HARRY'S LESSONS
AND A CHANGE OF SCENE.
THE packing was going on briskly, amidst Mrs. Dinah's mischievous
lamentations and insinuations, and Harry was taking his farewell of his
favourite haunts, when a visitor was announced, demanding an interview
with Myra.
"Oh, Myra!" cried Harry, rushing into the library, where she sat
writing. "Here's somebody wants you, and yet you don't know any one
about here. I am afraid it is one of those horrid people that papa owed
money to."
"Hush, Harry! Do not speak so; it is very wrong, and you grieve me."
Myra looked up and saw that the "somebody" had been shown into the
room, and must have overheard the boy's rude speech.
Harry was about to slink away, but a firm hand was laid upon his
shoulder, and he was compelled to remain.
The visitor was a gentlemanly-looking man, beyond middle age, well
dressed, and of upright, frank, and easy bearing, though the ungloved
hand that grasped Harry's shoulder was like that of a man who had known
something of manual labour.
"Madam," said he, "excuse this freedom, but I should like this young
gentleman to hear what I have to say to you, if you will permit. I
'am,' unfortunately, one of those horrid people just described; the
whole of the drawing-room furniture came now from my warehouse last
summer. I do not for a moment suppose that Mr. Haynes did not wish and
intend to pay for it, and, but for this young gentleman's sake, I would
not have mentioned my share of the losses."
"He spoke thoughtlessly, sir; may I not beg you to pardon it?" said
Myra, seeing Harry wriggling himself out of the hand that held him.
"I do freely pardon it, but let him learn better while he has
opportunity."
"Harry dear, sit down quietly, and try to help me in all our
difficulties; it comforts me, Harry, to have you near me," said Myra
affectionately.
The boy looked in her truthful face, and sat down by her side, but he
did not feel much mollified towards the peremptory visitor, who quickly
hurried through his business.
"I come," he said, "from a meeting of the creditors, who have
commissioned me with their sincere and respectful sympathy for the
orphan family. They have heard also of you, madam, and in proof of
their admiration and respect, they request that you will accept such of
the useful articles of furniture as you may immediately need; the young
people's beds, perhaps; also the contents of their study and playroom.
There are two good pianos, one is to accompany you; and I shall send
men to pack and remove the things wherever you desire them to be
placed."
The good man looked anywhere rather than at the surprised young faces
before him. He wanted no thanks; he, and they who acted with him, had
reward enough in their own kind hearts.
"Dear sir," said Myra at last, "though deeply appreciating this
unexpected and generous act, it is right that you should know exactly
how we are situated. I have an income at my disposal which I trust
will be sufficient for our reasonable wants; and would it be fair to
subtract anything from those whose losses I fear must be very heavy?"
The visitor looked at her kindly, and then counted on his fingers
deliberately.
"Five children to feed, clothe, educate,—two of them boys to be put
out in life,—rent, taxes, servants, expenses that a young lady living
as you have lived ought not to be denied. Excuse me, dear young lady,
but you must agree to our little plan. It happens that I know more than
you are aware. I was one of the witnesses to your good grandfather's
will when he settled on you that which enables you now to help these
children. I was doing some work for him, and was called into his study
to see him sign his name. He gave me the first teaching that made me
wish and strive to love and please God; and if I can do anything to
serve you, I shall esteem it an honour."
Myra frankly put her hand into that large firm one which had held
Harry, and felt its warm and kindly pressure as he continued:
"When your grandfather died, I heard all about the circumstances, and
so it happens that I know what your resources are; and I understand
enough of respectable housekeeping, and of the requirements of a
family, to know that you will have nothing to spare. Yes, it must be as
we have arranged. And now, young sir, may I ask how old you are?"
"Just thirteen," said Harry.
"Time to be about the business of a heavenly Father who has said
what He will be to the orphan. You are too young to understand fully
the state of things around you, but remember this,—and I say it in
faithful kindness, hard as you may think it now,—remember if you would
be independent, free, and happy, so far as your way through this life
is concerned, you must shun debt. Never have anything that you do not
know when and how you can pay for; and pay all before you take pleasure
or indulgence. Peace of mind, and even life itself, may depend upon
obedience to these rules. Let us shake hands, and may our Lord and
Saviour bless and help you."
Harry gave his hand, and thought he should not forget.
"Sir," said he, "I am sorry for what I said about you, but I didn't
know that you had the religion of Jesus, and I thought all the people
must be angry and disagreeable who have—have—bills—that—"
"Never mind, my dear boy; you will not judge people another time
until you know something about them. I am thinking, Miss Sherwood,"
he resumed to Myra, "that your things might go to one of my warerooms
until you have settled where to put them. Would that save you any
trouble?"
"Indeed it would," said Myra gratefully, for the kind thoughtfulness
relieved her of a difficulty,—she not knowing yet where their future
residence might be.
"God, our loving Father, who sees all you and your friends are doing,
will reward you, sir," said she, as this real friend took his leave.
