A Glance at the Ellis Family.
"I wish Charlie would come with that tea," exclaimed Mrs. Ellis, who sat
finishing off some work, which had to go home that evening. "I wonder what
can keep him so long away. He has been gone over an hour; it surely cannot
take him that time to go to Watson's."
"It is a great distance, mother," said Esther Ellis, who was busily plying
her needle; "and I don't think he has been quite so long as you suppose."
"Yes; he has been gone a good hour," repeated Mrs. Ellis. "It is now six
o'clock, and it wanted three minutes to five when he left. I do hope he
won't forget that I told him half black and half green--he is so
forgetful!" And Mrs. Ellis rubbed her spectacles and looked peevishly out
of the window as she concluded.--"Where can he be?" she resumed, looking in
the direction in which he might be expected. "Oh, here he comes, and Caddy
with him. They have just turned the corner--open the door and let them in."
Esther arose, and on opening the door was almost knocked down by Charlie's
abrupt entrance into the apartment, he being rather forcibly shoved in by
his sister Caroline, who appeared to be in a high state of indignation.
"Where do you think he was, mother? Where _do_ you think I found him?"
"Well, I can't say--I really don't know; in some mischief, I'll be bound."
"He was on the lot playing marbles--and I've had such a time to get him
home. Just look at his knees; they are worn through. And only think,
mother, the tea was lying on the ground, and might have been carried off,
if I had not happened to come that way. And then he has been fighting and
struggling with me all the way home. See," continued she, baring her arm,
"just look how he has scratched me," and as she spoke she held out the
injured member for her mother's inspection.
"Mother," said Charlie, in his justification, "she began to beat me before
all the boys, before I had said a word to her, and I wasn't going to stand
that. She is always storming at me. She don't give me any peace of my
life."
"Oh yes, mother," here interposed Esther; "Cad is too cross to him. I must
say, that he would not be as bad as he is, if she would only let him
alone."
"Esther, please hush now; you have nothing to do with their quarrels. I'll
settle all their differences. You always take his part whether he be right
or wrong. I shall send him to bed without his tea, and to-morrow I will
take his marbles from him; and if I see his knees showing through his pants
again, I'll put a red patch on them--that's what I'll do. Now, sir, go to
bed, and don't let me hear of you until morning."
Mr. and Mrs. Ellis were at the head of a highly respectable and industrious
coloured family. They had three children. Esther, the eldest, was a girl of
considerable beauty, and amiable temper. Caroline, the second child, was
plain in person, and of rather shrewish disposition; she was a most
indefatigable housewife, and was never so happy as when in possession of a
dust or scrubbing brush; she would have regarded a place where she could
have lived in a perpetual state of house cleaning, as an earthly paradise.
Between her and Master Charlie continued warfare existed, interrupted only
by brief truces brought about by her necessity for his services as
water-carrier. When a service of this character had been duly rewarded by a
slice of bread and preserves, or some other dainty, hostilities would
most probably be recommenced by Charlie's making an inroad upon the newly
cleaned floor, and leaving the prints of his muddy boots thereon.
The fact must here be candidly stated, that Charlie was not a tidy boy. He
despised mats, and seldom or never wiped his feet on entering the house; he
was happiest when he could don his most dilapidated unmentionables, as he
could then sit down where he pleased without the fear of his mother before
his eyes, and enter upon a game of marbles with his mind perfectly free
from all harassing cares growing out of any possible accident to the
aforesaid garments, so that he might give that attention to the game that
its importance demanded.
He was a bright-faced pretty boy, clever at his lessons, and a favourite
both with tutors and scholars. He had withal a thorough boy's fondness for
play, and was also characterised by all the thoughtlessness consequent
thereon. He possessed a lively, affectionate disposition, and was generally
at peace with all the world, his sister Caddy excepted.
Caroline had recovered her breath, and her mind being soothed by the
judgment that had been pronounced on Master Charlie, she began to bustle
about to prepare tea.
