THE VISIT TO MARY ERSKINE'S.
Malleville and Phonny arrived at Mary Erskine's about an hour after
Beechnut left them. They met with no special adventures by the way,
except that when they reached the great pine-tree, Phonny proposed to
climb up, for the purpose of examining a small bunch which he saw upon
one of the branches, which he thought was a bird's nest. It was the
same pine-tree that marked the place at which a road branched off into
the woods, where Mary Bell had lost her way, several years before.
Malleville was very unwilling to have Phonny climb up upon such a high
tree, but Phonny himself was very desirous to make the attempt. There
was a log fence at the foot of the tree, and the distance was not very
great from the uppermost log of the fence, to the lowermost branch
of the tree. So Phonny thought that he could get up without any
difficulty.
Malleville was afraid to have him try, and she said that if he did, he
would be acting just as foolish as the boy that Beechnut had told them
about, who nipped his own nose; and that she should not stop to see
him do any such foolishness. So she walked along as fast as she could
go.
Phonny unfortunately was rendered only the more determined to climb
the tree by Malleville's opposition. He accordingly mounted up to the
top of the fence, and thence reaching the lower branches of the tree
he succeeded at length, by dint of much scrambling and struggling, in
lifting himself up among them. He climbed out to the limb where he had
seen the appearances of a bird's nest, but found to his disappointment
that there was no bird's nest there. The bunch was only a little tuft
of twigs growing out together.
Phonny then began to shout out for Malleville to wait for him.
"Mal--le--ville! Mal--le--ville!" said he. "Wait a minute for me. I am
coming down."
He did not like to be left there all alone, in the gloomy and solitary
forest. So he made all the haste possible in descending. There are a
great many accidents which may befall a boy in coming down a tree. The
one which Phonny was fated to incur in this instance, was to catch his
trowsers near the knee, in a small sharp twig which projected from a
branch, and tear them.
When he reached the ground he looked at the rent in dismay. He was
generally nice and particular about his clothes, and he was very
unwilling to go to Mary Erskine's, and let her and Bella see him in
such a plight. He was equally unwilling to go home again, and to lose
his visit.
"Provoking!" said he. "That comes from Malleville's hurrying me so.
It is all her fault." Then starting off suddenly, he began to run,
shouting out, "Malleville! Malleville!"
At length, when he got pretty near her, he called out for her to stop
and see what she had made him do.
"Did I make you do that?" said Malleville, looking at the rent, while
Phonny stood with his foot extended, and pointing at it with his
finger.
"Yes," said Phonny,--"because you hurried me."
"Well, I'm sorry;" said Malleville, looking very much concerned.
Phonny was put quite to a nonplus by this unexpected answer. He had
expected to hear Malleville deny that it was her fault that he had
torn his clothes, and was prepared to insist strenuously that it was;
but this unlooked-for gentleness seemed to leave him not a word to
say. So he walked along by the side of Malleville in silence.
"Was it a pretty bird's-nest?" said Malleville in a conciliatory tone,
after a moment's pause.
"No," said Phonny. "It was not any bird's nest at all."
When the children reached the farm as they called it, Mary Erskine
seated Phonny on the bed, and then drawing up her chair near to him,
she took his foot in her lap and mended the rent so neatly that there
was afterwards no sign of it to be seen.
Little Albert was at this time about three years old, and Bella was
seven. Phonny, while Mary Erskine was mending his clothes, asked where
the children were. Mary Erskine said that they had gone out into
the fields with Thomas, to make hay. So Phonny and Malleville, after
getting proper directions in respect to the way that they were to go,
set off in pursuit of them.
They went out at a back-door which led to a beautiful walk under
a long trellis, which was covered with honey-suckles and roses.
Malleville stopped to get a rose, and Phonny to admire two
humming-birds that were playing about the honey-suckles. He wished
very much that he could catch one of them, but he could not even get
near them. From the end of the trellis's walk the children entered a
garden, and at the back side of the garden they went through a narrow
place between two posts into a field. They walked along the side of
this field, by a very pleasant path with high green grass and flowers
on one side, and a wall with a great many raspberry bushes growing
by it, and now and then little thickets of trees, on the other. The
bushes and trees made the walk that they were going in very cool and
shady. There were plenty of raspberries upon the bushes, but they were
not yet ripe. Phonny said that when the raspberries were ripe he meant
to come out to Mary Erskine's again and get some.
