May I ask who are the 'we' who have such a very high opinion of me?"
"Why, mamma and the colonel and Mrs. Yush and Maggie and I; and I
s'pose all the fam'ly who know what a very great favor you are going to
do for us."
"And what is this wonderful favor?" asked Mr. Stanton.
"To marry Aunt Bessie, so she will be quite our very own," answered the
little girl. "And then you see that makes my soldier and Mrs. Yush our
own too. They are Uncle Horace and Aunt May now, for the colonel said
we might as well begin at once. We are all very, very pleased, Uncle
Yuthven, and Maggie and I think you are the kindest uncle that ever
lived."
"I am glad you have found that out at last," said Uncle Ruthven. "Here
I have been living for your happiness ever since I came home, and if
I had made this last sacrifice without your finding out that I am the
best and most generous uncle in the world, it would have been terrible
indeed."
"I don't believe you think it is a sacrifice," said Maggie. "I guess
you like it 'most as well as Bessie and I do."
"_Does_ he, Aunt Bessie?" asked little Bessie, in a tone as if this
could not be; at which Uncle Ruthven's gravity gave way, and the older
people all laughed heartily, though the children could not see why.
If Bessie had known how to express her feelings, she would have said
that it was Uncle Ruthven's manner when he was joking which caused her
to "have objections" to him. When Uncle John was joking, he had such
a merry face that it was quite easy to see what he meant; but Uncle
Ruthven always kept such a sober face and tone that it was hard to tell
whether he were in earnest or no. And now, when he caught her up in his
arms, and stood her upon the mantel-piece, she felt as if she still
only half approved of him; but it was not in her heart to find fault
with him just now, and she readily put up her lips for the kiss which
she knew he would claim before he let her go.
[Illustration: decoration, end of chap. 10]
[Illustration: Title decoration, chap. 11]
XI.
_BLIND WILLIE._
"Maggie and Bessie," said Mrs. Bradford, one day soon after this, "I am
going to send Jane over with some work to Mrs. Granby. Would you like
to go with her and see the policeman's children?"
Bessie answered "Yes," readily enough, but though Maggie would have
liked the long walk on this lovely day, she was rather doubtful of
the pleasure of calling on those who were entire strangers to her.
But after some little coaxing from Bessie, who said she would not go
without her, she was at last persuaded, and they set out with Jane,
taking Flossy with them.
The children had their hooples, which they trundled merrily before them
and Flossy went capering joyously along, sometimes running ahead,
for a short distance, and then rushing back to his little mistresses,
and if any rough boys made their appearance, keeping very close at
their side till all danger was past. For since Flossy was stolen, he
had been very careful as to the company he kept, and looked with a
very suspicious eye upon any one who wore a ragged coat, which was not
very just of Flossy, since a ragged coat may cover as true and honest
a heart as ever beat; but as the poor puppy knew no better, and had
received some hard treatment at the hands of those whose miserable
garments covered hard and cruel hearts, he must be excused for thinking
that the one was a sign of the other.
Flossy had turned out quite as pretty a little dog as he had promised
to be. His coat was long, soft, and silky, and beautifully marked in
brown and white; his drooping ears hung gracefully on each side of his
head, while his great black eyes were so knowing and affectionate that
it was hard to believe no soul looked out of them. It was no wonder
that almost every child they passed turned to take a second look, and
to wish that they, too, had such a pretty merry pet. Flossy was in
great favor that day on account of a droll trick which he had played,
much to the amusement of the children. Harry and Fred were very anxious
to teach him all manner of things, such as standing on his head,
pretending to be dead, and so forth; but Maggie and Bessie declared he
was too young to be taught anything except "to be good and polite," and
would not have him teased. Beside, he had funny tricks and ways of his
own which they thought much better than those, and was as full of play
and mischief as a petted doggie could be.
Harry had a weak ankle, which in his boyish frolics he was constantly
hurting, and now, having given it a slight sprain, he was laid up on
the sofa. On the day before this, his dinner had been sent to him,
but as it did not exactly suit him, he called Flossy, and writing
on a piece of paper what he desired, gave it to the dog, and told
him to take it to mamma. He was half doubtful if the creature would
understand; but Flossy ran directly to the dining-room with the paper
in his mouth, and gave it to Mrs. Bradford. As a reward for doing his
errand so well, she gave him a piece of cake, although it was against
her rules that he should be fed from the table.
