We had become somewhat accustomed to the storms, and, though this one
was terrific, and also followed by no interval of sunshine to break us
in for the wet weather, yet our condition was so greatly ameliorated, we
thought but little of it. Our house was waterproof even when the rain
came down like the sea itself pouring over us. The wind was furious, but
the nook we had selected was most sheltered, and, but for the uproar it
made among the trees, we should have hardly known the real extent of the
hurricane. Sometimes the thunder cracking over our heads awoke us in the
night, and we congregated together for companionship and comfort. In the
day-time we were very busy; I was inventing a spinning wheel; Schillie
and the girls concocting chessmen; the boys knocking up shelves, seats,
and boxes; the maids labouring through a perfect haycock of rent
clothes and damaged stockings; somebody always singing, and sometimes
that somebody was everybody. In the evening, Madame played, and
everybody danced for an hour by the light of one candle; when breathless
and tired, stories were told, each taking it in turn. A quick and
pleasant three weeks passed, for which we daily thanked the Giver of all
good.
When the sun shone once more our occupations were innumerable, leaving
us no leisure from early morn, until the darkness came. What with
gardening, lessons, manufacturing food and clothes, we had our hands
full. It was astonishing to see how active the young ones were in
turning everything to use; how quick and clever they became in all sorts
of ways that belonged more to older heads. It is true there were some
symptoms of fine ladyism that grumbled at washing clothes, grinding
sand, and cleaning up dirty dishes; the latter was carried to so great a
height that Zoe and Lilly came to me with a flat refusal to wash the
breakfast plates. "Why?" said I. "Because they are so dirty," said they.
"Very well," said I, "you need not do it." But they never objected again
to any work, for their dirty plates were put before them, without any
remark, each day, until they washed them of their own accord; and the
elder girls let slip no opportunity of commenting upon fine ladies, who
expressed great anxiety to help others, but must have the plates cleaned
before they could wash or wipe them, and supposed they must have people
to sweep the way before them, others to hand their food to their mouths.
In fact, the irony ran so high, and was felt so sorely, that a private
petition was sent in to have it stopped. This I was most glad to do, for
our meals had been rendered a little unpleasant by mortified tears
bedewing the face of the gentle Zoe, while indignant sobs and haughty
looks betokened the harassed feelings of the high-spirited Lilly.
As may be supposed, we had many conversations regarding our future fate,
and the probability of passing our days in this island.
_Mother._--"It is the idea which always makes me so anxious, Schillie,
to retain every possible memorial of our civilized life. Should our
children and their descendants remain on this island, they will live to
thank the Mother who worries you so with all the spinning, weaving, and
other inventions that tease you."
_Schillie._--"So you expect the children to marry, do you? Well, there
will be plenty of old maids left to keep up the civilized art of
scandal, seeing there are but two husbands for these six girls."
_Felix._--"Don't call me a husband, cousin Schillie, for I don't intend
to marry."
_Oscar._--"I don't mind marrying Gatty, because she will go out shooting
with me."
_Schillie._--"And what has set you against matrimony, you imp of
mischief?"
_Felix._--"Why I don't like being called grandfather, and so I won't
marry and have grandchildren."
This unfortunate announcement drew upon him the fate he wished to avoid,
and, spite of his indignation, and tears, "grandfather" became his
_sobriquet_ until they were tired of the joke.
But we renewed our conversation, and, though I used my best arguments,
and had Madame on my side, and though the battle waxed hot and loud, and
was oft renewed between us, I never could get Schillie to allow that it
was of the slightest use our thus exerting ourselves. This surprised me
a good deal, for she had so much plain good sense, and was so naturally
clever, and gifted with such brains for invention and concoction, that I
expected to find her the champion of my plans, instead of the damper she
proved. The hot and relaxing climate might have had some effect on her
constitution, or the good hope she always carried about with her that we
were not to remain here for ever, might make her reluctant to take
trouble for nothing.
