THE VOICE OF CHILDHOOD.
"Ah! Well may sages bow to thee,
Dear, loving, guileless Infancy!
And sigh beside their lofty lore
For one untaught delight of thine;
And feel they'd give their learning's store,
To know again thy truth divine."
MRS. OSGOOD.
"And now behold him kneeling there,
By the child's side, in humble prayer;
While the same sun-beam shines upon
The guilty and the guiltless one;
And hymns of joy proclaim through heaven,
The triumph of a soul forgiven."
MOORE'S "LALLA ROOKH."
"Mother, why does every one pass poor old Quady by without giving him
even a smile? Is not that the reason why he looks so sorrowful? He
looked so sad when I met him this afternoon, that I could not help
holding out the daisies which I had gathered for you, towards him; and
when he did not take them, but stood looking at me without speaking a
word, I asked him if he did not want the flowers to carry to his home,
and put them into his hand; and when I had come up with the
school-girls, who had run away when they saw him coming, I looked after
him, and he was still standing by the road-side, with the flowers in his
hand, watching us as we went up the street. Perhaps he was resting a
little, for it is a long way to the low home over the commons."
"Quady, my dear, no doubt feels that he is alone in the world, for he is
the only one that is left of a large tribe of Indians; all of his kind
are gone, and are buried, no one but himself knows where. He does not
look upon the pale faces as brothers, though they treat him kindly. He
feels that wrong has been shown his ancestors at their hands. I am glad,
my child, that you were kind to the Indian."
"Yes, mother, I love everybody; but I think I love those best who look
as if no one cared for them. I suppose everybody loves poor Quady, only
they forget to let him know it."
"You like dat old Ingin, Sea-flower? why, he almost as black as Bingo
hesef."
"Do you think I do not love you, Vingo, because you are black? You are
always good to me, and what would I do without you to take me to the
shore, whenever I like to go?"
"O, little missy, I tink you can sympetize wid old black Bingo; but den,
ebry body not like you; you's one ob de Lord's chilen hesef."
"We are all the Lord's children, Vingo," said Mrs. Grosvenor; "and we
should walk in the paths of righteousness, that we may be worthy of his
name. You may go, now."
"What does Vingo mean, mother? he talks so strangely sometimes about my
being left here by the Lord, and goes on muttering something to himself,
which I cannot understand, and laughs as if he was very happy."
"It is his way of expressing himself, my dear; the negroes are a
peculiar race."
"Yes, I think they are; I like their ways, they are always so kind. Are
not their dispositions better than those of some white people? I never
heard of a black man being cruel to any one, but I have seen the prints
of a whip-lash on Vingo's neck, where he said his old massa used to
whip him; and I asked him many times over, if he was sure it was a white
man who whipped him, and he said yes, he was sure, for he remembers he
used to wish white folks were black, so they could not tell which were
the negroes."
"There are some very hard-hearted people in the world. Vingo was brought
up in slavery; when you are a little older you will understand
it better."
"Dear mother, you know what is best for me; but often, when I am
interested in what is said, and ask questions, people tell me I will
understand it when I am a little older; and when I sit down by myself,
and they think I have forgotten all about it, I find myself wishing I
was "a little older," for it disappoints me so much to leave a story not
finished."
Mrs. Grosvenor looked at the child in silence.
"I have not displeased you, dear mother, have I? I did not feel that I was
saying anything wrong."
"No, darling; I did not think you would understand me, that was the
reason why I did not explain to you. I am always ready to talk with you,
if you can comprehend what I am saying."
"Never mind, mother, I am six years old; it won't be a great while
before I shall be 'a little older,' and then I can realize how very good
you are to me, my dear mother, and how patient you are."
Mrs. Grosvenor clasped the child in her arms. "What makes little pet
look so sober to-night?" asked Captain Grosvenor, as taking her on his
knee, he pushed the dark brown curls from off her forehead, and looked
into her mild, blue eyes. "What makes Sea-flower so quiet? Has anything
happened to either of your seven kittens? or has some flower which has
lived already a week longer than nature designed, at last withered, and
gone the way of all frailties?"