On this day, Harry had been able to come down-stairs; and while the
children were at their dinner, Flossy was heard whining at the door.
Patrick opened it, and in he ran with a crumpled piece of paper, on
which Franky had been scribbling, in his mouth, and going to Mrs.
Bradford held it up to her, wagging his tail with an air which said
quite plainly, "Here is your paper, now give me my cake."
"Poor little doggie! He did not know why one piece of paper was not
as good as another, and Mrs. Bradford could not refuse him, while all
the children were quite delighted with his wisdom, and could not make
enough of him for the remainder of the day."
Maggie and Bessie were rather surprised at the appearance of the
policeman's house. It was so different from those which stood around
it, or from any which they were accustomed to see in the city; but it
looked very pleasant to them with its green shutters, old-fashioned
porch, and the little courtyard and great butternut tree in front.
The small plot of grass behind the white palings was quite green now,
and some of the buds on the hardier bushes were beginning to unfold
their young leaves. Altogether it looked very nice and homelike, none
the less so that Jennie Richards and her three younger brothers were
playing around, and digging up the fresh moist earth, with the fancy
that they were making a garden. But their digging was forgotten when
they saw Jane with her little charge.
"Does Mrs. Granby live here?" asked Jane, unlatching the gate.
"Yes, ma'am," answered Jennie. "Will you please to walk in?" and
opening the doors, Jennie showed the visitors into the sitting-room.
Mrs. Richards sat sewing, with Willie, as usual, beside her, rocking
ceaselessly back and forth in his little chair; while good Mrs. Granby,
who had been seated close by the window, and had seen Jane and the
children come in, was bustling about, placing chairs for them.
On Willie's knee was a Maltese kitten purring away contentedly; but the
moment she caught sight of Flossy, she sprang from her resting-place,
and, scampering into a corner, put up her back, and began spitting and
hissing in a very impolite manner. If Miss Pussy had been civil, Flossy
would probably have taken no notice of her; but when she drew attention
upon herself by this very rude behavior, he began to bark and jump
about her, more with a love of teasing than with any idea of hurting
her. It was quite a moment or two before these enemies could be
quieted, and then it was only done by Maggie catching up Flossy in her
arms, and Mrs. Granby thrusting the kitten into a bureau drawer with a
cuff on its ear.
The commotion being over, with the exception of an occasional spit from
the drawer, as if kitty were still conscious of the presence of her
foe, Bessie walked up to Mrs. Richards, and politely holding out her
hand, said, "We came to see you and your fam'ly, ma'am, and we're sorry
to make such a 'sturbance."
"Well," said Mrs. Richards, smiling at what she afterwards called
Bessie's old-fashioned ways,--"well, I think it was the kitten was to
blame for the disturbance, not you, nor your pretty dog there; and I'm
sure we're all glad to see you, dear. Are you the little girl that was
lost and taken up to the station?"
"Yes, I am," said Bessie; "but I was not taken up 'cause I was naughty,
but 'cause I could not find my way home. Is my policeman pretty well?"
"He's very well, thank you, dear; but he'll be mighty sorry to hear
you've been here, and he not home to see you."
"Mother," said Willie, "what a sweet voice that little girl has! Will
she let me touch her?"
"Would you, dear?" asked Mrs. Richards; "you see it's the only way he
has now of finding what anybody is like."
"Oh! he may touch me as much as he likes," said Bessie, and coming
close to the blind boy, she put her hand in his, and waited patiently
while he passed his fingers up her arm and shoulder, then over her
curls, cheek, and chin; for Willie Richards was already gaining that
quick sense of touch which God gives to the blind.
The mother's heart was full as she watched the two children, and saw
the tender, pitying gaze Bessie bent upon her boy.
"Poor Willie!" said the little girl, putting her arm about his neck, "I
am so sorry for you. But perhaps our Father will let you see again some
day."
"I don't know," said Willie, sadly; "they used to say I would be better
when the spring came, but the spring is here now, and it is no lighter.
Oh, it is so very, very dark!"
Bessie's lip quivered, and the tears gathered in her eyes as she raised
them to Mrs. Richards. But Mrs. Richards turned away her head. She
sometimes thought that Willie had guessed that the doctor had had hopes
of curing them in the spring, but she had not the courage to ask him.
Nor could she and his father bear to excite hopes which might again be
disappointed, by telling him to wait with patience till next year.
