HAPPY DAYS.
HAROLD allowed himself but a brief honeymoon; but it was as bright as it
was brief, especially to the young wife. The happiness of Alicia was
undisturbed by the petty cares which, like musquitoes in the sunniest
hours, occasionally buzzed about her husband. The very anxiety which
Harold felt to shield his bride from the slightest annoyance or even
inconvenience added considerably to his cares. It was he who had to
think about ways and means. The young husband had believed that by
economy on himself he had saved enough of rupees to supply every
probable want; but expenses came on which he had not sufficiently
reckoned. Both at Colonel Graham’s house, after the marriage, and at the
bungalow lent by a friend of Alicia, there seemed to be no end to
demands for bakhshish (tips). Khitmatgars, khansamars, chankidars, “all
the others that end in _ar_,” and a great many others that do not, came
smiling and saláming, and hailing the young bridegroom as father and
mother, and nourisher of the poor, even as flies gather round honey. It
was not in Harold’s nature to be stingy, especially at so joyful a time.
His stock of money appeared to melt like snow; he would have barely
enough, he saw, to cover travelling expenses.
Yet, after all, what were such cares when Alicia was beside him?
Sometimes he forgot them altogether. When their conversation was on
spiritual subjects, then, most of all, Harold realized what a treasure
he had in his wife. At other times the expression of innocent joy and
pleasant hopes flowed like a rippling stream from the lips of Alicia.
“We shall have a girls’ school, dearest,” she said to her husband as she
sat with her hand clasped in his; “I have been taken to such nice ones
by missionary ladies. I was charmed to see the rows of little girls with
shining black eyes, gay chaddars, and such a quantity of glittering
jewels. When I have such schools of my own I shall feel like a hen in
the midst of her brood of chickens. How delightful, too, it will be to
carry happiness into zenanas, to go like a welcome messenger proclaiming
to captives that they are free! I do long to see the delight pictured on
the dark faces of those who have never before heard the glad tidings!
Oh, what a blessed lot is mine!”
Harold met with a smile the smile on the fair young face upturned
towards his, yet felt that he must put some sober tints into Alicia’s
bright picture.
“You must remember, my love,” he observed, “that the work in Talwandi is
rather that of clearing and breaking up ground than that of reaping a
harvest. You must be prepared for some difficulties in a new station
like ours, which has been worked for scarcely a year. When my father was
moved to the Panjab he had a new language to learn, and not one of his
native helpers beside him. He has had at Talwandi very uphill and rather
discouraging work.”
“Was not your father grieved to leave his old station and friends?”
asked Alicia.
“Much grieved; for there were many converts, most of whom he himself had
baptized. But there were circumstances which made the move advisable;
and my father, without a murmur, though not without a sigh, gave up his
long-cherished hope of spending his last days in his old home and
amongst his own people, and being buried in the same grave as my
mother.”
“I think that it was very hard to send your father away against his
will!” exclaimed Alicia.
“Missionaries must have submissive wills, my love, and think nothing
hard that is right.”
“Oh, it will take me a long time to learn that lesson,” cried Alicia.
“Papa always let me have my own way—perhaps more than was quite good for
me. Do you know,” Alicia added in a more lively tone, “when I asked
Robin—playfully of course—whether I should not make a capital
missionary, he was bear enough to shrug his broad shoulders and say,
‘Time will show’?”
“Robin could not flatter to save his life,” remarked Harold; “but with
all his bluntness you will like him, Alicia. He has the kindest, the
truest of hearts.”
“Oh, I like him amazingly!” cried the bride. “We were hand and glove
from the first—only the glove is not a kid one. Robin will help to make
our house the daintiest little home to be found in all the Panjab. I
have quantities of pretty things, you know—pictures and
beautifully-bound books. We will have a flower-garden too, and creepers
all over the house. I mean it to look like a bower.”
Harold did not like to speak again of difficulties; he only remarked
with a smile, “Missionaries cannot always contrive to have very elegant
homes, my Alicia.”
