In the year 1807 there stood on the beautiful banks of the river Esk, in
Dumfriesshire, one of the most southern counties in Scotland, a small
cottage. The neat white walls, well-thatched roof, and clean
casement-windows, ornamented as they were with honeysuckles and roses,
attracted the admiration of a few strangers, who, from the uncommon beauty
and grandeur of the scenery, were tempted to turn off the direct road from
Langholm to Edinburgh, and follow the windings of the river to its source.
The cottages in general, in that part of the country, present a very
different appearance; having too frequently a look of neglect, the windows
broken, the walls dirty, and instead of a pretty garden, a heap of mud
before the door. The contrast, therefore, rendered this building the more
remarkable; and led people to suppose, what indeed was the case, that its
inhabitants were more industrious, and had seen a little more of the
customs of other countries, than their less neat and cleanly neighbours.
The names of the couple who resided on this spot, were John and Marion
Telfer: their history I am now going to relate. John was the only son of
an honest, industrious couple, who lived in the neighbourhood of Langholm,
but who unfortunately both died of a fever, when he was little more than
ten years old, leaving him nothing but their blessing, and the virtuous
habits of integrity and obedience, in which they had trained him from his
earliest youth. On their death-bed they entreated that the excellent
clergyman, who, in spite of the malignity of the disease, continued to
comfort and pray by them in their last moments, would take compassion on
their poor little orphan, and find him employment among the neighbouring
farmers, either as a herd-boy to some of the numerous flocks of sheep
which are common in Eskdale, or as a plough-boy in their fields. Mr.
Martin, for such was the name of the pious pastor, assured them that he
would do all in his power for their child: and he kept his word; for as
soon as they were dead, he took the boy home to his own house, and there
endeavoured, by kindness and sympathy, to console him for his great and
irreparable loss. For some days, all his endeavours were unsuccessful.
John, though sensible of the kind attentions of Mr. Martin, still felt
miserable and unhappy. All his dear mother's care and tenderness; all the
pains and trouble that his kind father used to take in teaching him to
read his Bible, after, perhaps, a hard day's work; the delight with which
they both watched his improvement--all, all rose to poor John's mind, and
made him believe he never more could be happy.
Mr. Martin, at last, seeing the boy's melancholy continue, thought that a
little employment might serve to rouse him. He therefore one morning
called John into his study, and asked him if he would be so good as to
assist in dusting and arranging some books, which were in a large chest in
the corner of the room. John, from lowness of spirits, did not much like
to be employed; but as he had been taught by his father always to be
obedient, and to do at once whatever he was desired, he immediately set
about dusting the books. The first two or three he merely wiped, and put
them down without looking at them; but at last, in rubbing one, a leaf
fell out, which obliged him to open the book to put it back again. The
work happened to be a handsome edition of Robinson Crusoe, with very
beautiful prints. Mr. Martin, who was watching him unobserved, called to
him to bring the book, and then told him he might look at the pictures if
he pleased. John, who had never seen any thing of the kind before, was
delighted with this permission, and placing himself at a little distance,
so as not to disturb Mr. Martin, began turning over the leaves; his eyes
sparkling, and his little hands trembling with increased delight, at every
new scene that was represented. At last he came to the one where Man
Friday is saved from the savages. Here his curiosity got the better of the
natural awe he felt for Mr. Martin; and he cried out, "Pray, Sir, be so
good as to tell me what this means!"--for though John had been taught to
read his Bible, as well as his poor father was capable of teaching, yet
this was in so imperfect a way, that he could by no means read easily, and
was obliged to spell more than half his words. Mr. Martin smiled
good-naturedly, as John's exclamation made him raise his head from the
book he was reading; and desiring him to come near his chair, he
explained, at some length, what the print represented; after which he
asked John if he would not like to be able to read the story himself. John
immediately answered, "O dear! yes Sir, that I should; but," looking down,
and the tears starting into his eyes, "that can never be now; for my dear
father is dead and gone; and nobody else will ever take the trouble to
teach so poor a boy as I am. And yet," continued he, looking in Mr.
