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[Illustration: "SUCH WAS THE PICTURE THAT PRESENTED ITSELF TO MY
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UNCLE RUTHERFORD'S NIECES
A STORY FOR GIRLS
By
JOANNA H. MATHEWS
_Author of "The Bessie Books," "Uncle Rutherford's Attic,"
"Breakfast for Two," etc._
"For ruling wisely I should have small skill,
Were I not lord of simple Dara still."
WITH ORIGINAL ILLUSTRATIONS
NEW YORK
FREDERICK A. STOKES & BROTHER
1888
Copyright, 1888,
By FREDERICK A. STOKES & BROTHER.
DEDICATED TO
HERBERT HUNT,
WITH LOVING AND BEST WISHES FOR HIS FUTURE YEARS,
ON HIS BIRTHDAY,
AUGUST 6, 1888.
CONTENTS.
PAGE
CHAPTER I.
AN ARITHMETICAL PUZZLE 7
CHAPTER II.
A CABLEGRAM 27
CHAPTER III.
AN ARRIVAL 47
CHAPTER IV.
"FOOD FOR THE GODS" 71
CHAPTER V.
THE "MORNING BUGLE" 89
CHAPTER VI.
UNCLE RUTHERFORD'S PRIZE 107
CHAPTER VII.
TWO PEANUT-VENDERS 129
CHAPTER VIII.
NOT ON THE PROGRAMME 151
CHAPTER IX.
MATTY 173
CHAPTER X.
A COLD BATH 195
CHAPTER XI.
FIVE DOLLARS 219
CHAPTER XII.
CAUGHT IN THE ACT 241
CHAPTER XIII.
MATTY IS PROVIDED FOR 261
CHAPTER XIV.
JIM'S CONFESSION 285
UNCLE RUTHERFORD'S NIECES
CHAPTER I.
AN ARITHMETICAL PUZZLE.
A sunny and a dark head, both bent over a much-befigured, much-besmeared
slate, the small brows beneath the curls puckered,--the one in
perplexity, the other with sympathy; opposite these two a third head
whose carrotty hue betrayed it to be Jim's, although the face
appertaining thereto was hidden from my view, as its owner, upon his
hands and knees, also peered with interest at the slate. Wanderer,
familiarly known as "Wand,"--the household dog, and the inseparable
companion of my little sisters,--lay at their feet, as they sat upon a
low rustic seat, manufactured for their special behoof by the devoted
Jim; its chief characteristic being a tendency to upset, unless the
occupant or occupants maintained the most exact balance, a seat not to
be depended upon by the unwary or uninitiated, under penalty of a
disagreeable surprise. To Allie and Daisy, however, it was a work of
art, and left nothing to be desired, they having become accustomed to
its vagaries.
Such was the picture which presented itself to my view as I came out on
the piazza of our summer-home by the sea, and from that point of
vantage looked down upon the little group on the lawn below.
But the problem upon which all three were intent had evidently proved
too much for the juvenile arithmeticians; and, as I looked, Allie
pushed the slate impatiently from her, saying,--
"I can't make it out, Jim: it's too hard. You are too mixed up."
"Now, Miss Allie! an' you with lessons every day," said Jim
reproachfully. "Should think you might make it out."
"I'm not so very grown up, Jim," answered the little girl; "and I've
not gone so very far in the 'rithmetic; and I'm sure this kind of a sum
must be in the very back part of the book."
"Here comes Bill," said Jim, as a boy of his own age and social
standing appeared around the corner of the house, a tin pail in one
hand, a shrimp-net in the other. "Maybe he'll know. Mr. Edward's taught
him lots of figgerin'. Come on, Bill, an' help me an' Miss Allie make
out this sum. You ought to know it, bein' a Wall-street man."
Allie said nothing; but I saw a slight elevation of her little head and
a pursing of her rosy lips, which told me that she did not altogether
relish the idea that a servant-boy might possess superior knowledge to
herself, although he might be nearly double her age. Allie's sense of
class distinctions was strong.
Having faith in his own attainments, however, the "Wall-street
man"--this was the liberal interpretation put by Jim upon his position
as office-boy to brother Edward--deposited his pail and net upon the
ground, and himself in a like humble position beside his fellow-servant
and chum. He might be learned, but he was not proud by reason thereof.
"Now le's see, Miss Allie," he said; "what is it you're tryin' to
figger out?"
