Produced by Charles Franks and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team
DRIVEN BACK TO EDEN
BY
E. P. ROE
THIS VOLUME
IS LOVINGLY DEDICATED TO
"JOHNNIE"
PREFACE
Months since, with much doubt and diffidence, I began this simple
story. I had never before written expressly for young people, and I
knew that the honest little critics could not be beguiled with words
which did not tell an interesting story. How far I have succeeded, the
readers of this volume, and of the "St. Nicholas" magazine, wherein the
tale appeared as a serial, alone can answer.
I have portrayed no actual experience, but have sought to present one
which might be verified in real life. I have tried to avoid all that
would be impossible or even improbable. The labors performed by the
children in the story were not unknown to my own hands, in childhood,
nor would they form tasks too severe for many little hands now idle in
the cities.
The characters are all imaginary; the scenes, in the main, are real:
and I would gladly lure other families from tenement flats into green
pastures.
E. P. R.
CORNWALL-ON-THE-HUDSON,
August 10, 1885.
CONTENTS
CHAPTER I A PROBLEM
CHAPTER II I STATE THE CASE
CHAPTER III NEW PROSPECTS
CHAPTER IV A MOMENTOUS EXPEDITION
CHAPTER V A COUNTRY CHRISTMAS IN A CITY FLAT
CHAPTER VI A BLUFF FRIEND
CHAPTER VII MR. JONES SHOWS ME THE PLACE
CHAPTER VIII TELLING ABOUT EDEN
CHAPTER IX "BREAKING CAMP"
CHAPTER X SCENES ON THE WHARF
CHAPTER XI A VOYAGE UP THE HUDSON
CHAPTER XII A MARCH EVENING IN EDEN
CHAPTER XIII RESCUED AND AT HOME
CHAPTER XIV SELF-DENIAL AND ITS REWARD
CHAPTER XV OUR SUNNY KITCHEN
CHAPTER XVI MAKING A PLACE FOR CHICKENS
CHAPTER XVII GOOD BARGAINS IN MAPLE SUGAR
CHAPTER XVIII BUTTERNUTS AND BOBSEY'S PERIL
CHAPTER XIX JOHN JONES, JUN
CHAPTER XX RASPBERRY LESSONS
CHAPTER XXI THE "VANDOO"
CHAPTER XXII EARLY APRIL GARDENING
CHAPTER XXIII A BONFIRE AND A FEAST
CHAPTER XXIV "NO BLIND DRIFTING"
CHAPTER XXV OWLS AND ANTWERPS
CHAPTER XXVI A COUNTRY SUNDAY
CHAPTER XXVII STRAWBERRY VISIONS AND "PERTATERS"
CHAPTER XXVIII CORN, COLOR, AND MUSIC
CHAPTER XXIX WE GO A-FISHING
CHAPTER XXX WEEDS AND WORKING FOR DEAR LIFE
CHAPTER XXXI NATURE SMILES AND HELPS
CHAPTER XXXII CHERRIES, BERRIES, AND BERRY-THIEVES
CHAPTER XXXIII GIVEN HIS CHOICE
CHAPTER XXXIV GIVEN A CHANCE
CHAPTER XXXV "WE SHALL ALL EARN OUR SALT"
CHAPTER XXXVI A THUNDERBOLT
CHAPTER XXXVII RALLYING FROM THE BLOW
CHAPTER XXXVIII AUGUST WORK AND PLAY
CHAPTER XXXIX A TRIP TO THE SEASHORE
CHAPTER XL A VISIT TO HOUGHTON FARM
CHAPTER XLI HOARDING FOR WINTER
CHAPTER XLII AUTUMN WORK AND SPORT
CHAPTER XLIII THANKSGIVING DAY
CHAPTER XLIV WE CAN MAKE A LIVING IN EDEN
DRIVEN BACK TO EDEN
CHAPTER I
A PROBLEM
"Where are the children?"
"They can't be far away," replied my wife, looking up from her
preparations for supper. "Bobsey was here a moment ago. As soon as my
back's turned he's out and away. I haven't seen Merton since he brought
his books from school, and I suppose Winnie is upstairs with the
Daggetts."
