"Calm me, my God, and keep me calm
While these hot breezes blow;
Be like the night-dew's cooling balm
Upon earth's fevered brow."
--H. BONAR.
"Fear not; I will help thee."
--ISAIAH xiii. 13.
"Dear old auntie! to think how hard at work for her country she is, while
I sit idle here," sighed Elsie, closing the letter after reading it aloud
to the assembled family. "Mamma, papa, Edward, is there nothing we can
do?"
"We can do just what they are doing," replied Rose with energy, "I wonder
I had not thought of it before; shirts, stockings, lint, bandages, we can
prepare them all; and send with them such fruits and delicacies as will
carry from this far-off place. What say you, gentlemen?"
"I think you can," was the simultaneous reply; Mr. Travilla adding, "and
we can help with the lint, and by running the sewing-machines. I'd be glad
to add to the comfort of the poor fellows on both sides."
"And money is needed by their aid societies," added Mr. Dinsmore.
"And I can send that!" Elsie exclaimed joyously
"Yes, we all can," said her father.
Several busy weeks followed, and a large box was packed and sent off.
"If that arrives safely we will send another," they said; for news had
reached them that such supplies were sorely needed.
"What! at it again, little wife?" queried Mr. Travilla, entering Elsie's
boudoir the next morning, to find her delicate fingers busy with
knitting-needles and coarse blue yarn.
"Yes, sir," she said, smiling up at him, "it seems a slight relief to my
anxiety about my country, to be doing something, if it is only _this_."
"Ah! then I'll take lessons, if you, or Aunt Chloe there will teach me,"
he returned, laughingly drawing up a chair and taking a seat by her side.
"Mammy, can you supply another set of needles, and more yarn?"
"Yes, massa;" and laying down the stocking she was at work upon, away she
went in search of them.
"Papa, see! so pitty!" cried a little voice; and "wee Elsie" was at his
knee, with a diamond necklace in her hand.
"Yes," he said, gently taking it from her, "but rather too valuable a
plaything for my little pet. How did she get hold of it, dearest?" he
asked, turning to his wife.
"Mamma say Elsie may. Please, papa, let Elsie have it," pleaded the little
one with quivering lip and fast-filling eyes.
"I gave her leave to look over the contents of my jewel box; she is a very
careful little body, and mammy and I are both on the watch:" answered
mamma. "It is a great treat to her; and she takes up only one article at
a time, examines it till satisfied, then lays it back exactly as she found
it. So please, papa, may she go on?"
"Yes, if mamma gave permission it is all right, darling," he said,
caressing the child and returning the necklace.
"Tank oo, papa, mamma; Elsie be very tareful mamma's pitty sings," she
cried with a gleeful laugh, holding up her rosebud mouth for a kiss, first
to one, then the other.
"Let papa see where you put it, precious," he said, following her as she
tripped across the room and seated herself on a cushion in front of the
box.
"Dere, papa, dus where Elsie dot it," she said, laying it carefully back
in its proper place. "See, so many, many pitty sings in mamma's box."
"Yes," he said, passing his eye thoughtfully from one to another of the
brilliant collection of rings, brooches, chains, bracelets, and necklaces
sparkling with gems--diamonds, rubies, amethysts, pearls, emeralds, and
other precious stones. "Little wife, your jewels alone are worth what to
very many would be a handsome fortune."
"Yes, Edward, and is it not really a pity to have so much locked up in
them?"
"No, it is a good investment; especially as things are at present."
"I could do very well without them; should never have bought them for
myself: they are almost all your gifts and papa's, or his purchases."
Aunt Chloe had returned with the needles and yarn, and now Elsie began
giving the lesson in knitting, both she and her pupil making very merry
over it. Rose and Mr. Dinsmore presently joined them, and the latter, not
to be outdone by his son-in-law, invited his wife to teach him.
Horace was at his lessons, but Rosebud, or Rosie as she had gradually come
to be called, soon followed her parents. She was a bright, merry little
girl of six, very different from what her sister had been at that age;
full of fun and frolicsome as a kitten, very fond of her father, liking to
climb upon his knee to be petted and caressed, but clinging still more to
her sweet, gentle mamma.
Mr. Travilla and she were the best of friends; she was devotedly attached
to her sister, and considered it "very nice and funny," that she was aunt
to wee Elsie and baby Eddie.