But Bessie did not know what made Mrs. Richards silent, and wondering
that she did not speak, she felt as if she must herself say something
to comfort him.
"But maybe next spring you will see, Willie," she said.
"Maybe so," said Willie, piteously, "but it is so long to wait."
Bessie was silent for a moment, not quite knowing what to say; then
she spoke again. "Wouldn't you like to come out and feel the spring,
Willie? It is nice out to-day and the wind is so pleasant and warm."
"No," answered Willie, almost impatiently, "I only want to stay here
with mother. I know it feels nice out; but the children come and say,
'_See_ the sky, how blue it is!' and '_Look_ at this flower,' when
I can't see them, and it makes me feel so bad, so bad. I know the
grass is green and the sky is blue, and the crocuses and violets are
coming out just as they used to when I could see, but I don't want
them to tell me of it all the time; and they forget, and it makes me
feel worse. But I wouldn't mind the rest so much if I could only see
mother's face just a little while every day, then I would be good and
patient all the time. Oh! if I only could see her, just a moment!"
"Don't, don't, sonny," said his mother, laying her hand lovingly on his
head.
It was the ceaseless burden of his plaintive song,--"If I only could
see mother's face! If I only could see mother's face!"
"And maybe you will some day, Willie," said Bessie; "so try to think
about that, and how she loves you just the same even if you don't see
her. And don't you like to know the blue sky is there, and that Jesus
is behind it, looking at you and feeling sorry for you? None of us can
see Jesus, but we know he sees us and loves us all the same; don't we?
Couldn't you feel a little that way about your mother, Willie?"
"I'll try," said Willie, with the old patient smile coming back again.
Poor Willie! It was not usual for him to be impatient or fretful. But
he had been sadly tried that day in the way he had spoken of, and the
longing for his lost sight was almost too great to be borne. But now
Mrs. Granby, suspecting something of what was going on on that side of
the room, came bustling up to Willie and Bessie, bringing Maggie with
her. Maggie had been making acquaintance with Jennie while Bessie was
talking with the blind boy.
"Willie," said Mrs. Granby, "here's just the prettiest little dog that
ever lived, and he is as tame and gentle as can be. If Miss Maggie
don't object, maybe he'd lie a bit on your knee, and let you feel his
nice long ears and silken hair."
"Yes, take him," said Maggie, putting her dog into Willie's arms.
Flossy was not usually very willing to go to strangers; but now,
perhaps, his doggish instinct told him that this poor boy had need of
pity and kindness. However that was, he lay quietly in Willie's clasp,
and looking wistfully into his sightless eyes, licked his hands and
face.
Maggie and Bessie were delighted, and began to tell Willie of Flossy's
cunning ways. The other children gathered about to listen and admire
too, and presently Willie laughed outright as they told of his cute
trick with the crumpled paper.
And now, whether Miss Kitty saw through the crack of the drawer that
her young master was fondling a new pet, or whether she only guessed at
it, or whether she thought it hard that fun should be going on in which
she had no share, cannot be told; but just then there came from her
prison-place such a hissing and sputtering and scratching that every
one of the children set up a shout of laughter. Not since his blindness
came upon him had his mother heard Willie's voice sound so gleeful, and
now in her heart she blessed the dear little girl who she felt had done
him good. Then as the children begged for her, kitty was released; but
as she still showed much ill-temper, Mrs. Granby was obliged to put her
in the other room.
Soon after this our little girls, with their nurse, took leave, having
presented Willie with a new book, and his mother with some useful
things mamma had sent, and giving Willie and Jennie an invitation to
come and see them.
They did not go back as joyfully as they had come. Somehow, in spite of
the good laugh they had had, the thought of blind Willie made them feel
sad, and giving Jane their hooples to carry, they walked quietly by her
side, hand in hand.
Bessie was half heart-broken as she told her mamma of the blind boy's
longing to see his mother's face, and neither she nor Maggie quite
recovered their usual spirits for the remainder of the day. Mamma was
almost sorry she had allowed them to go.
"And what makes my princess so sad this evening?" asked Uncle Ruthven,
lifting Bessie upon his knee.
"Don't you think you'd be very sad, sir, if you were blind?"
"Doubtless I should, dear. I think, of all my senses, my sight is the
one I prize most, and for which I am most thankful. But you are not
going to lose your sight; are you, Bessie?"