"I wish, my dear, you could keep the children at home more," I said, a
little petulantly.
"I wish you would go and find them for me now, and to-morrow take my
place--for just one day."
"Well, well," I said, with a laugh that had no mirth in it; "only one
of your wishes stands much chance of being carried out. I'll find the
children now if I can without the aid of the police. Mousie, do you
feel stronger to-night?"
These words were spoken to a pale girl of fourteen, who appeared to be
scarcely more than twelve, so diminutive was her frame.
"Yes, papa," she replied, a faint smile flitting like a ray of light
across her features. She always said she was better, but never got
well. Her quiet ways and tones had led to the household name of
"Mousie."
As I was descending the narrow stairway I was almost overthrown by a
torrent of children pouring down from the flats above. In the dim light
of a gas-burner I saw that Bobsey was one of the reckless atoms. He had
not heard my voice in the uproar, and before I could reach him, he with
the others had burst out at the street door and gone tearing toward the
nearest corner. It seemed that he had slipped away in order to take
part in a race, and I found him "squaring off" at a bigger boy who had
tripped him up. Without a word I carried him home, followed by the
jeers and laughter of the racers, the girls making their presence known
in the early December twilight by the shrillness of their voices and by
manners no gentler than those of the boys.
I put down the child--he was only seven years of age--in the middle of
our general living-room, and looked at him. His little coat was split
out in the back; one of his stockings, already well-darned at the
knees, was past remedy; his hands were black, and one was bleeding; his
whole little body was throbbing with excitement, anger, and violent
exercise. As I looked at him quietly the defiant expression in his eyes
began to give place to tears.
"There is no use in punishing him now," said my wife. "Please leave him
to me and find the others."
"I wasn't going to punish him," I said.
"What are you going to do? What makes you look at him so?"
"He's a problem I can't solve--with the given conditions."
"O Robert, you drive me half wild. If the house was on fire you'd stop
to follow out some train of thought about it all. I'm tired to death.
Do bring the children home. When we've put them to bed you can figure
on your problem, and I can sit down."
As I went up to the Daggetts' flat I was dimly conscious of another
problem. My wife was growing fretful and nervous. Our rooms would not
have satisfied a Dutch housewife, but if "order is heaven's first law"
a little of Paradise was in them as compared to the Daggetts'
apartments. "Yes," I was told, in response to my inquiries; "Winnie is
in the bed-room with Melissy."
The door was locked, and after some hesitation the girls opened it. As
we were going downstairs I caught a glimpse of a newspaper in my girl's
pocket. She gave it to me reluctantly, and said "Melissy" had lent it
to her. I told her to help her mother prepare supper while I went to
find Merton. Opening the paper under a street lamp, I found it to be a
cheap, vile journal, full of flashy pictures that so often offend the
eye on news-stands. With a chill of fear I thought, "Another problem."
The Daggett children had had the scarlet fever a few months before.
"But here's a worse infection," I reflected. "Thank heaven, Winnie is
only a child, and can't understand these pictures;" and I tore the
paper up and thrust it into its proper place, the gutter.
"Now," I muttered, "I've only to find Merton in mischief to make the
evening's experience complete."
In mischief I did find him--a very harmful kind of mischief, it
appeared to me. Merton was little over fifteen, and he and two or three
other lads were smoking cigarettes which, to judge by their odor, must
certainly have been made from the sweepings of the manufacturer's floor.
"Can't you find anything better than that to do after school?" I asked,
severely.
"Well, sir," was the sullen reply, "I'd like to know what there is for
a boy to do in this street."
During the walk home I tried to think of an answer to his implied
question. What would I do if I were in Merton's place? I confess that I
was puzzled. After sitting in school all day he must do something that
the police would permit. There certainly seemed very little range of
action for a growing boy. Should I take him out of school and put him
into a shop or an office? If I did this his education would be sadly
limited. Moreover he was tall and slender for his age, and upon his
face there was a pallor which I dislike to see in a boy. Long hours of
business would be very hard upon him, even if he could endure the
strain at all. The problem which had been pressing on me for
months--almost years--grew urgent.