"Oh," she cried, the moment she came into the room, "what is wee Elsie
doing? Mamma, may I, too?"
"May you what?" asked Rose.
"Why, what is the child doing? playing with your jewels, Elsie?" asked Mr.
Dinsmore in a tone of surprise, noticing for the first time what was the
employment of his little granddaughter.
"Yes, papa; but she is very careful, and I am watching her."
"I should not allow it, if she were my child. No, Rosie, you may not; you
are not a careful little girl."
Rosie was beginning to pout, but catching the stern look in her father's
eye, quickly gave it up, her face clearing as if by magic.
"Papa," Elsie asked in a low tone, "do you wish me to take away those
costly playthings from my little girl?"
"My dear daughter," he said, smiling tenderly upon her, "I have neither
the right nor the wish to interfere with you and your children; especially
when your husband approves of your management. I only fear you may suffer
loss. How easy a valuable ring may slip through the little fingers and
roll away into some crevice where it would never be found."
"I'm afraid it is rather hazardous," she acknowledged. "Mammy, sit close
to Elsie and keep a careful watch, lest she should drop something."
"I begin to think there's truth in the old saw, 'It's hard to teach old
dogs new tricks,'" remarked Mr. Travilla, with a comically rueful face.
"I've a mind to give it up. What do you say, Dinsmore?"
"That you wouldn't make a good soldier, if you are so easily conquered,
Travilla."
"Oh, fighting's another thing, but I'll persevere as long as you do;
unless I find I'm wearying my teacher."
"Perhaps you would learn faster with a better teacher," said Elsie, "I'm
sure the fault is not in the scholar; because I know he's bright and
talented."
"Ah! then I shall try harder than ever, to save your reputation; but take
a recess now, for here comes my boy, reaching out his arms to papa. Bring
him here Dinah. Papa's own boy, he looks beautiful and as bright as the
day."
"Mamma thinks he's a very handsome mixture of papa and grandpa," Elsie
said, leaning over to caress the babe, now crowing in his father's arms.
"I'm afraid he inherits too much of his grandpa's temper," remarked Mr.
Dinsmore, but with a glance of loving pride bestowed upon the beautiful
babe.
"I, for one, have no objection, provided he learns to control it as well,"
said Mr. Travilla; "he will make the finer character."
Little Elsie had grown weary of her play.
"Put box way now, mammy," she said, getting up from her cushion; "wee
Elsie don't want any more. Mamma take; Elsie so tired."
The baby voice sounded weak and languid, and tottering to her mother's
side, she almost fell into her lap.
"Oh, my baby! my precious darling, what is it?" cried Elsie, catching her
up in her arms. "Papa! Edward! she is dying!"
For the face had suddenly lost all its color; the eyes were rolled upward,
the tiny fists tightly clenched, and the little limbs had grown stiff and
rigid on the mother's lap.
Mr. Travilla hastily set down the babe, laid turned to look at his little
girl, his face full of alarm and distress.
Mr. Dinsmore sprang to his daughter's side, and meeting her look of agony,
said soothingly, "No, dearest, it is a spasm, she will soon be over it."
"Yes; don't be so terrified, dear child," said Rose, dropping her work and
hurrying to Elsie's assistance; "they are not unusual with children; I
have seen both May and Daisy have them. Quick, Aunt Chloe! a cloth dipped
in spirits of turpentine, to lay over the stomach and bowels, and another
to put between her shoulders. It is the best thing we can do till we get a
doctor here. But, ah, see! it is already passing away."
That was true; the muscles were beginning to relax, and in another moment
the eyes resumed their natural appearance, the hands were no longer
clenched, and a low plaintive, "Mamma," came from the little lips.
"Mamma is here, darling," Elsie said, amid her fast-dropping tears,
covering the little wan face with kisses, as she held it to her bosom.
"Thank God! she is still ours!" exclaimed the father, almost under his
breath; then, a little louder, "Elsie, dear wife, I shall go at once for
Dr. Channing, an English physician who has been highly recommended to me."
"Do, dear husband, and urge him to come at once," she answered, in a tone
full of anxiety.
He left the room, returning with the physician within half an hour, to
find the little girl asleep on her mother's breast.