Presently the children turned a sort of a corner which was formed by a
group of trees, and then they came in sight of the hay-making party.
"Oh, they have got the horse and cart," said Phonny. So saying he set
off as fast he could run, toward the hay-makers, Malleville following
him.
The horse and cart were standing in the middle of the field among the
numerous winrows of hay. The two children of Mrs. Forester, Bella
and Albert, were in the cart, treading down the hay as fast as Thomas
pitched it up. As soon as Phonny and Malleville reached the place,
Malleville stood still with her hands behind her, looking at the scene
with great interest and pleasure. Phonny wanted to know if Thomas had
not got another pitch-fork, so that he might help him pitch up the
hay.
Thomas said, no. He, however, told Phonny that he might get into the
cart if he pleased, and drive the horse along when it was time to
go to a new place. Phonny was extremely pleased with this plan. He
climbed into the cart, Bella helping him up by a prodigious lift which
she gave him, seizing him by the shoulder as he came up. Malleville
was afraid to get into the cart at all, but preferred walking along
the field and playing among the winrows.
Phonny drove along from place to place as Thomas directed him, until
at length the cart was so full that it was no longer safe for the
children to remain upon the top. They then slid down the hay to the
ground, Thomas receiving them so as to prevent any violent fall.
Thomas then forked up as much more hay as he could make stay upon the
top of his load, and when this was done, he set out to go to the barn.
The children accompanied him, walking behind the cart.
When the party reached the barn, the children went inside to a place
which Phonny called the bay. Thomas drove his cart up near the side of
the barn without, and began to pitch the hay in through a great square
window, quite high up. The window opened into the bay, so that the
hay, when Thomas pitched it in, fell down into the place where the
children were standing. They jumped upon it, when it came down, with
great glee. As every new forkful which Thomas pitched in came without
any warning except the momentary darkening of the window, it sometimes
fell upon the children's heads and half buried them, each new accident
of this kind awakening, as it occurred, loud and long continued bursts
of laughter.
After getting in two or three loads of hay in this manner, dinner
time came, and the whole party went in to dinner. They found when
they entered the house that Mary Erskine had been frying nut-cakes and
apple-turnovers for them. There was a large earthen pan full of such
things, and there were more over the fire. There were also around the
table four bowls full of very rich looking milk, with a spoon in each
bowl, and a large supply of bread, cut into very small pieces, upon
a plate near the bowls. The children were all hungry and thirsty, and
they gathered around the table to eat the excellent dinner which Mary
Erskine had provided for them, with an air of great eagerness and
delight.
After their dinner was over, Mary Erskine said that they might go out
and play for half an hour, and that then she would go with them
into the fields, and see if they could not find some strawberries.
Accordingly, when the time arrived, they all assembled at the door,
and Mary Erskine came out, bringing mugs and baskets to put the
strawberries in. There were four mugs made, of tin; such as were there
called _dippers_. There were two pretty large baskets besides,
both covered. Mary Erskine gave to each of the children a dipper, and
carried the baskets herself. She seemed to carry them very carefully,
and they appeared to be heavy, as if there might be something inside.
Phonny wanted very much to know what there was in those baskets. Mary
Erskine said he must guess.
"Some cake," said Phonny.
"Guess again," said Mary Erskine.
"Apples," said Phonny.
"Guess again," said Mary Erskine.
"Why, have not I guessed right yet?" asked Phonny.
"I can't tell you," replied Mary Erskine. "Only you may guess as much
as you please."
