Home Again.
To Charlie the summer had been an exceedingly short one--time had flown so
pleasantly away. Everything that could be done to make the place agreeable
Mrs. Bird had effected. Amongst the number of her acquaintances who had
conceived a regard for her young _protege_ was a promising artist to whom
she had been a friend and patroness. Charlie paid him frequent visits, and
would sit hour after hour in his studio, watching the progress of his work.
Having nothing else at the time to amuse him, he one day asked the artist's
permission to try his hand at a sketch. Being supplied with the necessary
materials, he commenced a copy of a small drawing, and was working
assiduously, when the artist came and looked over his shoulder.
"Did you ever draw before?" he asked, with a start of surprise.
"Never," replied Charlie, "except on my slate at school. I sometimes used
to sketch the boys' faces."
"And you have never received any instructions?"
"Never--not even a hint," was the answer.
"And this is the first time you have attempted a sketch upon paper?"
"Yes; the very first."
"Then you are a little prodigy," said the artist, slapping him upon the
shoulder. "I must take you in hand. You have nothing else to do; come here
regularly every day, and I'll teach you. Will you come?"
"Certainly, if you wish it. But now, tell me, do you really think that
drawing good?" "Well, Charlie, if I had done it, it would be pronounced
very bad for me; but, coming from your hands, it's something astonishing."
"Really, now--you're not joking me?"
"No, Charlie, I'm in earnest--I assure you I am; it is drawn with great
spirit, and the boy that you have put in by the pump is exceedingly well
done."
This praise served as a great incentive to our little friend, who, day
after day thenceforth, was found at the studio busily engaged with his
crayons, and making rapid progress in his new art.
He had been thus occupied some weeks, and one morning was hurrying to the
breakfast-table, to get through his meal, that he might be early at the
studio, when he found Mrs. Bird in her accustomed seat looking very sad.
"Why, what is the matter?" he asked, on observing the unusually grave face
of his friend.
"Oh, Charlie, my dear! I've received very distressing intelligence from
Philadelphia. Your father is quite ill."
"My father ill!" cried he, with a look of alarm.
"Yes, my dear! quite sick--so says my letter. Here are two for you."
Charlie hastily broke the seal of one, and read as follows:--
"MY DEAR LITTLE BROTHER,--We are all in deep distress in
consequence of the misfortunes brought upon us by the mob.
Our home has been destroyed; and, worse than all, our poor
father was caught, and so severely beaten by the rioters that
for some days his life was entirely despaired of. Thank God!
he is now improving, and we have every reasonable hope of
his ultimate recovery. Mother, Caddy, and I, as you may
well suppose, are almost prostrated by this accumulation of
misfortunes, and but for the kindness of Mr. Walters, with
whom we are living, I do not know what would have become
of us. Dear Mr. and Mrs. Garie--[Here followed a passage
that was so scored and crossed as to be illegible. After a
short endeavour to decipher it, he continued:] We would
like to see you very much, and mother grows every day more
anxious for your return. I forgot to add, in connection with
the mob, that Mr. Walters's house was also attacked, but
unsuccessfully, the rioters having met a signal repulse.
Mother and Caddy send a world of love to you. So does
Kinch, who comes every day to see us and is, often extremely
useful. Give our united kind regards to Mrs. Bird, and thank
her in our behalf for her great kindness to you.--Ever yours,
"ESTHER.
"P.S.--Do try and manage to come home soon."
The tears trickled down Charlie's cheek as he perused the letter, which,
when he had finished reading, he handed to Mrs. Bird, and then commenced
the other. This proved to be from Kinch, who had spent all the spare time
at his disposal since the occurrence of the mob in preparing it.
"To MR. CHARLES ELLIS, ESQ., at MRS. BIRD'S.
"_Philadelphia_.
"DEAR SIR AND HONNORED FRIEND.--I take This chance To
Write To you To tell You that I am Well, And that we are
all well Except Your father, who Is sick; and I hope you are
Enjoying the same Blessin. We had An Awful fight, And I
was There, and I was One of The Captings. I had a sord
on; and the next Mornin we had a grate Brekfast. But
nobody Eat anything but me, And I was obliged to eat, Or
the Wittles would have spoiled. The Mob had Guns as Big as
Cannun; And they Shot them Off, and the holes Are in The
Shutter yet; And when You come Back, I will show them
to You. Your Father is very bad; And I Have gone back
to school, And I am Licked every day because I don't
Know my Lesson. A great big boy, with white woolly hair
and Pinkish Grey eyes, has got Your seat. I Put a Pin
under him one Day, And he told On me; and We Are to
Have a fight tomorrow. The boys Call Him 'Short and
Dirty,' because he ain't tall, and never washes His Face.