"It's Jim's sum; and I can't see a bit of sense in it, even when it's
down on the slate," answered Allie, still in a somewhat aggrieved tone.
"He's as mixed up as a--as a--any thing," she concluded hastily, at a
loss for a simile of sufficient force.
"As a Rhode-Island clam-bake when they puts fish an' clams an'
sweet-potatoes an' corn all in to once," said Jim.
"_At_ once, not _to_ once; and they _put_, not they _puts_," corrected
Allie, who, remarkably choice herself in the matter of language, never
lost sight of a slip in grammar on the part of our _protégés_.
"Seems funny, Miss Allie, that you, that's so clever in the right ways
of talkin', can't do a sum," said Jim.
Allie's self-complacency was somewhat restored by the compliment; but
she still answered, rather resentfully,--
"Well, I can, a decent sum! I had five lines yesterday, and added it
all right, too; but a sum like that--I b'lieve even brother Ned
couldn't do it!"
That which brother Ned could not do was not to be compassed by man, in
the opinion of the children. And, as if this settled the matter, Allie
rose from her seat, forgetting for the moment the necessity for keeping
an exact equilibrium, and that both its occupants must rise
simultaneously, unless dire results were to follow to the one left
behind. The usual catastrophe took place: the vacant end went up, and
Daisy was thrown upon the ground, the seat fortunately being so low
that her fall was from no great height; but the rickety contrivance
turned over upon the child, and she received quite a severe blow upon
her head. This called for soothing and ministration from an older
source, and, for the time, put all thought of arithmetical puzzles to
flight; but after I had quieted her, and she rested, with little
arnica-bound head against my shoulder, Jim returned to the charge.
"Miss Amy," he said, a little doubtfully, as not being quite sure of my
powers, "bein' almost growed up, you're good at doin' up sums, I
s'pose."
Now, arithmetic was not altogether my strong point, nevertheless I
believed myself quite equal to any problem of that nature which Jim was
likely to propound; and I answered vain-gloriously, and with a view to
divert the attention of the still-sobbing Daisy from her own woes,--
"Of course, Jim. What do you want to know? No," declining the soiled
slate which he proffered for my use, "I'll just do it in my head."
"You're awful smart then, Miss Amy," said Bill, admiringly.
But the question set before me by Jim proved so inextricably involved,
so hopelessly "mixed up," as poor little Allie had said, that, even
with the aid of the rejected slate, it would, I believe, have lain
beyond the powers of the most accomplished arithmetician to solve. No
wonder that it had puzzled Allie's infantile brains. To recall and set
it down here, at this length of time, would be quite impossible; nor
would the reader care to have it inflicted upon him. Days, weeks, and
years, peanuts, pence, and dollars, were involved in the statement he
made, or attempted to make, for me to work out the solution thereof;
but it was hopeless to try to tell what the boy would be at; and,
indeed, his own ideas on the subject were more than hazy, and, to his
great disappointment, I was obliged to own myself vanquished.
"What are you at, Jim?" I asked. "What object have you in all
this"--rigmarole, I was about to say, but regard for his feelings
changed it into "troublesome sum?"
Jim looked sheepish.
"Now, Miss Amy," broke in Bill, "he's got peanuts on his mind; how much
he could make on settin' up some one in the peanut-business, an'
gettin' his own profits off it. But now, Miss, did you ever hear of a
peanut-man gettin' to be President of the United States, an' settin' in
the White House?"
"I believe I never heard of any peanut-man coming to that, Bill," I
answered, laughing; "but I have heard of men whose early occupations
were quite as lowly, becoming President in their later years."
"An' I ain't goin' to be any peanut-man," said Jim. "I'm just goin' to
stick to this place, an' Miss Milly an' her folks, till I get
eddication enough to be a lawyer. I find it's mostly lawyers or sojers
that gets to be Presidents; lawyers like Mr. Edward. Miss Amy," with a
sudden air of apprehension, "you don't think Mr. Edward would try to
cut me out, do you? He might, you know; an', bein' older an' with more
learnin', he would have the start of me."
"I do not think that Mr. Edward has any ambition to be President, Jim,"
I answered, reassuringly. "You need have no fear of him."
For to no less a height than this did Jim's ambition soar, and he had
full faith that he should in time attain thereto. In his opinion, the
day would surely come when,--
"The Father of his country's shoes
No feet would fit but his'n."