Martin's face, and brightening a little with a kind of hope, "don't you
think, Sir, that if I succeed in getting a place, and if I am _very,
very_ attentive, and always take pains to please my master, I may in time
be able to save, out of my wages, as much as a penny a week, for I know if
I could do that, I might go to the school at Langholm. I remember hearing
my poor dear father wish very much that he could afford to pay so much
money for me; as he said he was sure that Mr. Campbell would teach me to
read much better than he could."
John here stopped, and seemed to wait anxiously to hear what Mr. Martin
would say to his little plan. After a few minutes' consideration, this
worthy man replied, "my dear John, I am afraid it would be a long time
before you would be able to save so much out of the very small sum that
such a little boy as you can earn;" but, seeing the poor fellow look
disappointed, he went on to say, that he had a little scheme to propose,
which he hoped John would like as well as going to Langholm school. He
then added, "my dear John, when your parents were dying, I promised them
to take care of you, and to endeavour to find a master who would be
willing to take you into his service, and treat you kindly. With that
view, I have been inquiring all around, amongst my parishioners, whether
any of them were in want of such a little fellow; and this morning my
neighbour, Mr. Laurie, has called to ask me if I think you may be trusted
with the care of a flock of sheep, up behind the hills, on the other side
of the river. I told him you might certainly be trusted, as I was sure you
were an honest boy; and that if you undertook the charge, after he had
explained to your what your duty was to consist in, I had no doubt you
would do all in your power to perform it. But, at the same time, I told
him you must determine for yourself; as I would on no account press you to
leave me sooner than was quite agreeable to your own feelings. Now,"
continued he, seeing John beginning to speak, "hear what I have to propose
to you. It is, that if you go to live with Mr. Laurie, I will make an
agreement with him, provided you are a careful and industrious boy in his
service through the day, that he shall allow you, after you have penned
your sheep, to come to me for an hour in the evening; and in that hour, if
we both, my dear boy, make a good use of our time, I in teaching, and you
in learning, I have little doubt but that in a very short time you will be
able to read perfectly, both this book and many other useful and
entertaining stories. Take time to reflect on what I have been saying to
you," continued Mr. Martin, "and be sure that you are resolved in your own
mind to be an honest and industrious servant to Mr. Laurie, so far as your
strength and years will allow, before you engage with him; and if, after
thinking over the subject, you believe that you can promise me to be very
attentive, and strive to learn what I shall be most willing to teach you,
then, my dear John, I shall consider the plan as nearly settled, and shall
only wait till I have seen Mr. Laurie to make it completely so."
Mr. Martin then pointed to the green plat before the window, where his
little daughter was standing looking at some beautiful crocuses, which had
made their first appearance that season; and said, "Go, John, now; and let
me see if you are a handy lad, and can get Master William's pony ready for
Helen; as I have promised her a ride up the glen, if she has pleased her
mother by attention to her morning lessons; and I think, by her merry
face, she must have earned her reward. I am going a couple of miles to see
David Little, who, you know, broke his leg last week by a fall from his
horse; and if you will go and get the pony ready, I will desire Mrs.
Martin to put up a loaf of wheaten bread, which will be a rarity to him,
and which he may perhaps relish more than his oaten cakes whilst he is
sick; and you, John, get your bonnet (boys always wear Highland bonnets,
instead of hats, in the hilly part of Scotland) and come along with us; as
you can carry the basket and open the gates for Helen. To-morrow morning
will be time enough for you to give me your answer about Mr. Laurie." John
made an awkward bow, and a scrape with his foot, and then set off in
search of the pony, which was feeding on a green flat plain by the side of
a river, which sort of meadow in that country is called a _holm_. The
animal appeared very quiet, and suffered John to come close to him,
without attempting to move; but the moment he tried to put out his hand to
take hold of him, off went the pony as fast as he could scamper. When he
got at a little distance, he stopped and looked back at John, who again
approached and attempted to lay hold of him, but with no better success.