Phonny of course gave up guessing, since he was not to be told whether
he guessed right or not; though he said he was sure that it was cake,
or else, perhaps, some of the turn-overs. The party walked along by
very pleasant paths until they came to a field by the side of the
brook. There were trees along the banks of the brook, under which,
and near the water, there were a great many cool and shady places
that were very pleasant. Mary Erskine led the way down to one of these
where there was a large flat stone near the water. She hid her two
baskets in the bushes, and then directed the children to go up into
the field with her and get the strawberries. The strawberries were not
only very abundant, but also very large and ripe. Mary Erskine said
that they might all eat ten, but no more. All that they got, except
ten, they must put into their dippers, until the dippers were full.
She herself went busily at work, finding strawberries and putting them
into the dippers of the children, sometimes into one and sometimes
into another. In a short time the dippers were full.
The whole party then went back to the brook and sat down upon the
great flat stone, with their dippers before them. Mary Erskine then
brought out one of her baskets, and lifting up the cover, she took out
five saucers and five spoons.
"There," said she, "I brought you some saucers and spoons to eat your
strawberries with. Now take up the bunches from your dippers, and pull
off the strawberries from the stems, and put them in the saucers."
While the children were all busily engaged in doing this, Mary Erskine
opened the other basket, and took out a pitcher of very rich looking
cream. The sight of this treasure of course awakened in all the
party the utmost enthusiasm and delight. They went on hulling their
strawberries very industriously, and were soon ready, one after
another, to have the cream poured over them, which Mary Erskine
proceeded to do, giving to each one of the children a very abundant
supply.
[Illustration: THE STRAWBERRY PARTY.]
Phonny finished his strawberries first, and then went to the margin of
the brook to look into the water, in order, as he said, "to see if he
could see any fishes." He did see several, and became greatly excited
in consequence, calling eagerly upon the rest of the party to
come down and look. He said that he wished very much that he had a
fishing-line. Mary Erskine said that Thomas had a fishing-line,
which he would lend him, she had no doubt; and away Phonny went,
accordingly, to find Thomas and to get the line.
This procedure was not quite right on Phonny's part. It is not right
to abandon one's party under such circumstances as these, for the sake
of some new pleasure accidentally coming into view, which the whole
party cannot share. Besides, Phonny left his dipper for Mary Erskine
or Malleville to carry up, instead of taking care of it himself. Mary
Erskine, however, said that this was of no consequence, as she could
carry it just as well as not.
Mary Erskine and the three remaining children, then went back to the
house, where Bella and Malleville amused themselves for half an hour
in building houses with the blocks in Thomas's shop, when all at once
Malleville was surprised to see Beechnut coming in. Beechnut, was
returning from the mill, and as the children had had to walk nearly
all the way to Mary Erskine's, he thought it very probable that they
would be too tired to walk back again. So he had left his horse
and wagon at the corner, and had walked out to the farm to take the
children home with him, if they were ready to go.
"I am not _ready_ to go," said Malleville, after having heard
this story, but I _will_ go for the sake of the ride. I am
too tired to walk all the way. But Phonny is not here. He has gone
a-fishing."
"Where has he gone?" said Beechnut.
"Down to the brook," replied Malleville.
"I will go and find him," said Beechnut.
So saying, Beechnut left the shop, went out into the yard, and began
to walk down the path which led toward the brook. Very soon he
saw Phonny coming out from among the bushes with his pole over his
shoulder, and walking along with quite a disconsolate air. Beechnut
sat down upon a log by the side of the road, to wait for him.
"Did you catch any fishes?" said Beechnut, as Phonny approached him.
"No," said Phonny, despondingly.
"I am glad of that," said Beechnut.
"Glad!" said Phonny, looking up surprised, and somewhat displeased.
"What are you glad for?"
"For the sake of the fishes," said Beechnut.
"Hoh!" said Phonny. "And the other day, when I did catch some, you
said you were glad of that."
"Yes," said Beechnut, "then I was glad for your sake. There is always
a chance to be glad for some sake or other, happen what may."
This, though very good philosophy, did not appear to be just at that
time at all satisfactory to Phonny.
"I have had nothing but ill-luck all this afternoon," said Phonny, in
a pettish tone. "That great ugly black horse of Thomas's trod on my
foot."