With clouded brows we sat down to our modest little supper. Winifred,
my wife, was hot and flushed from too near acquaintance with the stove,
and wearied by a long day of toil in a room that would be the better
for a gale of wind. Bobsey, as we called my little namesake, was
absorbed--now that he was relieved from the fear of punishment--by the
wish to "punch" the boy who had tripped him up. Winnie was watching me
furtively, and wondering what had become of the paper, and what I
thought of it. Merton was somewhat sullen, and a little ashamed of
himself. I felt that my problem was to give these children something to
do that would not harm them, for do SOMETHING they certainly would.
They were rapidly attaining that age when the shelter of a narrow city
flat would not answer, when the influence of a crowded house and of the
street might be greater than any we could bring to bear upon them.
I looked around upon the little group for whom I was responsible. My
will was still law to them. While my little wife had positive ways of
her own, she would agree to any decided course that I resolved upon.
The children were yet under entire control, so that I sat at the head
of the table, commander-in-chief of the little band. We called the
narrow flat we lived in "home." The idea! with the Daggetts above and
the Ricketts on the floor beneath. It was not a home, and was scarcely
a fit camping-ground for such a family squad as ours. Yet we had stayed
on for years in this long, narrow line of rooms, reaching from a
crowded street to a little back-yard full of noisy children by day, and
noisier cats by night. I had often thought of moving, but had failed to
find a better shelter that was within my very limited means. The
neighborhood was respectable, so far as a densely populated region can
be. It was not very distant from my place of business, and my work
often kept me so late at the office that we could not live in the
suburb. The rent was moderate for New York, and left me some money,
after food and clothing were provided, for occasional little outings
and pleasures, which I believe to be needed by both body and mind.
While the children were little--so long as they would "stay put" in the
cradle or on the floor--we did not have much trouble. Fortunately I had
good health, and, as my wife said, was "handy with children." Therefore
I could help her in the care of them at night, and she had kept much of
her youthful bloom. Heaven had blessed us. We had met with no serious
misfortunes, nor had any of our number been often prostrated by
prolonged and dangerous illness. But during the last year my wife had
been growing thin, and occasionally her voice had a sharpness which was
new. Every month Bobsey became more hard to manage. Our living-room was
to him like a cage to a wild bird, and slip away he would, to his
mother's alarm; for he was almost certain to get into mischief or
trouble. The effort to perform her household tasks and watch over him
was more wearing than it had been to rock him through long hours at
night when he was a teething baby. These details seem very homely no
doubt, yet such as these largely make up our lives. Comfort or
discomfort, happiness or unhappiness, springs from them. There is no
crop in the country so important as that of boys and girls. How could I
manage my little home-garden in a flat?
I looked thoughtfully from one to another, as with children's appetites
they became absorbed in one of the chief events of the day.
"Well," said my wife, querulously, "how are you getting on with your
problem?"
"Take this extra bit of steak and I'll tell you after the children are
asleep," I said.
"I can't eat another mouthful," she exclaimed, pushing back her almost
untasted supper. "Broiling the steak was enough for me."
"You are quite tired out, dear," I said, very gently.
Her face softened immediately at my tone and tears came into her eyes.
"I don't know what is the matter with me," she faltered. "I am so
nervous some days that I feel as if I should fly to pieces. I do try to
be patient, but I know I'm growing cross!"
"Oh now, mamma," spoke up warm-hearted Merton; "the idea of your being
cross."
"She IS cross," Bobsey cried; "she boxed my ears this very day."
"And you deserved it," was Merton's retort. "It's a pity they are not
boxed oftener."
"Yes, Robert, I did," continued my wife, sorrowfully. "Bobsey ran away
four times, and vexed me beyond endurance, that is, such endurance as I
have left, which doesn't seem to be very much."
"I understand, dear," I said. "You are a part of my problem, and you
must help me solve it." Then I changed the subject decidedly, and soon
brought sunshine to our clouded household. Children's minds are easily
diverted; and my wife, whom a few sharp words would have greatly
irritated, was soothed, and her curiosity awakened as to the subject of
my thoughts.