We Have got a new Teacher for the 5th Division. He's a
Scorcher, And believes in Rat Tan. I am to Wear My new
Cloths Next Sunday. Excuse This long letter. Your Friend
till death,
"KINCH SANDERS DE YOUNGE.
[Illustration: skull and cross bones]
"P.S. This it the best Skull and Cross-bones That
I can make. Come home soon, Yours &c.,
"K. S. DE YOUNGE, ESQ."
Charlie could not but smile through his tears, as he read this curious
epistle, which was not more remarkable for its graceful composition than
its wonderful chirography. Some of the lines were written in blue ink, some
in red, and others in that pale muddy black which is the peculiar colour of
ink after passing through the various experiments of school-boys, who
generally entertain the belief that all foreign substances, from
molasses-candy to bread-crumbs, necessarily improve the colour and quality
of that important liquid.
"Why every other word almost is commenced with a capital; and I declare
he's even made some in German text," cried Charlie, running his finger
mirthfully along the lines, until he came to "Your father is very bad."
Here the tears came welling up again--the shower had returned almost before
the sun had departed; and, hiding his face in his hands, he leant sobbing
on the table.
"Cheer up, Charlie!--cheer up, my little man! all may go well yet."
"Mrs. Bird," he sobbed, "you've been very kind to me; yet I want to go
home. I must see mother and father. You see what Esther writes,--they want
me to come home; do let me go."
"Of course you shall go, if you wish. Yet I should like you to remain with
me, if you will."
"No, no, Mrs. Bird, I mustn't stay; it wouldn't be right for me to remain
here, idle and enjoying myself, and they so poor and unhappy at home. I
couldn't stay," said he, rising from the table,--"I must go."
"Well, my dear, you can't go now. Sit down and finish your breakfast, or
you will have a head-ache."
"I'm not hungry--I can't eat," he replied; "my appetite has all gone." And
stealing away from the room, he went up into his chamber, threw himself on
the bed, and wept bitterly.
Mrs. Bird was greatly distressed at the idea of losing her little
favourite. He had been so much with her that she had become strongly
attached to him, and therefore looked forward to his departure with
unfeigned regret. But Charlie could not be persuaded to stay; and
reluctantly Mrs. Bird made arrangements for his journey home. Even the
servants looked a little sorry when they heard of his intended departure;
and Reuben the coachman actually presented him with a jack-knife as a token
of his regard.
Mrs. Bird accompanied him to the steamer, and placed him under the special
care of the captain; so that he was most comfortably provided for until his
arrival in New York, where he took the cars direct for home.
Not having written to inform them on what day he might be expected, he
anticipated giving them a joyful surprise, and, with this end in view,
hastened in the direction of Mr. Walters's. As he passed along, his eye was
attracted by a figure before him which he thought he recognized, and on
closer inspection it proved to be his sister Caddy.
Full of boyish fun, he crept up behind her, and clasped his hands over her
eyes, exclaiming, in an assumed voice, "Now, who am I?"
"Go away, you impudent, nasty thing!" cried Caddy, plunging violently.
Charlie loosed his hold; she turned, and beheld her brother.
"Oh! Charlie, Charlie! is it you? Why, bless you, you naughty fellow, how
you frightened me!" said she, throwing her arms round his neck, and kissing
him again and again. "When did you come? Oh, how delighted mother and Ess
will be!" "I only arrived about half an hour ago. How are mother and
father and Esther?"
"Mother and Ess are well, and father better. But I'm so glad to see you,"
she cried, with a fresh burst of tears and additional embraces.
"Why, Cad," said he, endeavouring to suppress some watery sensations of his
own, "I'm afraid you're not a bit pleased at my return--you're actually
crying about it."
"Oh, I'm so glad to see you that I can't help it," she replied, as she fell
to crying and kissing him more furiously than before.
Charlie became much confused at these repeated demonstrations of joyful
affection in the crowded street, and, gently disengaging her, remarked,
"See, Caddy, everybody is looking at us; let us walk on."
"I had almost forgot I was sent on an errand--however, it's not of much
consequence--I'll go home again with you;" and taking his hand, they
trudged on together.
"How did you say father was?" he asked again.
"Oh, he's better bodily; that is, he has some appetite, sits up every day,
and is gradually getting stronger; but he's all wrong here," said she,
tapping her forehead. "Sometimes he don't know any of us--and it makes us
all feel so bad." Here the tears came trickling down again, as she
continued: "Oh, Charlie! what those white devils will have to answer for!
When I think of how much injury they have done us, I _hate_ them! I know
it's wrong to hate anybody--but I can't help it; and I believe God hates
them as much as I do!"
Charlie looked gloomy; and, as he made no rejoinder, she continued, "We
didn't save a thing, not even a change of clothes; they broke and burnt up
everything; and then the way they beat poor father was horrible--horrible!