All this was observed by Helen, for the green plat, where she stood,
overlooked the holm; and though she could not help laughing at first, on
seeing John's awkward attempts to catch the pony, yet, as she was a
good-natured little girl, she soon ran into the house, and begged a little
corn of her papa, and having put it in her pinafore, she skipped down the
lane with it to the holm, where holding it out to let Bob (for that was
the pony's name) see it, he instantly began trotting towards her, neighing
with pleasure. She then told John to throw the halter over Bob's neck
while he was eating, and he might jump on his back and ride him up to the
stable, where he would find the side-saddle. John very soon appeared in
front of the house with the pony neatly combed, brushed, and ornamented
with a very pretty little white side-saddle and bridle, a present which
Helen had received from her grand-mamma the last time she had visited
Eskdale. "My dear Helen," said the old lady, when she presented them to
her, "I have brought you this side-saddle, in hopes that it may induce you
to conquer your fears of mounting a horse. I am very anxious, considering
the part of the world in which you live, that you should learn to ride
well; as it may be of essential consequences to you through life.
Besides," added she, smiling, "you know, my dear, that unless you are a
good horsewoman, I can never have the pleasure of seeing you at Melrose;
for your dear papa cannot afford to send you by any other mode of
conveyance. Nothing but practice will ever give you the confidence that is
necessary to enable you to accomplish this; and I hope that, whenever you
see pony dressed in his new saddle and bridle, it will remind you of the
great delight that I shall have in seeing my dear girl riding up to my
door at Melrose." Helen thanked her grandmother, and said she would try if
she could learn; but she hoped her papa would walk close by her side, and
make Bob go very slowly at first. Nothing, she was sure, would give her so
much pleasure as to go and visit her dear grandmamma. Her mother took an
opportunity of speaking to her when they were alone, and told her that if,
in the course of the summer, she had gained a sufficient command of her
pony and a firm seat in her side-saddle, she should accompany both her
parents to Melrose in August, the time when they usually made their annual
visit to the good old lady.
Helen was quite delighted with this promise, and for the moment forgot
what she had to accomplish before her journey could take place. However,
next morning, on going down stairs, after she had finished her lessons,
she found that, though she had forgotten all about learning to ride, her
father had not; for before the little glass door of the study stood Bob,
the pony, ready saddled and bridled, and her papa waiting anxiously for
his little girl's appearance. As soon as he saw her, he called out, "come
Helen, my dear, I am quite ready to give you your first lesson in riding,
and I hope I shall have an expert little scholar." Helen walked rather
slowly towards her papa; and when he took her in his arms to put her on
the pony, she looked a little pale, but as she had promised to try to
learn, she endeavoured to conquer her fears, and suffered herself to be
placed on the saddle very quietly. Her father took a great deal of pains
to show her how to hold her bridle, and how to manage Bob; and after
making him walk gently two or three times round the green, in front of the
house, whilst he himself held her on, Mr. Martin ventured to leave her
seated alone, and only walked by her side.
After repeating this for two or three days, Helen began to feel more
comfortable, and even was glad when her riding hour arrived. In the course
of a week she had ridden as far as the end of the green holm, and had
begun to allow Bob to trot home. In another week she had ventured on a
canter: and for the last month had improved so much as to become her
father's constant companion in all his walks through the parish, when he
went either to visit the sick, or comfort the afflicted; duties which are
conscientiously performed by the Scottish clergy in general, and by none
more regularly than they were by Mr. Martin. Helen now felt that she was
rewarded for all the trouble she had had in conquering her fears; for,
besides the pleasure she enjoyed in the exercise, she was by these means
enabled to see much more of the beautiful country in which she lived, than
she could ever have accomplished by walking; and besides, her dear father
was always by her side, to point out and explain all the beauties of the
surrounding scenery, as well as to relate to her many of the little local
stories, which abound in that part of the country, and possess peculiar
interest to the young mind. Her mother, on her return, quite delighted,
from one of these charming excursions, took the opportunity of pointing
out to her the advantages of perseverance and self-command, and Helen
promised, and indeed firmly resolved, never again to allow herself to give
way to foolish fears; nor ever to fancy it impossible to conquer what
might at first sight appear difficult, until she had at least tried with
her whole mind to overcome the difficulty.