"Did he?" said Beechnut; his countenance brightening up at the same
time, as if Phonny had told him some good news.
"Yes," said Phonny, "Thomas came along near where I was fishing, and I
laid down my fishing-line, and went up to the horse, and was standing
by his head, and he trod on my foot dreadfully."
"Did he?" said Beechnut, "I am very glad of that."
"Glad of that!" repeated Phonny. "I don't see whose sake you can be
glad of that for. I am sure it did not do the horse any good."
"I am glad of that for your sake," said Beechnut. "There never was a
boy that grew up to be a man, that did not have his foot trod upon at
some time or other by a horse. There is no other possible way for
them to learn that when a horse takes up his foot, he will put it down
again wherever it happens, and if a boy's foot is under it, it will
get trod upon. There is no possible way for boys to learn that but
by experiencing it. The only difference is, that some boys take the
treading light, and others get it heavy. You have got it light. So if
you have only learned the lesson, you have learned it very easily, and
so I am glad."
"No, it was not light," said Phonny. "It was very heavy. What makes
you think it was light?"
"By your walking," replied Beechnut. "I have known some boys that when
they took their lesson in keeping out of the way of horses' forefeet,
could not stand for a week after it. You have had most excellent luck,
you may depend."
By the time that Beechnut and Phonny reached the house, Malleville
had put on her bonnet and was ready to go. Mary Erskine said that she
would go with them a little way. Bella and Albert then wanted to go
too. Their mother said that she had no objection, and so they all went
along together.
"Did you know that we were going to have a new road?" said Mary
Erskine to Beechnut.
"Are you?" asked Phonny eagerly.
"Yes," said Mary Erskine. "They have laid out a new road to the
corner, and are going to make it very soon. It will be a very good
wagon road, and when it is made you can ride all the way. But then it
will not be done in time for my raspberry party."
"Your raspberry party?" repeated Phonny, "what is that?'
"Did not I tell you about it? I am going to invite you and all the
children in the village that I know, to come here some day when the
raspberries are ripe, and have a raspberry party,--like the strawberry
party that we had to-day. There are a great many raspberries on my
place."
"I'm _very_ glad," said Malleville. "When are you going to invite
us?"
"Oh, in a week or two," said Mary Erskine. "But then the new road will
not be done until the fall. They have just begun it. We can hear them
working upon it in one place, pretty soon."
The party soon came to the place which Mary Erskine had referred to.
It was a point where the new road came near the line of the old one,
and a party of men and oxen were at work, making a causeway, across a
low wet place. As the children passed along, they could hear the sound
of axes and the voices of men shouting to oxen. Phonny wished very
much to go and see. So Mary Erskine led the way through the woods a
short distance, till they came in sight of the men at work. They were
engaged in felling trees, pulling out rocks and old logs which were
sunken in the mire, by means of oxen and chains, and in other similar
works, making all the time loud and continual vociferations, which
resounded and echoed through the forest in a very impressive manner.
What interested Phonny most in these operations, was to see how
patiently the oxen bore being driven about in the deep mire, and the
prodigious strength which they exerted in pulling out the logs. One of
the workmen would take a strong iron chain, and while two others would
pry up the end of a log with crow-bars or levers, he would pass
the chain under the end so raised, and then hook it together above.
Another man would then back up a pair of oxen to the place, and
sometimes two pairs, in order that they might be hooked to the chain
which passed around the log. When all was ready, the oxen were started
forward, and though they went very slowly, step by step, yet they
exerted such prodigious strength as to tear the log out of its bed,
and drag it off, roots, branches, and all, entirely out of the way.
Monstrous rocks were lifted up and dragged out of the line of the road
in much the same manner.
After looking at this scene for some time, the party returned to the
old road again, and there Mary Erskine said that she would bid her
visitors good-bye, and telling them that she would not forget to
invite them to her raspberry party, she took leave of them and went
back toward her own home.
"If all the children of the village that Mary Erskine knows, are
invited to that party," said Phonny, "what a great raspberry party it
will be!"
"Yes," said Beechnut, "it will be a raspberry _jam_."
THE END.