"No," said Bessie; "but Willie Richards has lost his. He is quite,
quite blind, uncle, and can't see his mother's face; and they can't
let the doctor cure him, 'cause they are too poor. Maggie and I wished
to help them very much, and we wanted to ask them to take all the
glove-money we have,--that is what mamma lets us have to do charity
with,--but mamma says it would not be much help, and she thinks we had
better keep it to buy some little thing Willie may need. And we are
very grieved for him."
"Poor little princess!" said Mr. Stanton. "And why did you not come to
me for help? What is the good of having an old uncle with plenty of
money in his pockets, if you do not make him 'do charity' for you? Let
me see. How comes on the history of the 'Complete Family,' Maggie?"
"Oh! it's 'most finished," said Maggie. "At least, that book is; but we
are going to have another volume. Mamma likes us to write it. She says
it is good practice, and will make it easy for us to write compositions
by and by."
"Very sensible of mamma," said Mr. Stanton. "But I think you said you
wished to sell it when it was finished, so that you might help the
poor."
"Yes, sir."
"Well, you know I am going away to-morrow morning,--going to take Aunt
Bessie to Baltimore to see her sister. We shall be gone about a week.
If your book is finished when we come home, I shall see if I cannot
find a purchaser for it. And you might use the money for the blind boy
if you like."
Just at this moment nurse put her head in at the door with "Come along,
my honeys. Your mamma is waiting up-stairs for you, and it's your
bed-time."
"In one instant, mammy," said Mr. Stanton. "Is it a bargain, little
ones? If I find a man to buy your book, will you have it ready, and
trust it to me, when I come back?"
The children were willing enough to agree to this; and Maggie only
wished that it was not bed-time, so that she might finish the book
that very night. Uncle Ruthven said they would talk more about it when
he returned, and bade them "Good-night."
"My darlings," said mamma, when they went up-stairs, "I do not want you
to distress yourselves about blind Willie. When the time comes for the
doctor to perform the operation on his eyes, I think the means will be
found to pay him. But you are not to say anything about it at present.
I only tell you because I do not like to see you unhappy."
"Are you or papa going to do it, mamma?" asked Bessie.
"We shall see," said Mrs. Bradford, with a smile.
"Perhaps we can help you a little," said Maggie, joyfully; and she told
her mother of her uncle's proposal about the book.
[Illustration: Title decoration, chap. 12]
XII.
_MAGGIE'S BOOK._
Uncle Ruthven and Aunt Bessie went away the next morning, and were gone
nearly a week, and very much did the children miss them, especially as
the week proved one of storm and rain, and they were shut up in the
house.
During all this stormy weather Aunt Patty seemed very anxious to go
out, watching for the first glimpse of sunshine. But none came, and
at last, one morning when there was a fine, drizzling rain, she came
down dressed for a walk. Mrs. Bradford was much astonished, for Mrs.
Lawrence was subject to rheumatism, and it was very imprudent for
her to go out in the damp. In vain did Mrs. Bradford offer to send a
servant on any errand she might wish to have done. Aunt Patty would
not listen to it for a moment, nor would she allow a carriage to be
sent for, nor tell where she was going.
She stayed a long time, and when the boys ran home from school in the
midst of a hard shower, they were surprised to meet her just getting
out of a carriage which had drawn up around the corner. Aunt Patty did
not seem at all pleased to see them, and in answer to their astonished
inquiries, "Why, Aunt Patty! where have you been?" and "Why don't you
let the carriage leave you at the house?" answered, sharply, "When I
was young, old people could mind their own affairs without help from
school-boys."
"Not without help from school-_girls_, when _she_ was around, I guess,"
whispered Fred to his brother, as they fell behind, and let the old
lady march on.
Nor was she more satisfactory when she reached home, and seemed only
desirous to avoid Mrs. Bradford's kind inquiries and anxiety lest she
should have taken cold. This was rather strange, for it was not Aunt
Patty's way to be mysterious, and she was generally quite ready to let
her actions be seen by the whole world. But certainly no one would
have guessed from her manner that she had that morning been about her
Master's work.
Uncle Ruthven and Aunt Bessie came home that afternoon, and found no
reason to doubt their welcome.
"We're very glad to see you, Uncle Er-er _R_uthven," said Bessie,
bringing out the _R_ quite clearly.