"And what for you?" he asked. "Our part is small and poor,—a mere
nothing compared with yours."
"When we have done that which is our duty to do, we are but
unprofitable servants," said Myra.
"Well, I can only hope if ever my children come to need a friend, some
such unprofitable servant may care for them."
"He may be sure of that, Harry," said Myra cheerfully, as they looked
after the good man down the walk. "It is written,—
"'With whatsoever measure ye mete, it shall be measured to you again.'
"Oh, Harry, shall we not be thankful for this generous consideration?"
"It would be a great deal better not to need it," said Harry.
"My dear brother, it is good for us to meet this kindness in people
from whom we had no right to expect it. I am greatly pleased, for
though I could buy the useful things, perhaps, I could not replace the
valuable books on your shelves, nor the contents of your playroom. We
must not be proud, Harry; perhaps some day it may please God to put it
into your power to do a similar kindness to others."
"Is it pride? I wouldn't let you do all you are going to do if I could
help it, only I don't see any way to help it; unless, indeed, you would
let me go off to sea at once. They don't want much grand education, you
know, at sea. Would you let me, Myra?"
"I could not consent to it, Harry. But if you are quite sure you cannot
be happy with me, I will not hinder you, and I will ask Mr. Haynes to
provide for this choice of your occupation in life in the best way
possible."
"But if I go to sea at last, won't it be waste of time and money to
keep me at school now?"
"We, that is, Mr. Haynes, Dr. and Mrs. Walker, and I, all think that in
three or four years more you may not think as you do now. Four years
of persevering study and opportunity to know your own mind will not be
thrown away. What do you know of astronomy and magnetism?"
"Nothing at all," said Harry, staring at his sister.
"What of geography, the ocean, the tides?"
"Very little, I'm afraid."
"What of machinery, the engine, the laws of motion?"
"Nothing at all of any consequence."
"What foreign languages can you speak? Our ships, you know, are in
the ports of all nations; and a sailor who can speak French, Spanish,
Italian, German, one or all, has a great advantage over those who
cannot."
"You are joking now, Myra. Sailors do not know all these things."
"It is very much to their advantage when they do, though. I fancy
your idea of being a sailor is just climbing up and down the rigging,
leaping with your good ship over the foaming billows, catching a shark
perhaps, and wearing a blue jacket, and singing 'Britannia rules the
waves.' Isn't it, now?"
Harry laughed, and felt that Myra really was a very wonderful person to
know a boy's thoughts so well.
"But, Harry," she continued, more seriously, "whatever you decide
to be, I want you to be the best of the kind. If you choose to be
a sailor, you must aim at the highest rank and most responsible
appointments; and therefore a good education is the starting-point. Go
to school for two years more, without deciding what you will be, then
another year or two with a special aim and suitable preparation. And if
my brother Harry feels it burdensome to owe the means to his sister's
love, Captain Sherwood can repay her at his leisure."
"Myra, Myra, you will always get your way," cried Harry, half laughing,
half crying.
But Myra made it end in a hearty laugh, and so that affair was settled.
While the young party proceeded on their trip to Wales, Mr. Haynes
and Dr. Walker undertook the selection of the school, and a suitable
residence near it. And Mr. Haynes especially, in his earnest gratitude
for the part Myra had chosen, was resolved to spare no trouble in
making such arrangements as he thought would be acceptable.
Mrs. Walker's taste and counsels were put in requisition. And Myra,
having stated her views concerning the simple style in which she wished
to live, was quite content to trust to their discretion.
The pleasant change from the late scene of sorrow, mortification, and
suspense, soon told upon the health and spirits of all the young party.
Myra would not take them to the sea, which would present such painful
remembrances to their minds, and which they were accustomed to visit.
But she chose a lovely inland village, surrounded by all kinds of
accessible beauty and scenes of historic interest, and with the rich
stores of information she had gathered, and the ample resources of a
refined and highly cultivated mind, the pleasure and improvement of her
companions were very effectually provided for.
The sight of some daring young trout in the river which wound through
the valley inspired some of the young people with a fancy for fishing;
and not fearing that their skill would greatly damage the happiness of
the finny families, Myra one day indulged them by providing fishing
tackle. And, with well-filled baskets of provisions, they sallied forth
for the trout stream.
Feeling no particular interest in the result beyond the exercise and
enjoyment of the children, who baited their hooks with paste and
watched with delight every movement of the float, declaring that, if
they caught nothing, they could count plenty of nibbles, Myra seated
herself with a book under a shady bank, where she could safely allow
little Elsie her share of the glee, with her fishing-rod extemporised
out of a switch cut from the hedge, a piece of string, and a crooked
pin.
Harry, declaring that the noise and laughter of the others hindered all
possibility of success to any real fisherman, walked farther on, and
after a great deal of patience, and considerable excitement over the
hooking of a water weed, was throwing in his line again, when footsteps
among the bushes and grass behind him caused him to look round.
A gentleman approached him, and, with an amused air, asked what success
he had met with.