And it was with a single eye to this that his rules of life were
conformed. The reforms which he intended to institute, mostly in the
interest of boys of his own age and social standing, when he should
have attained to that dignity, were marvellous and startling. No
autocrat of all the Russias, no sultan, was ever endowed with the
irresponsible powers which Jim believed to appertain to the position he
coveted; but, to his credit be it said, these were to be exercised by
him more for the benefit of others than for himself.
But he repudiated, now, the idea that the peanut venture upon which his
mind was dwelling had any thing to do with his future honors.
"Brother Edward would not be so mean to you, Jim," quoth Allie, who was
standing by my knee. "You spoke first to be President, and he would
never do such a thing as to take it from you."
"And Jim is not thinking about that when he tries to find out that
sum," said Daisy, raising her little bandaged head from my shoulder;
"he is quite nice and pious, sister Amy, and wants to do a very right
thing."
"'Tain't for pious, neither, Miss Daisy," said Jim, who rather resented
the imputation of being influenced by motives of that nature. "'Tain't
none of your doin' good to folks, nor any of that kind of thing; it's
on'y to animals, cause I'm sorry for 'em."
"O Jim, what grammar!" sighed Allie. For Jim, when excited or specially
interested, was apt to lapse into the vernacular against which he and
his friends were striving; Allie in particular setting her face against
it, and constituting herself his instructress and monitress in grammar
and style.
"Can't help it, Miss Allie," said Jim. "Can't keep grammar an'
'rithmetic into my head both to once; leastways, not when the
'rithmetic's such a hard one as this."
The excuse was accepted as valid; and Jim and the matter which was now
agitating his mind, both being at present in high favor and held in
great interest, any further lapses were suffered to pass without
correction or remark.
Jim's love for and sympathy with all animals, especially such as were
feeble or disabled in any way, was a well-known trait. A maimed or
otherwise afflicted dog, horse, cat, or bird was sure to meet with more
favor in his eyes than the most beautiful and perfect of its kind; and
he had a horror of shooting birds or other game, which was quite
remarkable in a boy of his antecedents. He even questioned the right
and expediency of killing animals for food, although he never objected
to partaking thereof when it was set before him. Fish, only, seemed to
him legitimate prey in the way of sport; and for all noxious insects,
snakes, or vermin of any description, he had a perfect hatred, setting
at naught the principles of the Society for the Prevention of Cruelty,
and really taking a most reprehensible delight in tormenting them,
altogether at variance with his feeling for other creatures.
"Bill," I said, turning to that youth as the most practical and
clear-headed of the group, "tell me if you know what it is that Jim
desires to find out, and the rest of you keep silence, and do not
interrupt."
"Well, Miss Amy," answered Bill, "it's just this. Jim was readin' in
the newspaper about a' old lady, how she left all her money--an' she'd
worked hard for it too, makin' a show of herself on account of bein' so
fat--to keep a hospital for all sorts of hurt an' sick animals an'
birds; an' Jim, he's just about as much took up with animals an' natur
an' things of that kind as she must ha' been, even if he ain't so fat;
an' he's got it on his mind to set up his own hospital, an' let Tony
Blair an' his sister Matty keep it an' take care of the animals. Tony's
lame, you know, and Matty's hunchbacked, an' can't work; so it's kind
of beginnin' on the two-legged animals--at least, Tony's only one
legged, but he has a right to be two, an' it's a help to them, too."
Poor Tony Blair, with his deformed sister, had formerly been associates
and chums of Bill and Jim, in the days when these last had themselves
been young vagabonds, waifs, and strays, buffetting with a hard world;
and that sentiment in Jim, which was "took up with animals an' natur,"
had led him to befriend the helpless creatures, and to do them such
kind turns as fell in his way. Overwhelming modesty, or a desire to
hide his light under a bushel, were not distinguishing characteristics
of Jim; but Bill also had borne ample testimony to the fact, that many
a time in the old days Jim had deprived himself of a meal--Milly come
by, it might be--to give it to the little cripples, poorly provided for
by a drunken father and ill-tempered mother to whom they were naught
but a burden. Many a faded and limp bouquet, discarded by some happier
child of fortune, did Jim rescue from the ash-heap and bring to Matty,
who had a passionate love for flowers; and not seldom during the spring
and summer months would he take a long trudge into the suburbs, and
gather wild blossoms to gratify the craving of the little hunchback. On
one of these occasions he stole a little, fluffy chicken, which had
wandered from its mother's guardianship beyond the garden palings of a
small cottage, and, hastily buttoning it beneath his worn jacket, made
off as fast as his feet would carry him to bestow his prize upon Matty,
who had expressed a longing desire for a bird. But the stolen gift
brought naught but distress to Matty's tender heart; for, when the
ragged jacket was unbuttoned, the little yellow ball fell lifeless into
Jim's hand.