The shining copper tea-kettle was brought from the stove where it had been
seething and singing for the last half-hour; then the tea-pot of china
received its customary quantity of tea, which was set upon the stove to
brew, and carefully placed behind the stove pipe that no accidental touch
of the elbow might bring it to destruction. Plates, knives, and teacups
came rattling forth from the closet; the butter was brought from the place
where it had been placed to keep it cool, and a corn-cake was soon smoking
on the table, and sending up its seducing odour into the room over-head to
which Charlie had been recently banished, causing to that unfortunate young
gentleman great physical discomfort.
"Now, mother," said the bustling Caddy, "it's all ready. Come now and sit
down whilst the cake is hot--do put up the sewing, Esther, and come!"
Neither Esther nor her mother needed much pressing, and they were
accordingly soon seated round the table on which their repast was spread.
"Put away a slice of this cake for father," said Mrs. Ellis, "for he won't
be home until late; he is obliged to attend a vestry meeting to-night."
Mrs. Ellis sat for some time sipping the fragrant and refreshing tea. When
the contents of two or three cups one after another had disappeared, and
sundry slices of corn-bread had been deposited where much corn-bread had
been deposited before, she began to think about Charlie, and to imagine
that perhaps she had been rather hasty in sending him to bed without his
supper.
"What had Charlie to-day in his dinner-basket to take to school with him?"
she inquired of Caddy.
"Why, mother, I put in enough for a wolf; three or four slices of bread,
with as many more of corn-beef, some cheese, one of those little pies, and
all that bread-pudding which was left at dinner yesterday--he must have had
enough."
"But, mother, you know he always gives away the best part of his dinner,"
interposed Esther. "He supplies two or three boys with food. There is that
dirty Kinch that he is so fond of, who never takes any dinner with him, and
depends entirely upon Charlie. He must be hungry; do let him come down and
get his tea, mother?"
Notwithstanding the observations of Caroline that Esther was just
persuading her mother to spoil the boy, that he would be worse than ever,
and many other similar predictions. Esther and the tea combined won a
signal triumph, and Charlie was called down from the room above, where he
had been exchanging telegraphic communications with the before-mentioned
Kinch, in hopes of receiving a commutation of sentence.
Charlie was soon seated at the table with an ample allowance of corn-bread
and tea, and he looked so demure, and conducted himself in such an
exemplary manner, that one would have scarcely thought him given to marbles
and dirty company. Having eaten to his satisfaction he quite ingratiated
himself with Caddy by picking up all the crumbs he had spilled during tea,
and throwing them upon the dust-heap. This last act was quite a stroke of
policy, as even Caddy began to regard him as capable of reformation.
The tea-things washed up and cleared away, the females busied themselves
with their sewing, and Charlie immersed himself in his lessons for the
morrow with a hearty goodwill and perseverance as if he had abjured marbles
for ever.
The hearty supper and persevering attention to study soon began to produce
their customary effect upon Charlie. He could not get on with his lessons.
Many of the state capitals positively refused to be found, and he was
beginning to entertain the sage notion that probably some of the
legislatures had come to the conclusion to dispense with them altogether,
or had had them placed in such obscure places that they could not be found.
The variously coloured states began to form a vast kaleidoscope, in which
the lakes and rivers had been entirely swallowed up. Ranges of mountains
disappeared, and gulfs and bays and islands were entirely lost. In fact, he
was sleepy, and had already had two or three narrow escapes from butting
over the candles; finally he fell from his chair, crushing Caddy's
newly-trimmed bonnet, to the intense grief and indignation of that young
lady, who inflicted summary vengeance upon him before he was sufficiently
awake to be aware of what had happened.
The work being finished, Mrs. Ellis and Caddy prepared to take it home to
Mrs. Thomas, leaving Esther at home to receive her father on his return and
give him his tea.
Mrs. Ellis and Caddy wended their way towards the fashionable part of the
city, looking in at the various shop-windows as they went. Numberless were
the great bargains they saw there displayed, and divers were the
discussions they held respecting them. "Oh, isn't that a pretty calico,
mother, that with the green ground?"
"'Tis pretty, but it won't wash, child; those colours always run."
"Just look at that silk though--now that's cheap, you must
acknowledge--only eighty-seven and a half cents; if I only had a dress of
that I should be fixed."
"Laws, Caddy!" replied Mrs. Ellis, "that stuff is as slazy as a washed
cotton handkerchief, and coarse enough almost to sift sand through. It
wouldn't last you any time. The silks they make now-a-days ain't worth
anything; they don't wear well at all. Why," continued she, "when I was a
girl they made silks that would stand on end--and one of them would last a
life-time."