"O, father, I should be very wicked if I were not happy, when I have so
much to make me so; but sometimes, when I hear the shore roaring so loud
as it does this evening, and look up at the stars, as they twinkle in
their homes far away in the sky, there is something which comes over me
of sadness, making me a great deal happier; and there is one particular
star which I always notice, for it seems as if it was looking down at me
so gently, that I forget myself, and put out my hand to touch it, as if
it was not so far away; and I fancy sometimes that the star can read my
thoughts, for it seems to smile when I am happiest."
"You are a little fanciful creature; you must learn to leave off
dreaming when you are awake."
"What shall you dream about when father goes away to sea again?" asked
Harry.
"I think mother will not let him go; we cannot spare him; but if you
should go, father, I shall love to dream of you very often; I will think
of you every day, sailing on the water with a heart so light. O, it must
be so pleasant to live, to sleep on the water! And you will want to see
dear mother and Harry, when you are so far away; you will not forget
us;" and she hid her cheek in the hardy captain's bosom.
"No, no, darling, I shan't forget you; but we wont talk any more about
it now; I have not gone yet."
What was it made that stout man's voice tremulous, as he called for his
evening paper? Many a time had that stern voice been heard above the
hurricane's roar, giving the word of command,--why did it tremble now?
Was it that voice of childhood which sank into his heart?
* * * * *
"Missus, de sun hab done gone, now, de chllens hab all gone from school
long ago, and Bingo's two eyes hab clean gone stretched, looking up de
road for de Sea-flower," remarked that worthy, putting his ebony head in
at the drawing-room door, where sat Mrs. Grosvenor, so busily engaged
making those garments for her husband, which she feared would be needed,
alas! so soon that she had not perceived the hours were gliding on
apace, and that it was long past the time when Sea-flower usually came
tripping in from school to receive her evening kiss, and to tell over
the events of the day.
"Has Harry come home yet? she may have gone up to the High School to
meet him."
"Yes, missus, massa Harry here a long time."
"Then you had better go and see what keeps her; you will probably meet
her on the way, and if it is not too late you may take the horse and
give her a ride."
"Yes, missus;" and the jet pony, so many shades lighter than his driver,
was soon lost in the distance.
The last faint shadows of the sun had died away, the moon had risen in
all her queenly beauty, and Vingo had not returned; neither had anything
been seen of the Sea-flower since she had left home early in the
afternoon; and now Mrs. Grosvenor really began to feel anxious, as she
stood looking out into the night; for, although the child was accustomed
to stroll about the fields in search of wild flowers, whenever she
liked, she had never before stayed away so long.
"Husband, had you not better go and see what has become of her? I cannot
think what keeps them."
"It is a mystery; but give yourself no uneasiness; I'll be bound the
child has made a safe harbor somewhere. She usually has a
look-out aloft."
"Ah! there they come, under a full press of sail!" cried Harry, who
loved well to imitate the nautical phrases of his father. "Does she not
make a grand figure-head!"
"Figure-head!" exclaimed Vingo; "I am tinking, young massa, if dis 'ere
head ob mine had not been made so solid like, 'spressly for figuring,
dat it been a powerful time afore you cotch sight ob dis bit ob
fly-away again. De good Lord be praised! but if I don't tink little
missy so filled wid what de angels libs on dat she make use ob de shadow
ob dar wings to take herself away ober dose yar commons! It make me
smile to tink how dat old Ingin look at Sea-flower, as if de sun was
puttin' out his eyes."
"Why, my child, you surely have not been out to Quady's hut! it is a
long way."
"Ha! a fast sailor, always has a fair breeze; dropped anchor in the best
harbor in these parts! But what's this? colors half-mast?" exclaimed the
captain, as he caught sight of a little pouch, woven together of bright
colored basket stuff, slung over her shoulder; a little drab paw,
darting from out its deepest recesses in pursuit of a tantalizing curl,
soon explains how matters stand, and a voice of the greatest feline
sweetness is heard in reply to divers catlike salutations, proceeding
from the adjoining apartment.