But it proved always in the end, the more busy and interested we were in
our occupations the quicker time went, and less of it was spent in those
vain regrets and idle wishes that left wounds on the heart which nothing
could heal.
In justice, I must say, when fairly roused, none worked so hard or so
well and the little workpeople had to look sharply about them when she
was in superintendence.
She was in a cross mood one day, when she discovered me writing.
_Schillie._--"What can you be doing, June?"
_Mother_ (hesitating a little).--"I am writing a journal."
_Schillie._--"Now, pray, tell me for what purpose."
_Mother._--"It will be interesting to us to recur to some day; or it
will serve to enlighten our own descendants, should we never leave this
place."
_Schillie._--"Well, I could not think you would be so absurd. Who wants
to recall this horrible time; or what possible interest can you put into
the details of such a life as ours."
_Mother._--"I grant it's very difficult, but you are at liberty to look
at it."
_Schillie_ (reading).--"Ha! a thunderstorm (very interesting). Another
(truly pathetic). Felix ill (the dear pet, how sorry his grandchildren
will be to hear it). Gatty in mischief (when is she ever out of it?)
Schillie worked the most of all (and what has she got to do besides?)
Very merry tea (what a fib, when we have had no tea this month). Sybil
so amiable (yes, quite mawkishly so). Our dear captain (good me! what a
monody). The good Smart (perfect epitaphs over them all, pity they are
not in rhyme). Well, June, of all the nonsense I ever read your journal
seems the crown thereof."
_Mother._--"I don't pretend to write anything amusing, for how can I
with so few incidents; only I wished to keep a sort of journal."
_Schillie._--"It seems to me nothing but about the children, how they
were naughty and how they got good again. Why don't you write the
geological structure of the island, the botanical history, and a whole
account of the birds and beasts."
_Mother._--"That I leave for your abler head and pen."
_Schillie._--"Then it will never be done. I hate the place so much, I
would not record a single thing about it."
_Mother._--"If that is the case, leave my poor journal alone. I grant it
is everything you say, dull, stupid, and monotonous, nevertheless, I
have a fancy to keep it."
_Schillie._--"Then, pray, indulge your fancy, and, in addition to
keeping your journal, keep it locked up, for it is quite enough to
endure all the children's twaddle, without writing it down."
My spinning-wheel answered remarkably well; but all my spinning was of
little avail, as we had no idea of weaving. Schillie promised if she was
not bothered by having to build more houses, she would try her hand at
inventing a weaving machine the next rainy season. Luckily my yarn or
thread was as coarse as needs be, and answered very well for crocheting
and knitting. In both these arts we became wonderfully skilful; sewed
crochet boots and shoes, while others knitted petticoats and jackets, so
that we were in no particular fear that when our present clothes failed
we should become a tribe of white savages. The children grew like the
vegetation, and Gatty stalked over the ground like a young Patagonian.
We had no lack of food, though we had neither beef or mutton, but
poultry, birds, fish, eggs, and turtle, with innumerable vegetables and
fruits, were surely enough for our simple party. In the midst of our
many avocations, sighs and tears would arise for those we loved; neither
could the the affection we bore each other, and the peaceful, useful,
and happy lives we led, obliterate from our minds all we had lost. It
was no uncommon thing, especially on Sunday, for us to collect round a
favourite tree, and talk of and picture to ourselves what was passing at
each home. In remembering the simple stedfast faith of my Father, the
hopeful, sweet, loving nature of my Mother, I could not but think that
through their virtues we might hope for a restoration to home. As the
sins of the parents are visited on the children, so are their virtues
means of showering blessings to the third and fourth generation. Was it
possible that we were to be finally severed from the world for ever? all
the comforts of civilized life fresh in our minds and thoughts. And here
I sometimes paused, thinking to myself should we be restored in a few
years, in what sort of state and condition should I deliver up each of
my precious charges to their parents. I could not disguise from myself
that their present mode of life was not suited for the highly-bred and
polished youth of the nineteenth century. Madame, I must say, whatever
employment they were about, from cutting down a tree to washing and
peeling potatoes, never failed to inculcate a ladylike way of doing
either employment, and spared no pains to make them as accomplished and
graceful as our limited means afforded her.
