THE VISITORS.
ONE day Mrs. Corwin had a letter from a lady who had just come home
from a long sea-voyage with her husband. Her name was McIntire. She
used to go to the same school with Mrs. Corwin, and for one term they
roomed together. Now She was married to a sea-captain, and with her
little boy, Lewis, had been with him to China.
Mrs. McIntire wrote that her husband's ship was to be repaired in the
city near Corwin's Nest; and if quite agreeable to her old roommate,
she would like to spend a week or two in reviving their former
acquaintance.
Mrs. Corwin was quite delighted to receive news from her old friend.
She read part of the letter to nurse, who agreed nothing could be more
prettily expressed.
"I have heard," she wrote, "of Corwin's Nest, and have a great desire
to go and see the birdlings in it."
By the very next mail, the lady sent an answer, saying, "We shall all
be delighted to see you with your husband and son."
Bessie was very full of questions about the visitors.
"How old is Lewis, mamma? Is he a good boy? Can he play school? Do you
think he has ever seen such a pretty baby as ours?"
To all of which the lady could only answer with a smile:
"He will be here next week. You must wait and see."
At last, the day came when the guests were expected. Mr. Corwin had
driven to town in the large carryall, so as to bring them back with him.
Bessie, dressed in white, with a wide blue sash, stood flattening her
nose against the nursery window, waiting for them to come in sight;
while mamma, with little Jamie on her knee, was trying to twist his
short curls around her fingers.
In her haste to have her baby boy ready to be introduced to the
visitors, she did not notice that he had a spool of wine-colored silk,
which he was trying to crowd into his mouth.
"They've come, mamma! They've come!" shouted Bessie, dancing up and
down in the chair.
"Yes, ma'am," echoed nurse, "they've come."
"Oh, see what Jamie has done!" exclaimed the lady in haste. "Wipe off
that stain from the silk, nurse, and bring him down."
Then she took Bessie's hand and ran down to the door to receive her old
friend.
The words Alice and Adeline were all that could be heard at first, and
then Mrs. Corwin was introduced by her husband to Captain McIntire, a
stout man, weighing over two hundred.
Lewis, a boy of seven years, would not get out of the carriage, but
insisted on going to the stable with the hostler.
"Take care, John," said his master, sharply; "don't let that boy touch
the whip. He has made the mare almost frantic now."
But it was too late. Lewis, left alone in the carriage, had already
caught the whip, and was giving a cut across the animal's ears. John
had only one foot on the step, and the mare, giving a violent spring,
threw him backward to the ground, the reins twisted around his ankle.
Mr. Corwin screamed, "Whoa! whoa!" But the creature had been constantly
irritated by the boy; and she plunged on toward the stable, dragging
poor John by the reins.
Just at this moment, and when they all feared both he and the naughty
boy would be killed, one of the men from the farm rushed from the
field, cleared the fence at one bound, and, at the risk of his own
life, caught the frightened mare by the bit.
Lewis looked a little pale when Mr. Corwin lifted him to the ground;
but this did not prevent his saying:
"I never saw such an ugly horse. I only just snapped the whip; and he
was off like sixty."
It was wonderful that John had not been injured. One of his hands was
badly scraped on the gravel, and his neck felt stiff; but he insisted
that no harm was done.
"Lock the barn, and keep it locked all the time Lewis is here," said
his master, sternly. "I wont run the risk of his killing himself, if he
doesn't kill the horses."
Lewis walked on muttering to himself in a sulky voice, "I wont stay
here. I'll go right off."
Mrs. McIntire had not been in the house an hour before her old friend
found she had not improved in the years that had passed. She was in
terrible distress when she saw the danger her son was in, and, without
paying attention to any one, shrieked out:
"Oh, why did I come here! Lewis will be killed; I know he will! I was
sure all day something was going to happen."
Captain McIntire started to go after the carriage; but being too stout
to run, he only reached it just as Mr. Corwin had taken Lewis out.
His mother hugged him, and cried over him, exclaiming, "You're half
killed; I know you are. O Lewis! I'm so sorry we ever left the ship."
"I don't think he is hurt," suggested Mrs. Corwin. "Come, Bessie, ask
the little boy how he is."
Bessie held out her tiny hand, glancing up from under her long lashes;
but Lewis paid no attention to her, except by a long stare.
He pulled his mother's dress roughly, while he said, "I don't like this
place; I don't like cross people."
"Was Mr. Corwin cross to you?" she asked, winking at the lady. "Well I
wouldn't mind it; go and ask cook to give you a cake. I'm afraid you'll
think he's a spoiled child," she added, when Lewis had gone. "I've lost
three; and I can't bear to deny him anything."
"Will you go up to your room?" asked Mrs. Corwin, trying to smile,
though her heart felt very sad.
"No; I'll take off my bonnet here. Your servant can carry it away. I
suppose you'll be having supper soon."
"I'll order it directly if you are hungry," said Bessie's mamma.
As she went toward the kitchen, she heard a loud, angry scream, and
hurrying on, was horrified at the scene before her.
Cook had been baking waffles for tea, and had a large pile buttered and
sugared ready to be carried to the table. She went to the pantry to get
a cake for Lewis, when he snatched the cover from the dish, and turned
the whole pile of muffins upon the floor.
Cook confessed to being angry. She took the rude boy by the shoulders,
when he turned and struck her in the face.
"Oh, what a wicked boy!" exclaimed Bessie. "God wont love him a bit if
he acts so."
Even Mrs. McIntire felt mortified at her son's behavior when she saw
the nicely browned waffles spilled over the floor, the melted butter
and sugar slowly spreading into a grease-spot, while both cook and
Nancy stood crimson with anger.
"Did you do that, Lewis?" she said, advancing into the kitchen.
"No, I didn't; I didn't touch her old cakes."
"Cut some bread and bring on the table directly," said Mrs. Corwin,
gravely. "I am sorry, cook, that you have lost all your labor."
Never in the four years that cook had lived with her, had her mistress
seen her so angry. Her face was crimson; and on one ear the marks of
the child's blow were plainly to be seen.
"Come, Bessie," said mamma, "we will go up, and see baby a minute."
Once in the nursery she sat down, longing to give vent to her
disappointment in a good cry; but this would not do.
"Nurse," she said, "the children must have their supper up here. I
cannot allow Bessie to see such naughty conduct. Keep the nursery door
locked; and I will tell Nancy to bring up the tray."