"This is my wallet, which Quady has made for me to carry my kittens in;
and pussy has enjoyed it so much! 'Tis the way Quady's people used to
carry their babies through these very streets, only there were prettier
walks here then. O, he has told me so many pretty stories!"
"How came you to have your kitten with you? and why did you go away so
far, and stay so late, my dear? I have been looking for you a
long time."
"O, mother, I will tell you all about it. As I was bidding my kittens
good-bye, after having a little talk with them, as I usually do before
going to school, I missed one of the smallest, which I call Charity,
because she always looks up at the larger ones, when they play with her
too roughly, in such a forgiving way. I looked all around, and not
finding her, thought she must have strayed away by herself, and I ran
off to school. Our lesson for to-day was Faith, Hope, and Charity; as I
read the last word I looked down, and there was my own Charity peeping
at me from out my pocket. I explained to my teacher how it happened, for
I thought she would be displeased; but having an errand into the next
room just then, she did not think of kitten, who lay quietly sleeping
again; and when I had said all my lessons, my teacher excused me, saying
it was because I had been a good girl. And so we strolled over the
commons together, Charity and I, and I dressed her in wild flowers, and
she did look so innocent! On we went, I running after kitten, and then
kitten after me, when, before I thought how far we had come, I espied
Quady's low home a little way off, and he was sitting at the door. He
did not see me until I stood before him, and then he went into his house
and brought out a large pipe and gave to me; I thought it so strange
that poor Quady should think a little girl could smoke a pipe, but I
took it to please him, and then he showed me so many curious things;
there was a large bow, and arrows with sharp bits of iron in their
heads, and he was going to shoot a little sparrow which sat upon the
fence, but I caught his arm, and begged him not to kill the poor thing.
I told him God made the sparrow to be happy, and he asked me if I meant
the Great Spirit, if my God was his God? When I told him it was, he put
up his bow and came and sat down by me, and taking a little paper from
his bosom, unrolled it, and there were the daisies which I had given him
so long ago! He asked if the Great Spirit made them, too, and if he had
sent me to give them to him; and when I told him the great Spirit made
all the flowers, made everything, and loved everybody who loved him,
and that he would let his children all come home and live with him
by-and-by, the tears rolled down his cheeks, and he said,--'O! me see my
brothers, then! me not be all alone! Me love Great Spirit; Great Spirit
so good to send little white-face to tell me how to get home.' Then I
could not help crying myself, mother, for I thought I should like to
meet Quady's brothers there."
"Ah! bress de Lord, but it am good as a small bible to hear dat chile
talk;" was heard in a suppressed voice, as it went stable-ward.
Day after day passed, and that little one was often seen, attended by
old Nep, or in the arms of the faithful Vingo, on her way to the low
home over the commons, much to the horror of sensitive mothers, who
shook their heads and said, "she is a strange child." Never was
Sea-flower happier than when she might be allowed to go and see the
Indian; and it was indeed a strange sight to see that red man, the only
representative of a departed tribe, gazing upon the little one, as she
talked to him of Jesus and his word.
The autumn of the year had come. It was one of those soul-stirring days
in October, which cannot fail to arouse the most thoughtless mind to a
sense of the wonderful works of creation. The Sea-flower had gone to the
"low home over the commons." Hand in hand, that red man and the tender
child, they went their way, to where he pointed out the graves of his
people; there were no stones, not a mound to mark the spot. Why was
there need of any? He alone knew the place; none others had cared to
know, until now, when the number of his days had well-nigh been told,
this little child, of a summer's day, had breathed upon those ice-bound
springs, till they had broken their bands, and were gliding on in the
bright sun-light, smoothly on,--on, forever. There did the Indian lay
him down, where he would have them bury him; and there, for the first
and last time, did he breathe a prayer over the graves of the departed,
to that Great Spirit, whom he had been taught was the one great
Father of all.