Just think--they chopped his fingers nearly all off, so that he has only
the stumps left. Charlie, Charlie!" she cried, wringing her hands, "it's
heart-rending to see him--he can't even feed himself, and he'll never be
able to work again!"
"Don't grieve, Cad," said Charlie, with an effort to suppress his own
tears; "I'm almost a man now," continued he, drawing himself up--"don't be
afraid, I'll take care of you all!"
Thus conversing, they reached Mr. Walters's. Caddy wanted Charlie to stop
and look at the damage effected by the mob upon the outside of the house,
but he was anxious to go in, and ran up the steps and gave the bell a very
sharp pull. The servant who opened the door was about to make some
exclamation of surprise, and was only restrained by a warning look from
Charlie. Hurrying past them, Caddy led the way to the room where her mother
and Esther were sitting. With a cry of joy Mrs. Ellis caught him in her
arms, and, before he was aware of their presence, he found himself half
smothered by her and Esther.
They had never been separated before his trip to Warmouth; and their
reunion, under such circumstances, was particularly affecting. None of them
could speak for a few moments, and Charlie clung round his mother's neck as
though he would never loose his hold. "Mother, mother!" was all he could
utter; yet in that word was comprised a world of joy and affection.
Esther soon came in for her share of caresses; then Charlie inquired,
"Where's father?"
"In here," said Mrs. Ellis, leading the way to an adjoining room. "I don't
think he will know you--perhaps he may."
In one corner of the apartment, propped up in a large easy chair by a
number of pillows, sat poor Mr. Ellis, gazing vacantly about the room and
muttering to himself. His hair had grown quite white, and his form was
emaciated in the extreme; there was a broad scar across his forehead, and
his dull, lustreless eyes were deeply sunken in his head. He took no notice
of them as they approached, but continued muttering and looking at his
hands.
Charlie was almost petrified at the change wrought in his father. A few
months before he had left him in the prime of healthful manhood; now he was
bent and spectrelike, and old in appearance as if the frosts of eighty
winters had suddenly fallen on him. Mrs. Ellis laid her hand gently upon
his shoulder, and said, "Husband, here's Charlie." He made no reply, but
continued muttering and examining his mutilated hands. "It's Charlie," she
repeated.
"Oh, ay! nice little boy!" he replied, vacantly; "whose son is he?"
Mrs. Ellis's voice quivered as she reiterated, "It's Charlie--our
Charlie!--don't you know him?"
"Oh, yes! nice little boy--nice little boy. Oh!" he continued, in a
suppressed and hurried tone, as a look of alarm crossed his face; "run home
quick, little boy! and tell your mother they're coming, thousands of them;
they've guns, and swords, and clubs. Hush! There they come--there they
come!" And he buried his face in the shawl, and trembled in an agony of
fright.
"Oh, mother, this is dreadful!" exclaimed Charlie. "Don't he know any of
you?"
"Yes; sometimes his mind comes back--very seldom, though--only for a very
little while. Come away: talking to him sometimes makes him worse." And
slowly and sorrowfully the two left the apartment.
That evening, after Mr. Ellis had been safely bestowed in bed, the family
gathered round the fire in the room of Mrs. Ellis, where Charlie
entertained them with a description of Warmouth and of the manner in which
he had passed the time whilst there. He was enthusiastic respecting Mrs.
Bird and her kindness. "Mother, she is such a _dear_ old lady: if I'd been
as white as snow, and her own son, she couldn't have been kinder to me. She
didn't want me to come away, and cried ever so much. Let me show you what
she gave me!" Charlie thrust his hand into his pocket, and drew out a small
wallet, from which he counted out four ten-dollar bills, two fives, and a
two dollar and a half gold piece, "Ain't I rich!" said he, as, with the air
of a millionaire, he tossed the money upon a table. "Now," he continued,
"do you know what I'm about to do?" Not receiving any answer from his
wondering sisters or mother, he added, "Why, just this!--here, mother,
this is yours," said he, placing the four ten-dollar bills before her; "and
here are five apiece for Esther and Cad; the balance is for your humble
servant. Now, then," he concluded, "what do you think of that?"
Mrs. Ellis looked fondly at him, and, stroking his head, told him that he
was a good son; and Esther and Caddy declared him to be the best brother in
town.
"Now, girls," said he, with the air of a patriarch, "what do you intend to
do with your money?"
"Mine will go towards buying me a dress, and Esther will save hers for a
particular purpose," said Caddy. "I'll tell you something about her and Mr.
Walters," continued she, with a mischievous look at her sister.
"Oh, Caddy--don't! Ain't you ashamed to plague me so?" asked Esther,
blushing to the roots of her hair. "Mother, pray stop her," cried she,
pleadingly.
"Hush, Caddy!" interposed her mother, authoritatively; "you shall do no
such thing."