"I'm sure I thought he'd got lots of air to breathe," said Jim, wofully
gazing at his victim, while Matty's tears bedewed it; "there's holes
enough in my jacket to make it as ventilatin' as a' ash-sifter, an' it
was awful mean in him to up an' die on me that way. An', Matty, I wish
I hadn't brought him, for him to go an' disappint you like this. Never
mind, some day I'll buy you a parrot an' a monkey."
Tearful Matty declined the monkey, but the parrot had long since
gladdened her weary hours; for a gorgeous specimen, given to much
screaming, even more than is the usual manner of his kind, had been
purchased by Jim for her behoof out of his little savings, soon after
he and Bill had fallen into good hands, namely, those of my sister
Millicent and brother Edward.
This occurred not long after the chicken episode. Milly had become
interested in the boys, whom she had encountered at one of the Moody
and Sankey meetings, whither they had come, not for purposes of
edification to themselves or others, but drawn, partly by their love of
music, and partly by the desire to make themselves obnoxious to more
decently disposed worshippers. But Milly, by her gentle tact, had
disarmed them,--they being our near neighbors at the service,--and,
profiting by this love of sweet sounds, had brought them within her
influence; nor ceased her missionary efforts on their behalf until,
with the aid of brother Edward, and the consent and co-operation of our
parents, she had established them both as servants in the family, where
they had opportunity and encouragement to fit themselves for decent and
useful lives.
But their rise in life had not caused Bill and Jim to forget their less
fortunate little friends and _protégés_,--for Bill, too, had in his way
been good to Tony and Matty, though he was not nearly so generous and
self-sacrificing as Jim,--and they made them sharers in their improved
circumstances so far as they were able. Jim had proposed that they also
should be taken into our household, and nursed and cared for; but, as
father and mother objected to having the house turned into a wholesale
reformatory and hospital, his modest plan was not carried out. Some
help, however, had been extended to the two cripples, who could have
been provided with good homes in some beneficent institution, could the
wretched mother have been induced to give them up; but, thinking
probably that they excited sympathy by which she could profit, she
refused to do so.
Ever since Jim had fallen upon happier times, it seemed that the boy's
whole nature had expanded, and he was constantly on the lookout, to use
his own language, "for a chance to do a make-up for all the good done
to me an' Bill." A certain ambitious and not unpraiseworthy pride, too,
and a strong sense of gratitude and obligation to those who were
befriending and helping them, particularly strong in Jim, were causing
both boys to make the most of the opportunities offered to them.
And now, it would seem, Jim was actuated by schemes of wholesale
benevolence for one, two, and four legged animals.
He had proved himself quite a hero during the last summer; had, through
the force of circumstances and appearances, fallen under unjust
suspicion, but had been absolutely and triumphantly cleared (the story
of which may be found in "Uncle Rutherford's Attic"); and had made
himself an object of considerable interest, not only to the members of
our own family, to whom he had shown great loyalty and fidelity under
severe temptation and trial, but also to outsiders who had known of the
story of his adventures. Hence, he had been made the recipient of
various tokens of this interest and appreciation, mostly of a pecuniary
nature, and he now felt himself to be quite a moneyed man.
With the generosity which was one of his characteristics,--perhaps the
most distinguishing one,--he scouted the idea of retaining the whole of
his small fortune for his own benefit, pressing a share of it upon
Bill, presenting our children and his fellow-servants with tokens of
his regard, mostly of a tawdry, seaside-bazaar nature, but beautiful in
their eyes and his own; conveying, with an eye to the future, another
portion to the care of brother Edward, to be used for "'lection
expenses" when the time should come for him to run for that dignity to
which he aspired; and now it appeared that he had other ends, of a
philanthropic nature, in view.