"Mother, poor Quady is not so strong as he used to be; when he pounds
the corn, to make nice cakes for me, his hands tremble, and I notice he
takes all the broth which you send to him, for he says he has no
appetite for anything else."
It was a holiday. A great display of military had arrived from the
continent.
"Sea-flower, you will see the beautiful horses, and the epaulets, the
white plumes, and the shining swords, but they need not think to turn
your brain with all their splendor."
"Brother Harry, I should like to see all those splendid things, but I
had much rather go and see Quady to-day; it is several days since I have
been there, and we have such good times! I love to talk with him
so well."
"You strange little creature, you can go to see the Indian any time."
"Yes, but some how I feel as if I would like to go to-day. I know he
will like to see me;" and the child was soon on her way to the "low
home," with Nep, who carried the pail of broth. As she drew near, she
saw that Quady was not sitting at his door, as he usually did, to watch
for her, but instead, the door was closed, and everything around was
still; nothing was heard, save the breakers as they dashed upon the
shore. Opening the door, which was never fast, she saw before her, the
form of poor Quady, stretched upon the rude bed, and as he tossed to and
fro, in an uneasy slumber, he muttered the words,--"pale-face--gone."
"Pale-face has come! Quady, Pale-face has come to you! Look up, and take
some of the nice broth which I have brought."
Slowly he opened his eyes, and seeing the little one was by his side, he
raised his hands aloft and said, "Me thank Great Spirit; me afraid Great
Spirit take me home without seeing little Pale-face once more. Me see my
brothers soon; a little while, and Pale-face come to see us. Great
Spirit bless little Pale-face," he feebly said; "she make poor
Quady happy."
With that dying blessing his spirit took its flight. He had passed away,
the last one of his kind, he who had lived a life of solitude, apart
from the world, looking upon the white man as having taken from him his
home, his lands, and the forests which would have been his if the white
man had not, long years ago, laid them low; yes, he had breathed a
blessing, with his last breath, upon the pale-face. He who had not a
brother left to bury him, had thanked God that the Pale-face had come to
close his eyes; yes, it was the voice of childhood which had made his
last moments happy, had pointed out the road which leads the
wanderer home.
It was a scene to melt the hardest heart; that little child, scarcely as
high as the rude couch, reaching up to close the eyes of him whom she
should see no more. As she sat by his side, and looked around the room
where she had spent so many happy hours, a sense of loneliness crept
over her. There was the pipe which he had smoked, laid away on the
little chimney-piece, and by the bed-side was the pail of broth with
which she had thought to please him so much; and at the remembrance she
burst into tears, and her tears fell upon the hand of him who lay
sleeping. Neptune, hearing the sad tones of his mistress, came and
looked into her face; and when she took no notice of him, he crouched at
her feet, and howled piteously. And thus they found them, for the little
one could not think of leaving her dear Quady there alone. They buried
him, as he had wished, by the side of his brothers; and when the
Sea-flower gazed into that narrow house, so dark and still, she looked
up and said, "Mother, I shall love to look at the stars oftener now, for
he has gone to live among those bright and shining ones." Sadly did the
child miss her visits to the "low home," and when in years to come her
thoughts wandered over the past, her love for the poor lone Indian had
not diminished. The stars shone brighter and brighter, even as her light
was "shining unto the perfect day."
"What little missy look up in de sky so much for?" asked Vingo, as he
walked by the shore, with Sea-flower in his arms, as was his custom of a
bright moonlit evening.
"O, Vingo, it is so beautiful! I was watching those fleecy clouds, until
they seemed to be little waves in which the stars were sailing upward,
up, and as they looked back to us, their smile seemed to grow purer; and
I think I can see Quady among them. Don't you see him, Vingo?"
"Does you mean dose little black specks in de moon, missy?"
"No, Quady is one of the bright ones now; and you will be made white,
too, when you go there. Don't you want to go and be one of those bright
ones, Vingo?"
"Does all de white folks go dar?"
"Yes, if they love God when they are here; if they are good he will
take them home to be with him."
"Den I don't tink I wants to go dar."