“But I know that they have, for I have seen them. Some of the bungalows
are quite charming,” said the bride.
“Probably in older stations, my love, when it is easier to gather little
comforts around one.”
“Perhaps one can do without some of the little comforts, darling,” said
Alicia, “when one has the greatest comfort of all!” Very tender was the
bride’s tone as she added, “With you every place will be Eden to me.”
Harold fondly stroked the small clasped hands which rested so
confidingly on his knee.
“I do so want to be a help to you—never a hindrance. Do you not think
that missionaries’ wives, as well as their husbands, should have the
missionary spirit?”
“So strongly do I feel it, my love, that I should think a worker for God
a traitor to the good cause if he united himself to one in whom such a
spirit is wanting.”
“Ah, you think better of your poor little wifie than does Master Robin,”
said Alicia. “He copied out for me a song all about the duties of
Mission Miss Sahibas. So, like a dutiful little sister, I learned it by
heart, and set it to a capital old tune. Would you like to hear it? I
wish that my piano were here; but it has been sent on with the heavy
luggage.”
“Your voice needs no accompaniment, my love,” said Harold; “the
nightingale requires no piano.”
Alicia smiled and began, in a very musical tone, a song set to the air
of “The Fine Old English Gentleman.” After the first stanza Harold’s
manly voice joined in the chorus, as he beat time with his foot.
MISSION RULES AND REGULATIONS.
The Mission Miss Sahibas must never complain;
The Mission Miss Sahibas must temper restrain
When sust [lazy] pankahwalas won’t pull at the cane;
Must never be fanciful, foolish, or vain.
Oh, listen ye, Miss Sahibas;
These are the Mission rules!
The Mission Miss Sahibas must furnish the brain,
Of two or three languages knowledge obtain,
When weary and puzzled must “try, try again,”—
We cannot learn grammar by legerdemain.
Oh, listen ye, Miss Sahibas;
These are the Mission rules!
The Mission Miss Sahibas should know every lane,
Climb ladder-like stairs without fearing a sprain;
Must rebuke and encourage, exhort and explain;
Dark babies should fondle, dark bibis should train.
Oh, listen ye, Miss Sahibas;
These are the Mission rules!
Let Mission Miss Sahibas from late hours refrain,
For they must rise early, and bear a hard strain,
Like vigorous cart-horses drawing a wain,
That pull well together when yoked twain and twain.
Oh, listen ye, Miss Sahibas;
These are the Mission rules!
“Just as you and I are yoked together, Harold,” said Alicia, pausing for
a merry little laugh.
“_I_ may be a cart-horse, but you are rather like a white fawn,” was
Harold’s rejoinder. “Pray go on with your song; we have not yet
discovered the whole range of the ladies’ duties.”
“The next verse is a funny one,” observed Alicia: “I hope that the
formidable warning with which it closes is not needed by me.”
The Mission Miss Sahibas in dress must be plain;
The Mission Miss Sahibas must work might and main,
And therefore good nourishment should not disdain,
Or danger is great of their going insane!
Oh, listen ye, Miss Sahibas;
These are the Mission rules!
The Mission Miss Sahibas must topis [sun-hats] retain
To guard against sunstroke, to health such a bane;
‘Midst flies and musquitoes must patient remain;
By Mission Miss Sahibas snakes should be slain.
Oh, listen ye, Miss Sahibas;
These are the Mission rules!
The Mission Miss Sahibas should sow well the grain,
To bibis and begums [princesses] should love entertain;
Should smile and should soothe, but not flatter or feign,
And to usefulness thus they may hope to attain.
Oh, listen ye, Miss Sahibas;
These are the Mission rules!
“Bravo!” cried Harold, as the chorus was concluded; “that is no bad
lesson for Miss Sahibas to learn.”
“Or _Mem_ Sahibas either,” said Alicia laughing. “I suppose that the
duties of married and unmarried are much alike, only the Mems may leave
the snake-slaying to their lord and masters.”
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