathos. The evening camps, the frugal ‘hard tack,’ the long
marches over ‘the sacred soil,’ the Bucktail cantonments under the
dark Virginia pines, the whir of the long roll, the silent watch of
midnight pickets, the songs of the camp, the moans of the hospital, the
white tents on Maryland hills, the joyous rush of artillery coming into
action, the imposing splendors of Presidential reviews—all these and
a thousand other phases of that exciting era are reproduced here with
picturesque fidelity; and once more its readers are ‘Tenting on the old
Camp-ground.’”—_Washington Herald._
_Sent, postpaid, on receipt of price, by the Publishers_,
TICKNOR & CO., BOSTON.
[Illustration]
JUAN AND JUANITA.
By FRANCES COURTENAY BAYLOR.
Author of “On Both Sides,” etc.
1 vol. Square 4to. With many illustrations $1.50.
Miss Baylor’s charming and “ower true” tale has formed (_though only
given in part_) the chief attraction of the “St. Nicholas” for a year,
and in its present and complete form will be heartily welcomed, most
of all by those who have already learned to love its little hero and
heroine, and will eagerly look for the full story of their adventures.
The _locale_ of these events, amid the romantic scenery of Northern
Mexico and Western Texas, is brilliantly and accurately described, with
the ways and habits of the Texans, Mexicans, and Indians. With these
are the records of the young hero and heroine, in and beyond the Cañon
of Roses, and their numerous strange and diverting adventures, making a
volume of rare and permanent interest for young or old.
[Illustration]
THREE GOOD GIANTS.
BY FRANÇOIS RABELAIS.
_Translated by John Dimitry. With 175 Pictures by Gustave Doré and Anton
Robida._
$1.50. Uniform with “Davy and the Goblin,” etc.
“The present beautiful edition of an amusing book cannot fail to amuse
thousands of little ones, who perhaps in these days are growing tired of
‘Gulliver’s Travels,’ ‘Robinson Crusoe,’ ‘Alice in Wonderland,’ and ‘The
Arabian Nights.’”—_The Week._
“Coleridge classes Rabelais with ‘the great creative minds, Shakspeare,
Dante, and Cervantes.’ In ‘Three Good Giants,’ children, young and
old, will find a story which will vie in delightful interest with
‘Robinson Crusoe.’ The adventures of the hearty, good-natured old king
Grandgousier, his son Gargantua, and his grandson Pantagruel, all of them
mighty heroes and doers of wonderful deeds, will be read and re-read with
ever-increasing enjoyment. In paper, printing, and binding, ‘Three Good
Giants’ is everything that a choice holiday hook should be.”—_Washington
Transcript._
_Sent, postpaid, on receipt of price by the publishers_,
TICKNOR & CO., BOSTON.