"O, Vingo! that is very wicked! Why don't you want to go?"
"'Cause, missy, dey say old slabe massa am one ob de best men in de
whole ob Berginny, and I's 'fraid he catch Bingo and tie him up again."
At that moment a shadow was seen in the distance, and Harry came
bounding over the ground on the wings of the wind.
"Ah! I thought I should find you here, Sea-flower, making the
acquaintance of some of your sisters, as they hold up their heads in the
moonlight. Vingo, what do you think? Father has received orders to sail
in a week!"
"O, go way, massa Harry; what you mean by dat?" said Vingo, letting fall
his lower jaw, while the whites of his eyes looked as if they had some
time or other been in contact with a ghost.
"I mean that the Tantalizer will be ready for sea in a week, and Father
will go master of her on a Cape Horn voyage. O, if father would only let
me go with him, how delighted I should be! But he says I am too young,
that I am not strong enough; yet I know of boys two or three years
younger than I am, who have been around Cape Horn, and are now making a
second voyage. I have often heard old Captain Wendall tell of the first
voyage father made, when he was but ten years old, and how nimbly he ran
up to the mast-head, and was always the first to discover the whale as
she spouted, and would sing out, 'there she blows!' equal to an old tar.
I must prevail on father to let me go with him."
"Dear, dear Harry, do not talk so! Only think how mother will feel to
have father go! He has been at home so long, ever since I was born, and
how would she feel to have you both go away, and no one but Vingo and
myself to comfort her."
"No one but you to comfort her? You are worth a dozen like me, darling!"
and the little manly fellow threw his arms around her neck, and felt
that he had the very best sister in the world.
"Ah! young massa, I tinks you hab de right sort ob spirit; you's born to
be no land-lubber; but it my 'pinion you had better stay wid good, kind
missus and de Sea-flower a while longer; you not find a better berth,
I'm tinkin'."
"No, that I shall not; let me go where I will, I shall not find a
mother like her; and as for Sea-flower, I don't believe there was ever
another in the whole ocean like her."
"How funny you talk, Harry; you make me think of little Moses in the
bulrushes."
"Ah! there goes a gull, flying over my right shoulder, headed seaward;
the sailor's omen of good luck; perhaps father may change his mind,
after all."
"Harry, I want you to promise me you will say nothing about going to sea
before mother; will you promise?"
"I never could refuse you anything, little pussy, but you do not say
anything about yourself; would you not like to get rid of such a
graceless fellow?"
The child's sympathies had been so wrapped up in her mother's grief,
that it had not occurred to her mind how much she should miss her dear
father; and as she thought of Harry, who had always played so gently
with her, and came every night, after her mother had heard her prayers,
and told such beautiful stories, about the good little fairies, until
she fell asleep, and dreamed they had all come to be her sisters; and
was awakened in the morning by the tramping of so many little feet, (in
near proximity to those brown curls, which seemed to have been awake
long before their mistress), and saw fourteen blue eyes looking at her,
besides two roguish black ones, behind the curtain, which she did not
see, and would wonder if it might not have been the kittens, after all,
that had whispered in her ear. As she thought of all his kindness to
her, she was silent; and as the negro drew the mantle more closely about
her, he wondered if the little drop which fell upon his hand was of dew.
Preparations for the sailing of the Tantalizer were rapidly going on.
She was a stout-built ship of three hundred tons burthen, the pride of
her owners; and why should she not have been? for many a rich cargo had
she brought to them, thousands and thousands of dollars had she added to
their possessions; many a hurricane had she outrode, and as she sat so
proudly on the water, she looked as if she might outlive many more.