"Ah, I hope she is not going to be very ill," said the doctor, taking
gentle hold of her tiny wrist. "She seems easy now, and her papa tells me
the spasm was of very short duration."
She woke, apparently free from suffering, allowed her papa to take her,
that mamma's weary arms might rest, and in the course of the afternoon
even got down from his knee, and played about the room for a little while,
but languidly, and was soon quite willing to be nursed again, "papa,
grandpa, and Mamma Rose," as she lovingly called her young and fair
step-grandmother, taking turns in trying to relieve and amuse her.
She was a most affectionate, unselfish little creature, and though longing
to lay again her weary little head on mamma's breast, and feel the
enfolding of mamma's dear arms, gave up without a murmur, when told that
"poor mamma was tired with holding so big a girl for so long," and
quietly contented herself with the attention of the others.
As the early evening hour which was the children's bed-time drew near,
Elsie took her little girl again on her lap.
"Mamma, pease talk to Elsie," pleaded the sweet baby voice, while the
curly head fell languidly upon her shoulder, and a tiny hand, hot and dry
with fever, softly patted her cheek.
"What about, darling?"
"'Bout Jesus, mamma. Do He love little chillens? do he love wee Elsie?"
The gentle voice that answered was full of tears. "Yes, darling, mamma and
papa, and dear grandpa too, love you more than tongue can tell, but Jesus
loves you better still."
"Mamma, may Elsie go dere?"
"Where, my precious one?"
"To Jesus, mamma; Elsie want to go see Jesus."
A sharp pang shot through the young mothers heart, and her arms tightened
their clasp about the little form, while the hot tears chased each other
adown her cheeks. One fell on the child's face.
"What! mamma ky? Mamma don't want Elsie to go see Jesus? Den Elsie will
stay wis mamma and papa. Don't ky, Elsie's mamma;" and feebly the little
hand tried to wipe away her mother's tears.
With a silent prayer for help to control her emotion, Elsie cleared her
voice, and began in low, sweet tones the old, old story of Jesus and His
love, His birth, His life, His death.
"Mamma, Elsie do love Jesus!" were the earnest words that followed the
close of the narrative. "Say prayer now, and go bed. Elsie feel sick.
Mamma, stay wis Elsie?"
"Yes, my precious one, mamma will stay close beside her darling as long as
she wants her. You may say your little prayer kneeling in mamma's lap; and
then she will sing you to sleep."
"Jesus like Elsie do dat way?"
"Yes, darling, when she's sick."
Mamma's arms encircled and upheld the little form, the chubby hands were
meekly folded, and the soft cheek rested against hers, while the few words
of prayer faltered on the baby tongue.
Then, the posture changed to a more restful one, the sweet voice still
full of tears, and often trembling with emotion, sang the little one to
sleep.
Laying her gently in her crib, Elsie knelt beside it, sending up a
petition with strong crying and tears; not that the young life might be
spared, unless the will of God were so, but that she might be enabled to
say, with all her heart, "Thy will be done."
Ere she had finished, her husband knelt beside her asking the same for her
and himself.
They rose up together, and folded to his heart, she wept out her sorrow
upon his breast.
"You are very weary, little wife," he said tenderly, passing his hand
caressingly over her hair and pressing his lips again and again to the
heated brow.
"It is rest to lay my head here," she whispered.
"But you must not stand;" and sitting down he drew her to the sofa, still
keeping his arm about her waist. "Bear up, dear wife," he said, "we will
hope our precious darling is not very ill."
She told him of the child's words, and the sad foreboding that had entered
her own heart.
"While there is life there is hope, dearest," he said, with assumed
cheerfulness. "Let us not borrow trouble. Does He not say to us, as to the
disciples of old, 'It is I, be not afraid'?"
"Yes; and she is His; only lent to us for a season; and we dare not rebel
should He see fit to recall His own," she answered, amid her tears. "Oh,
Edward, I am so glad we indulged her this morning in her wish to play with
my jewels!"
"Yes; she is the most precious of them all," he said with emotion.
Aunt Chloe, drawing near, respectfully suggested that it might be well to
separate the children, in case the little girl's illness should prove to
be contagious.
"That is a wise thought, mammy," said Elsie. "Is it not, Edward?"
"Yes, wife; shall we take our little daughter to our own bedroom, and
leave Eddie in possession of the nursery?"
"Yes, I will never leave her while she is ill."