"Hallo!" said her uncle, "so you have come to it at last; have you? You
have been learning to talk English while I was away. Pretty well for my
princess! What reward shall I give you for that _R_uthven?"
"I don't want a reward," said the little princess, gayly. "I tried to
learn it 'cause I thought you wanted me to; and you are so kind to us
I wanted to please you. Besides, I am growing pretty old, and I ought
to learn to talk plain. Why, Uncle Ruthven, I'll be six years old when
I have a birthday in May, and the other day we saw a little girl,--she
was blind Willie's sister,--and she couldn't say _th_, though she
is 'most seven; and I thought it sounded pretty foolish; and then I
thought maybe it sounded just as foolish for me not to say _r_, so I
tried and tried, and Maggie helped me."
"Uncle Ruthven," said Maggie, coming to his side, and putting her arm
about his neck, she whispered in his ear, "did you ever find a man to
buy my book?"
"To be sure," said Mr. Stanton, "a first-rate fellow, who promised to
take it at once. He would like to know how much you want for it?"
"I don't know," said Maggie; "how much can he afford?"
"Ah! you answer my question by another. Well, he is pretty well off,
that fellow, and I think he will give you sufficient to help along that
blind friend of yours a little. We will not talk of that just now,
however, but when you go up-stairs, I will come up and see you, and we
will settle it all then."
"Here is a prize," said Mr. Stanton, coming into the parlor some hours
later, when the children had all gone; and he held up Maggie's history
of the "Complete Family."
"What is that?" asked Colonel Rush, who with his wife had come to
welcome his sister.
Mr. Stanton told the story of the book.
"But how came it into your hands?" asked Mr. Bradford.
"Oh, Maggie and I struck a bargain to-night," said Mr. Stanton,
laughing, "and the book is mine to do as I please with."
"Oh, Ruthven, Ruthven!" said his sister, coming in as he spoke, and
passing her hand affectionately through his thick, curly locks, "you
have made two happy hearts to-night. Nor will the stream of joy you
have set flowing stop with my little ones. That poor blind child and
his parents--"
"There, there, that will do," said Mr. Stanton, playfully putting his
hand on Mrs. Bradford's lips. "Sit down here, Margaret. I shall give
you all some passages from Maggie's book. If I am not mistaken, it will
be a rich treat."
Poor little Maggie! She did not dream, as she lay happy and contented
on her pillow, how merry they were all making over her "Complete
Family," as Uncle Ruthven read aloud from it such passages as these.
"The Happy father and mother brought up their children in the way they
should go, but sometimes the children went out of it, which was not the
blame of their kind parents, for they knew better, and they ought to be
ashamed of themselves, and it is a great blessing for children to have
parents.
"The colonel had a new leg, not a skin one, but a man made it, but
you would not know it, it looks so real, and he can walk with it and
need not take his crutches, and the souls of M. and B. Happy were very
glad because this was a great rejoicing, and it is not a blessing to
be lame, but to have two legs is, and when people have a great many
blessings, they ought to 'praise God from whom all blessings flow;' but
they don't always, which is very wicked.
"This very Complete Family grew completer and completer, for the
travelling uncle married Aunt Bessie, I mean he is going to marry her,
so she will be our own aunt and not just a make b'lieve, and all the
family are very glad and are very much obliged to him for being so
kind, but I don't think he is a great sacrifice.
"M. and B. Happy went to see the policeman's children. Blind Willie
was sorrowful and can't see his mother, or anything, which is no
consequence, if he could see his mother's face, for if M. Happy and
B. Happy could not see dear mamma's face they would cry all the time.
I mean M. would, but Bessie is better than me so maybe she would not,
and Willie is very patient, and the cat was very abominable, and if
Flossy did so, Bessie and I would be disgraced of him. She humped
up her back and was cross, so Mrs. Granby put her in the drawer, but
she put a paw out of the crack and spit and scratched and did 'most
everything. Oh! such a bad cat!!!!!! Jennie she cannot say th, and
afterwards I laughed about it, but Bessie said I ought not, because she
cannot say r and that was 'most the same. And she is going to try and
say Uncle Ruthven's name quite plain and hard, he is so very good to
us, and he promised to find a man to buy this book, and we hope the man
will give five dollars to be a great help for blind Willie's doctor. I
suppose he will ask everybody in the cars if they want to buy a book to
print, that somebody of his wrote, but he is not going to tell our name
because I asked him not to."
The book ended in this way:--