They had now reached Chestnut-street, which was filled with gaily-dressed
people, enjoying the balmy breath of a soft May evening. Mrs. Ellis and
Caddy walked briskly onward, and were soon beyond the line of shops, and
entered upon the aristocratic quarter into which many of its residents had
retired, that they might be out of sight of the houses in which their
fathers or grandfathers had made their fortunes.
"Mother," said Caddy, "this is Mr. Grant's new house--isn't it a splendid
place? They say it's like a palace inside. They are great people, them
Grants. I saw in the newspaper yesterday that young Mr. Augustus Grant had
been appointed an attache to the American legation at Paris; the newspapers
say he is a rising man."
"Well, he ought to be," rejoined Mrs. Ellis, "for his old grand-daddy made
yeast enough to raise the whole family. Many a pennyworth has he sold me.
Laws! how the poor old folk do get up! I think I can see the old man now,
with his sleeves rolled up, dealing out his yeast. He wore one coat for
about twenty years, and used to be always bragging about it."
As they were thus talking, a door of one of the splendid mansions they were
passing opened, and a fashionably-dressed young man came slowly down the
steps, and walked on before them with a very measured step and peculiar
gait.
"That's young Dr. Whiston, mother," whispered Caddy; "he's courting young
Miss Morton."
"You don't say so!" replied the astonished Mrs. Ellis. "Why, I declare his
grandfather laid her grandfather out! Old Whiston was an undertaker, and
used to make the handsomest coffins of his time. And he is going to marry
Miss Morton! What next, I'd like to know! He walks exactly like the old
man. I used to mock him when I was a little girl. He had just that
hop-and-go kind of gait, and he was the funniest man that ever lived. I've
seen him at a funeral go into the parlour, and condole with the family, and
talk about the dear departed until the tears rolled down his cheeks; and
then he'd be down in the kitchen, eating and drinking, and laughing, and
telling jokes about the corpses, before the tears were dry on his face. How
he used to make money! He buried almost all the respectable people about
town, and made a large fortune. He owned a burying-ground in Coates-street,
and when the property in that vicinity became valuable, he turned the dead
folks out, and built houses on the ground!"
"I shouldn't say it was a very pleasant place to live in, if there are such
things as ghosts," said Caddy, laughing; "I for one wouldn't like to live
there--but here we are at Mr. Thomas's--how short the way has seemed!"
Caroline gave a fierce rap at the door, which was opened by old Aunt
Rachel, the fat cook, who had lived with the Thomases for a fabulous length
of time. She was an old woman when Mrs. Ellis came as a girl into the
family, and had given her many a cuff in days long past; in fact,
notwithstanding Mrs. Ellis had been married many years, and had children
almost as old as she herself was when she left Mr. Thomas, Aunt Rachel
could never be induced to regard her otherwise than as a girl.
"Oh, it's you, is it?" said she gruffly, as she opened the door; "don't
you think better break de door down at once-rapping as if you was guine to
tear off de knocker--is dat de way, gal, you comes to quality's houses? You
lived here long nuff to larn better dan dat--and dis is twice I've been to
de door in de last half-hour--if any one else comes dere they may stay
outside. Shut de door after you, and come into de kitchen, and don't keep
me standin' here all night," added she, puffing and blowing as she waddled
back into her sanctum.
Waiting until the irate old cook had recovered her breath, Mrs. Ellis
modestly inquired if Mrs. Thomas was at home. "Go up and see," was the
surly response. "You've been up stars often enuff to know de way--go long
wid you, gal, and don't be botherin' me, 'case I don't feel like bein'
bothered--now, mind I tell yer.--Here, you Cad, set down on dis stool, and
let that cat alone; I don't let any one play with my cat," continued she,
"and you'll jest let him alone, if you please, or I'll make you go sit in
de entry till your mother's ready to go. I don't see what she has you brats
tugging after her for whenever she comes here--she might jest as well leave
yer at home to darn your stockings--I 'spect dey want it."