"None at all yet," said Harry, with dignity; "but I shall try another
place, for I want to catch a good dish of trout for their tea."
"Is there an inn at the village?" asked the stranger, apparently
wishing to prolong the conversation.
"Yes, but we are not staying there; we have a cottage to ourselves.
It's very nice being here."
"I should think it is. May I presume to ask who the 'we' consist of?"
asked the stranger, taking up a handsome pocket-knife which Harry had
thrown upon the grass, and seeing the initials "H. S." engraved upon
the handle.
"We!—Oh, my sisters and brother; we have only come for a week or two,
because we are going to a new home."
"And your name is Sherwood, is it not?"
Harry looked up in surprise: How could the stranger know that?—Who
could he be?
He was a tall, gentlemanly-looking young man, with a satchel at his
back and a stout stick in his hand; and his broad fair brow, as he
pushed back his Glengarry cap, and his frank pleasant smile as he
offered his hand, prepossessed the young fisherman in his favour.
"I see I am right," he said; "and you and I must be friends, if you
please. Will you introduce me to your brother and sisters?"
"Not till I know who you are," said Harry, with the air of a protector.
"Right, my young friend; here is my card. Miss Sherwood will know my
name. I have just returned from Italy, and have some messages from her
friends there."
"Oh, how glad Myra will be!" exclaimed Harry. "Wait till I wind up my
line, and I'll find her for you. I left them about a quarter of a mile
off, by the side of the stream. How funny that you should happen to
find us out!"
The stranger gravely remarked that curious adventures often happen to
travellers, and they walked away together.
Leonard was still devoted to his float, but the others were busy
spreading out the feast, which Myra handed to them from the various
little baskets.
As they came in sight of the pretty group, Harry bounded forward.
"Myra, sister Myra, here is a gentleman from Italy; here is his
card—Ralph Penwald is the name—you'll have to give him some dinner; he
may have my share if you haven't enough. And he has promised to tell me
all about his ascent of Mont Blanc."
With very blooming cheeks, and some surprise, Myra came forward to
receive the traveller. And with the young party, he was soon quite at
home. There happened to be dinner enough, and he greatly added to the
entertainment by the tact and grace with which he managed everybody
and everything there was to do. For Myra, he had brought notes from
her young cousins, and endless messages from Frank, protesting that
he could not enjoy himself without her, and insisting that she should
return as soon as she had settled about her brothers and sisters.
"But he cannot have her," cried Florence; "she has got a house, and we
are all going to live with her."
Mr. Penwald was busy peeling an apple for Elsie, and made no reply.
But, after a while, he asked Myra if she would trust him with the boys
for a longer ramble in the afternoon than the rest of the party could
take, and he would help them to accomplish their design of bringing
fish for their tea.
"Oh yes, that will be capital!" cried Harry. "And you will give Mr.
Penwald his tea, Myra. And if he is going to stay all night at the inn,
wouldn't it be nice if he would come with us to the ruins to-morrow?"
"I am not fond of ruins, Master Harry," said Ralph; "I prefer building
up just now."
"Oh, but you like to see a fine old castle, don't you? Myra does, and
she has promised to take us to-morrow, if the day is fine, to the
ruined castle of B—. Now, if you would come with us, Myra would have
no fears for Leonard and me; and we could run about and scramble where
girls can't, you know."
"If your sister permit, nothing could be more pleasant for me," said
Mr. Penwald.
Myra could scarcely refuse, though she tried to put in some objection
on the ground of intruding on Mr. Penwald's time. But the proposition
was carried by acclamation.
The boys then begged to escort their new friend to the inn, to secure
lodging for the night.
"How long are you going to stay?" asked they.
"It depends on circumstances," he said; "I shall certainly not go until
we return from the castle."
The afternoon was spent delightfully to them; they brought fish and
Mr. Penwald home to tea, and all was arranged for the excursion of the
following day.
Harry had listened particularly to the conversation, and, after a happy
evening, he accompanied Mr. Penwald to the inn, lingering in the soft
twilight as if he wished to say something, and had not wrought up his
courage to the point.
"Now I shall see you back again until your cottage is in sight," said
Ralph; "lest your sister be uneasy."
"I would not make Myra unhappy for the world," said the boy; "she is
first-rate. When she came, we didn't know how much we should love her."
"She is worthy of your love, my dear boy; she is a consistent follower
of Him who came to manifest the God whose name is 'Love.'"
"Mr. Penwald, please, you won't think me rude, will you? I want to ask
you, do you know the religion of Jesus?"
"Something of it, I trust, dear Harry," replied Mr. Penwald in
surprise; "I hope you will know it too."
"Myra is teaching me," said the boy, with a last clasp of the hand he
held, and was at the cottage in a few moments.
Mr. Penwald retired to read his evening chapter, and consider how much
he really knew of the religion of Jesus, and if it were as practical
and influential a reality as it ought to be.
Harry meanwhile determined to think over something which troubled his
mind, but as soon as his head rested on the pillow, he knew nothing
more till morning.
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