"Well," resumed Caddy, "mother says I mustn't tell; but I can say this
much----"
Esther here put her hand over her sister's mouth and effectually prevented
any communication she was disposed to make.
"Never mind her, Ess!" cried Charlie; "you'll tell me all in good time,
especially if it's anything worth knowing."
Esther made no reply, but, releasing her sister, hurried out of the room,
and went upstairs to Charlie's chamber, where he found her on retiring for
the night.
"I'm glad you're here, Ess," said he, "you'll indulge me. Here is the
key--open my trunk and get me out a nightcap; I'm too tired, or too lazy,
to get it for myself." Esther stooped down, opened the trunk, and commenced
searching for the article of head-gear in question. "Come, Ess," said
Charles, coaxingly, "tell me what this is about you and Mr. Walters."
She made no reply at first, but fumbled about in the bottom of the trunk,
professedly in search of the nightcap which she at that moment held in her
hand. "Can't you tell me?" he again asked.
"Oh, there's nothing to tell, Charlie!" she answered.
"There must be something, Ess, or you wouldn't have blushed up so when Cad
was about to speak of it. Do," said he, approaching her, and putting his
arm round her neck--"do tell me all about it--I am sure there is some
secret!"
"Oh, no, Charlie--there is no secret; it's only this----" Here she stopped,
and, blushing, turned her head away.
"Ess, this is nonsense," said Charlie, impatiently: "if it's anything worth
knowing, why can't you tell a fellow? Come," said he, kissing her, "tell
me, now, like a dear old Ess as you are."
"Well, Charlie," said she, jerking the words out with an effort, "Mr.--Mr.
Walters has asked me to marry him!"
"Phew--gemini! that is news!" exclaimed Charlie. "And are you going to
accept him Ess?"
"I don't know," she answered.
"Don't know!" repeated Charlie, in a tone of surprise. "Why, Ess, I'm
astonished at you--such a capital fellow as he is! Half the girls of our
acquaintance would give an eye for the chance."
"But he is so rich!" responded Esther.
"Well, now, that's a great objection, ain't it! I should say, all the
better on that account," rejoined Charlie.
"The money is the great stumbling-block," continued she; "everybody would
say I married him for that."
"Then _everybody_ would lie, _as_ everybody very often does! If I was you,
Ess, and loved him, I shouldn't let his fortune stand in the way. I wish,"
continued he, pulling up his shirt-collar, "that some amiable young girl
with a fortune of a hundred thousand dollars, would make me an offer--I'd
like to catch myself refusing her!"
The idea of a youth of his tender years marrying any one, seemed so
ludicrous to Esther, that she burst into a hearty fit of laughter, to the
great chagrin of our hero, who seemed decidedly of the opinion that his
sister had not a proper appreciation of his years and inches.
"Don't laugh, Ess; but tell me--do you really intend to refuse him?"
"I can't decide yet, Charlie," answered she seriously; "if we were situated
as we were before--were not such absolute paupers--I wouldn't hesitate to
accept him; but to bring a family of comparative beggars upon him--I can't
make up my mind to do that."
Charlie looked grave as Esther made this last objection; boy as he was, he
felt its weight and justice. "Well, Ess," rejoined he, "I don't know what
to say about it--of course I can't advise. What does mother say?"
"She leaves it entirely to me," she answered. "She says I must act just as
I feel is right."
"I certainly wouldn't have him at all, Ess, if I didn't love him; and if I
did, I shouldn't let the money stand in the way--so, good night!"
Charlie slept very late the next morning, and was scarcely dressed when
Esther knocked at his door, with the cheerful tidings that her father had a
lucid interval and was waiting to see him.
Dressing himself hastily, he followed her into their father's room. When he
entered, the feeble sufferer stretched out his mutilated arms towards him
and clasped him round the neck, "They tell me," said he, "that you came
yesterday, and that I didn't recognize you. I thought, when I awoke this
morning, that I had a dim recollection of having seen some dear face; but
my head aches so, that I often forget--yes, often forget. My boy," he
continued, "you are all your mother and sisters have to depend upon now;
I'm--I'm----" here his voice faltered, as he elevated his stumps of
hands--"I'm helpless; but you must take care of them. I'm an old man now,"
said he despondingly.
"I will, father; I'll try _so_ hard" replied Charlie.
"It was cruel in them, wasn't it, son," he resumed. "See, they've made me
helpless for ever!" Charlie restrained the tears that were forcing
themselves up, and rejoined, "Never fear, father! I'll do my best; I trust
I shall soon be able to take care of you."
His father did not understand him--his mind was gone again, and he was
staring vacantly about him. Charlie endeavoured to recall his attention,
but failed, for he began muttering about the mob and his hands; they were
compelled to quit the room, and leave him to himself, as he always became
quiet sooner by being left alone.