Poor Caddy was boiling over with wrath; but deeming prudence the better
part of valour, she did not venture upon any wordy contest with Aunt
Rachel, but sat down upon the stool by the fire-place, in which a bright
fire was blazing. Up the chimney an old smoke-jack was clicking, whirling,
and making the most dismal noise imaginable. This old smoke-jack was Aunt
Rachel's especial _protege_, and she obstinately and successfully defended
it against all comers. She turned up her nose at all modern inventions
designed for the same use as entirely beneath her notice. She had been
accustomed to hearing its rattle for the last forty years, and would as
soon have thought of committing suicide as consenting to its removal.
She and her cat were admirably matched; he was as snappish and cross as
she, and resented with distended claws and elevated back all attempts on
the part of strangers to cultivate amicable relations with him. In fact,
Tom's pugnacious disposition was clearly evidenced by his appearance; one
side of his face having a very battered aspect, and the fur being torn off
his back in several places.
Caddy sat for some time surveying the old woman and her cat, in evident awe
of both. She regarded also with great admiration the scrupulously clean and
shining kitchen tins that garnished the walls and reflected the red light
of the blazing fire. The wooden dresser was a miracle of whiteness, and
ranged thereon was a set of old-fashioned blue china, on which was
displayed the usual number of those unearthly figures which none but the
Chinese can create. Tick, tick, went the old Dutch clock in the corner, and
the smoke-jack kept up its whirring noise. Old Tom and Aunt Rachel were
both napping; and so Caddy, having no other resource, went to sleep also.
Mrs. Ellis found her way without any difficulty to Mrs. Thomas's room. Her
gentle tap upon the door quite flurried that good lady, who (we speak it
softly) was dressing her wig, a task she entrusted to no other mortal
hands. She peeped out, and seeing who it was, immediately opened the door
without hesitation.
"Oh, it's you, is it? Come in, Ellen," said she; "I don't mind you."
"I've brought the night-dresses home," said Mrs. Ellis, laying her bundle
upon the table,--"I hope they'll suit."
"Oh, no doubt they will. Did you bring the bill?" asked Mrs. Thomas.
The bill was produced, and Mrs. Ellis sat down, whilst Mrs. Thomas counted
out the money. This having been duly effected, and the bill carefully
placed on the file, Mrs. Thomas also sat down, and commenced her usual
lamentation over the state of her nerves, and the extravagance of the
younger members of the family. On the latter subject she spoke very
feelingly. "Such goings on, Ellen, are enough to set me crazy--so many
nurses--and then we have to keep four horses--and it's company, company
from Monday morning until Saturday night; the house is kept upside-down
continually--money, money for everything--all going out, and nothing coming
in!"--and the unfortunate Mrs. Thomas whined and groaned as if she had not
at that moment an income of clear fifteen thousand dollars a year, and a
sister who might die any day and leave her half as much more.
Mrs. Thomas was the daughter of the respectable old gentleman whom Dr.
Whiston's grandfather had prepared for his final resting-place. Her
daughter had married into a once wealthy, but now decayed, Carolina family.
In consideration of the wealth bequeathed by her grandfather (who was a
maker of leather breeches, and speculator in general), Miss Thomas had
received the offer of the poverty-stricken hand of Mr. Morton, and had
accepted it with evident pleasure, as he was undoubtedly a member of one of
the first families of the South, and could prove a distant connection with
one of the noble families of England.
They had several children, and their incessant wants had rendered it
necessary that another servant should be kept. Now Mrs. Thomas had long had
her eye on Charlie, with a view of incorporating him with the Thomas
establishment, and thought this would be a favourable time to broach the
subject to his mother: she therefore commenced by inquiring--
"How have you got through the winter, Ellen? Everything has been so dear
that even we have felt the effect of the high prices."
"Oh, tolerably well, I thank you. Husband's business, it is true, has not
been as brisk as usual, but we ought not to complain; now that we have got
the house paid for, and the girls do so much sewing, we get on very
nicely."
"I should think three children must be something of a burthen--must be hard
to provide for."
"Oh no, not at all," rejoined Mrs. Ellis, who seemed rather surprised at
Mrs. Thomas's uncommon solicitude respecting them. "We have never found the
children a burthen, thank God--they're rather a comfort and a pleasure than
otherwise."