Weeks of anxious solicitude, of tenderest, most careful nursing, followed;
for the little one was very ill, and for some time grew worse hour by
hour. For days there was little hope that her life would be spared, and a
solemn silence reigned through the house; even the romping, fun-loving
Horace and Rosie, awe-struck into stillness, and often shedding
tears--Horace in private, fearing to be considered unmanly, but Rosie
openly and without any desire of concealment--at the thought that the
darling of the house was about to pass away from earth.
Rose was filled with grief, the father, and grandfather were almost
heart-broken. But the mother! That first night she had scarcely closed an
eye, but continually her heart was going up in earnest supplications for
grace and strength to meet this sore trial with patience, calmness, and
submission.
And surely the prayer was heard and answered; day and night she was with
her suffering little one, watching beside its crib, or holding it in her
arms, soothing it with tender words of mother love, or singing, in low
sweet tones, of Jesus and the happy land.
Plenty of excellent nurses were at hand, more than willing to relieve her
of her charge; but she would relinquish it to no one; except when
compelled to take a little rest that her strength might not utterly fail
her. Even then she refused to leave the room, but lay where the first
plaintive cry, "Mamma," would rouse her and bring her instantly to her
darling's side.
At times the big tears might be seen coursing down her cheek, as she gazed
mournfully upon the baby face so changed from what it was; but voice and
manner were quiet and composed.
Her husband was almost constantly at her side, sharing the care, the grief
and anxiety, and the nursing, so far as she would let him. Rose, too, and
Mr. Dinsmore, were there every hour of the day, and often in the night,
scarcely less anxious and grief-stricken than the parents, and Mr.
Dinsmore especially, trembling for the life and health of the mother as
well as the child.
At length came a day when all knew and felt that wee Elsie was at the very
brink of the grave, and the little thread of life might snap asunder at
any moment.
She lay on her pillow on her mother's lap, the limbs shrunken to half
their former size, the face, but lately so beautiful with the bloom of
health, grown wan and thin, with parched lips and half-closed, dreamy
eyes.
Mr. Travilla sat close beside them, with cup and spoon in hand, now and
then moistening the dry lips. Chloe, who had stationed herself a little
behind her mistress to be within call, was dropping great tears on the
soldier's stocking in her hand.
Mr. Dinsmore came softly in and stood by the little group, his features
working with emotion. "My darling," he murmured, "my precious daughter,
may God comfort and sustain you."
"He does, papa," she answered in low, calm tones, as she raised her head
and lifted her mournful eyes to his face; "His consolations are not small
in the trying hour."
"You can give her up?" he asked, in a choking voice, looking with anguish
upon the wasted features of his almost idolized grandchild.
"Yes, papa--if He sees fit to take her; 'twere but selfishness to want to
keep her here. So safe, so happy will she be in Jesus' arms."
Mr. Travilla's frame shook with emotion, and Mr. Dinsmore was not less
agitated; but the mother was still calm and resigned.
No sound had come from those little lips for hours; but now there was a
faintly murmured "Mamma!"
"Yes, darling, mamma is here," Elsie answered, softly pressing a kiss on
the white brow; "what shall mamma do for her baby?"
"Jesus loves wee Elsie?" and the dreamy eyes unclosed and looked up into
the sweet pale face bent so lovingly over her. "Elsie so glad. Mamma sing
'Happy land.'"
The young mother's heart was like to burst, but with a silent prayer for
strength, she controlled herself and sang low and sweetly, and even as she
sang a change came over the child, and it fell into a deep, calm, natural
sleep that lasted for hours. All the time on the mother's lap, her eyes
scarce moving from the dear little face; her breath almost suspended, lest
that life-giving slumber should be broken.
In vain husband and father in turn entreated to be allowed to relieve her.
"No, oh no!" she whispered. "I cannot have her disturbed; it might cost
her life."
This was the turning point in the disease, and from that time the little
one began to amend. But very weak and frail, she was still in need of
weeks of continued tender, careful nursing.
"Mamma's lap" was the place preferred above all others; but patient and
unselfish, she yielded without a murmur when invited to the arms of papa,
grandpa, Rose, or nurse, and told that "dear mamma was tired and needed
rest."
Elsie was indeed much reduced in health and strength; but love, joy, and
thankfulness helped her to recuperate rapidly.