Captain Grosvenor had sailed master of her upon six successive voyages,
making a "telling" voyage each time, until, his fortune becoming
sufficiently ample, he had thought to spend the rest of his days on
shore; but, after a respite of seven years, he had become so restless,
and so longed to try his fortune upon the water again, that, receiving a
flattering offer from those in whose employ he had formerly sailed, he
consented, as he said, "for the last time," to make a voyage in his
favorite Tantalizer. Mrs. Grosvenor had earnestly hoped that her husband
would follow the sea no more, knowing that their means were sufficient
to supply all their wants; and since God in his providence had consigned
this little one to their care, she had congratulated herself that there
was one more tie to bind her husband to his home; and, indeed, the child
was as dear to him as if she had been his own flesh and blood; and as
those last seven years upon shore stood up before him, now that he was
about to leave all that was dear to him, as having been spent more in
keeping with God's laws than in any previous part of his life, he felt
that he was a better man. Naturally of a noble, generous disposition, he
had gained the respect of all who knew him. Pleasant and gentlemanly in
his manners, he was no less firm in his duties on shipboard, and his
stern word of command was received by his men with the same hearty
"aye, aye," as when he cracked a joke with them over the club-room fire.
Harry had kept his promise in regard to his wish to go with his father;
and when he looked into his mother's face, and saw how mournful was her
smile, he felt that it would indeed be cruel to think of leaving her.
But when he heard the sailors saying, as he clambered up the rigging,
that it was a pity such a sprightly little fellow could not go along
with them, his desire to ship for the voyage knew no bounds, and seeking
his father, in the cabin, he had a long interview with him, gaining the
promise that when he should return he would secure for him a good lay,
and that he might then commence the nautical career, which the captain
plainly saw his inclinations had marked out.
The day had arrived when the ship would sail. Every thing had been made
ready for a long voyage, should the captain not meet with his usual good
fortune, which was considered unnecessary by her owners, so sanguine
were they of her success; such implicit faith did they place in the
abilities of her captain, that in securing his services, they looked
upon the voyage as told. Ah! who can tell if that proud ship may ever
return? Was there not one who looked upon her thus? Within that happy
home, now so desolate, sat the wife of him who had just taken his leave
of her, and the bitterness of that hour who can tell? She only who has
tasted the same cup of sorrow; she who has given to the mercies of the
deep him whom she holds most dear on earth. Such an one can indeed
realize what were the feelings of that wife, as she sat at the window,
her eye fixed upon the ship which was bearing away him whom she might
never see more. The white sail is smaller and smaller, until it appears
but a speck, and is finally lost in the distance. And then what a sense
of desolation! Oh, might we all seek for strength in time of trouble, of
Him who will not turn a deaf ear to the cries of his children! Who hath
said, "As thy day, so shall thy strength be." Would that all might seek
for comfort in the hour of trial, as did that stricken one,--in prayer!
The Sea-flower had, with Harry, accompanied her father in the ship, as
she was towed out by the steamer over the bar. As they were about to
cast off, when the steamer should return, the father sought to bid his
children farewell. Turning to his boy, he bade him be all that a son and
brother should be. With one long embrace his eye rested upon the
Sea-flower; his voice failed him.
"Father," said the child, "you will soon come to us again; then you will
never leave us;" pointing to a little cross which she had privately
embroidered and set up in his state-room, she said, "you will be happy,
father, so happy, on the water! But sometimes, when the stars look down
upon you, or the great waves break over your ship, you will want to see
us; and when you look at the pretty name which you gave me," (pointing
out the word Natalie, which was wrought upon the foot of the cross),
"you may know that I am thinking of you. Our hearts shall be with you."
With a father's blessing upon his children, he suffered them to be taken
away; and as the loud huzza went up from the deck of the steamer, he saw
his little one gazing back upon him, from amidst the waving banners,
with a look which sank into his heart; her gentle words were still
sounding in his ear, and it would seem as if that voice of childhood
was of riper years. Her words were never forgotten. Over the spirit of
the child there came that which she had never known before; ah! gentle
one, it is but the first drop of bitterness which must be mingled with
the sweets in every life. May the All-Father keep thy feet from hidden
thorns, strewing thy pathway only with the sweet flowers of innocence!
He had gone; and the heart of the Sea-flower echoed,--"he has gone;" the
very breeze which wafted him from home sighed "gone." Is there a heart
which never knew the tone?