"I'm glad to hear you say so, Ellen--very glad, indeed, for I have been
quite disturbed in mind respecting you during the winter. I really several
times thought of sending to take Charlie off your hands: by-the-way, what
is he doing now?"
"He goes to school regularly--he hasn't missed a day all winter. You should
just see his writing," continued Mrs. Ellis, warming up with a mother's
pride in her only son--"he won't let the girls make out any of the bills,
but does it all himself--he made out yours."
Mrs. Thomas took down the file and looked at the bill again. "It's very
neatly written, very neatly written, indeed; isn't it about time that he
left school--don't you think he has education enough?" she inquired.
"His father don't. He intends sending him to another school, after
vacation, where they teach Latin and Greek, and a number of other
branches."
"Nonsense, nonsense, Ellen! If I were you, I wouldn't hear of it. There
won't be a particle of good result to the child from any such acquirements.
It isn't as though he was a white child. What use can Latin or Greek be to
a coloured boy? None in the world--he'll have to be a common mechanic, or,
perhaps, a servant, or barber, or something of that kind, and then what use
would all his fine education be to him? Take my advice, Ellen, and don't
have him taught things that will make him feel above the situation he, in
all probability, will have to fill. Now," continued she, "I have a proposal
to make to you: let him come and live with me awhile--I'll pay you well,
and take good care of him; besides, he will be learning something here,
good manners, &c. Not that he is not a well-mannered child; but, you know,
Ellen, there is something every one learns by coming in daily contact with
refined and educated people that cannot but be beneficial--come now, make
up your mind to leave him with me, at least until the winter, when the
schools again commence, and then, if his father is still resolved to send
him back to school, why he can do so. Let me have him for the summer at
least."
Mrs. Ellis, who had always been accustomed to regard Mrs. Thomas as a
miracle of wisdom, was, of course, greatly impressed with what she had
said. She had lived many years in her family, and had left it to marry Mr.
Ellis, a thrifty mechanic, who came from Savanah, her native city. She had
great reverence for any opinion Mrs. Thomas expressed; and, after some
further conversation on the subject, made up her mind to consent to the
proposal, and left her with the intention of converting her husband to her
way of thinking.
On descending to the kitchen she awoke Caddy from a delicious dream, in
which she had been presented with the black silk that they had seen in the
shop window marked eighty-seven and a half cents a yard. In the dream she
had determined to make it up with tight sleeves and infant waist, that
being the most approved style at that period.
"Five breadths are not enough for the skirt, and if I take six I must skimp
the waist and cape," murmured she in her sleep.
"Wake up, girl! What are you thinking about?" said her mother, giving her
another shake.
"Oh!" said Caddy, with a wild and disappointed look--"I was dreaming,
wasn't I? I declare I thought I had that silk frock in the window."
"The girls' heads are always running on finery--wake up, and come along,
I'm going home."
Caddy followed her mother out, leaving Aunt Rachel and Tom nodding at each
other as they dozed before the fire.
That night Mr. Ellis and his wife had a long conversation upon the proposal
of Mrs. Thomas; and after divers objections raised by him, and set aside
by her, it was decided that Charlie should be permitted to go there for the
holidays at least; after which, his father resolved he should be sent to
school again.
Charlie, the next morning, looked very blank on being informed of his
approaching fate. Caddy undertook with great alacrity to break the dismal
tidings to him, and enlarged in a glowing manner upon what times he might
expect from Aunt Rachel.
"I guess she'll keep you straight;--you'll see sights up there! She is
cross as sin--she'll make you wipe your feet when you go in and out, if no
one else can."
"Let him alone, Caddy," gently interposed Esther; "it is bad enough to be
compelled to live in a house with that frightful old woman, without being
annoyed about it beforehand. If I could help it, Charlie, you should not
go."
"I know you'd keep me home if you could--but old Cad, here, she always
rejoices if anything happens to me. I'll be hanged if I stay there," said
he. "I won't live at service--I'd rather be a sweep, or sell apples on the
dock. I'm not going to be stuck up behind their carriage, dressed up like a
monkey in a tail coat--I'll cut off my own head first." And with this
sanguinary threat he left the house, with his school-books under his arm,
intending to lay the case before his friend and adviser, the redoubtable
and sympathising Kinch.