Old Captain Yorke, a veteran sailor, now retired from active service,
was our purveyor-general, going each morning in boat or wagon to the
nearest town, whence he brought for us and other families such supplies
as we ordered; the Point affording no facilities for marketing or daily
household needs. He was a great friend and crony of our two young
servant-lads, and to him as well as to Bill had Jim confided his plans;
but the three heads had proved unequal to the settlement of the
arithmetical difficulties which presented themselves, and Jim had
applied to Allie, as being possessed of greater educational advantages.
This had not proved equal to the situation, however, as has been seen;
the knowledge of eight years not being able to cope with this
mathematical problem.
Divested of Jim's complications, Bill's discursive remarks upon other
subjects, and put into rather more choice English than that in which
the latter delivered it, the plan amounted to this:--
Captain Yorke, heartily admiring, and willingly co-operating, was to
bring from the town a large quantity of peanuts, which Mrs. Yorke, also
full of sympathy, had promised to roast. The amount of peanuts
purchased was to be determined by the price per bag, but Jim's ideas
were of a wholesale nature; for my young brothers Norman and Douglas,
who both had a weakness for this vegetable, had also greatly encouraged
him in his undertaking, giving him not only hopes of great results from
the home-market, but promises that they would interest "the other
fellows," and induce them also to become customers. He was not to be
salesman himself, of course, his daily avocations not permitting of
this; but, for the rest of our stay at the seashore, he purposed
obtaining the services of an acquaintance who belonged in the place,
and who was in the habit of peddling about papers, periodicals, an
assortment of very inferior confectionery, and other small wares. The
proceeds of these sales made here at the seaside, deducting a
commission for the boy-vender, Jim hoped would suffice to start his
larger and more ambitious enterprise when we should return to the city.
This was to set up Tony and Matty Blair in business.
So far all was plain sailing, in anticipation; but now came the more
complicated part of the arrangement.
A stand was to be secured, a roaster, a fresh supply of peanuts, and
other necessary appliances purchased; and "our ladies," to wit, mother,
Milly, and myself, asked to provide the crippled young merchants with
warm clothing sufficient to protect them against exposure to the
elements.
There were so many "shares" to be provided for, shares of divers
proportions, and Jim's arithmetic was of such a very elementary nature,
that he soon found himself lost in a hopeless labyrinth of
calculations. With peanuts at so much by the wholesale, and so much at
retail, running-expenses, and so forth, on the one hand; what would be
the various amounts to be allowed from the proceeds, on the other, for
a "share" for Tony and Matty, another for return profits to Jim's own
pocket, and the third and larger for the establishment of the hospital
for crippled animals, the main object of the undertaking?
Now, if peanuts were so much per bag, and other needful appurtenances
so much more, how much profit might be realized, and what would be the
respective shares? Hardly had I solved this complicated problem to
Jim's satisfaction, and my own relief,--for, as I have said, numbers
were a weariness to my flesh, and the rule of three a burden to my
spirit,--when the boy remembered other claimants upon the fund.
"Miss Amy," he said, "didn't I forget. There's Rosie ought to have a
share for savin' me out the Smuggler's Hole; she _must_ have a share,
for sure; an' there's Captain Yorke, he ought to have some, too. Please
do it all over again, Miss Amy, takin' out their shares."
This was too much, however, and despite Jim's reproachful appeals to my
superior learning, I flatly refused to "do up" any more sums on his
behalf.
And now, happily, a diversion in my favor was effected, by the
appearance upon the scene of old Captain Yorke himself, who was seen
coming up the carriage-way, guiding before him a donkey-cart filled
with fish, while upon his arm he bore a basket of fruit, vegetables,
and so forth.
He was a character, this old, retired sea-captain,--a firm friend and
ally to all pertaining to the names of Livingstone, or Rutherford, or
to any belonging to those families, our factotum and standby; and,
moreover, an endless source of amusement to the mature part of the
household, and of unbounded admiration to the more juvenile portion. In
the eyes of our little girls, and indeed in those of my two younger
brothers, Norman and Douglas, and above all, in those of Jim and Bill,
he was a veritable hero, for his had been a hard and venturesome life,
full of thrilling adventure and hairbreadth escapes; and the children
never tired of listening to the narration of them. Nor, I am bound to
believe, did the old man depart from the ways of truth, or draw upon
his imagination, in narrating them. But I will let the garrulous old
veteran speak for himself, a thing which he was never loth to do.