Sybil was naturally so feminine and elegant that no rough work could
spoil her. Serena had a bounding springing freedom of action that
befitted a graceful young savage, and was too healthful and pretty to
make any act one not suiting to her; while that dear young leviathan,
Gatty, could have been graceful nowhere, though beaming with health and
strength; how she did grow, and how she found out she was stronger than
the little Mother, and how she teased her in consequence, enticing her
upon little shelves of rock, under pretence of having discovered a new
plant, and then keeping her there, though I might be calling for my lost
companion until I was hoarse. Mischievous Gatty, and yet good and loving
as she was mischievous. Serena managed her admirably, and could make her
do whatever she liked; and it was pretty to see the sylph-like girl
holding the great strong powerful Gatty in awe, lecturing her in a
gentle, grave, simple way, with a sweet low voice, that murmured like a
stream. Sybil might talk of duty, and "you ought" and "you ought not,"
until her fair face was flushed with talking, but she either found
herself showered over with insects, or laid gently on the greensward, or
swung up into a branch of a tree, from which she feared to jump down. No
mercy had Gatty upon the gentle soft Sybil. The only one among the
children who did not seem happy was Oscar. He had no boy of his own age
to associate with in boyish pastimes; he was brought prematurely
forward, from being the eldest male of our company; he had been
passionately attached to his home, and he could bear no allusion to it,
or the probability of not seeing it again, without being seriously
unhappy for the day. Fond as they were of each other, his brother was
too young to enter into the feelings that were unnaturally old, because
forced on him.
If Schillie and Gatty devoted themselves to him for a day, he seemed
more happy, but he loved to mope about by himself with his gun; and
while he grew tall and strong, his face was pale, and his brow
thoughtful beyond his years. Many were my anxious thoughts about him,
and I lamented a thousand times having suffered Smart to leave, for he
would at all events have been some sort of companion to him. Of all our
party, he certainly was the only one who invariably remained grave and
quiet, whatever might be the pleasantries in which we indulged.
Madame talked for an hour upon the dreadful fact of having no new music
for the girls, and used the same phrases and words concerning there
being no shop to buy a new cap as she did to the anxieties we had
endured and the fears that others must be enduring for us.
Her horror at having no chemist near to make up her tonic mixture
equalled the horror she felt at what had become of our companions, or
seeing the girls do anything inconsistent to her notions as befitting
young ladies caused her as dreadful a shock as the thunder. She was
afflicted with fits of dying perpetually, which we remedied the best way
we could, generally finding out that a long confidential talk about her
sorrows, making her will, and confiding her last wishes to us, restored
her as soon as any other recipe. But she was so good, and so fond of the
children, that Madame had but to speak to have us all her messengers;
even Schillie succumbed to her when the dying fit came on, matter of
fact as she was, and scolding me as she did for giving in to it. I had
exhausted all my efforts at consolation in one fit, and sent in Schillie
to take my place.
"Well, Madame," began Schillie, in a great, stout, hearty,
anti-invalidish voice, "better, of course, you are, I see."
_Madame_ (in a faint whisper).--"Ah, my dear Madam, my dear kind friend,
I may say now I am going to leave you."
_The great Voice._--"I am proud to be your friend always, Madame, but
it's all nonsense talking of leaving us. Why you look as well and
rosy----"
_Madame_ (a little hysterical).--"Fever, dear Mrs. E., all fever; my
poor frame cannot support this long."
_The Voice._--"Fever, is it? Let me count your pulse. Very good pulse,
rather weak I should say. Take a glass of port wine and you will be all
right."
_Madame._--"Dear friend, your robust frame knows not what it is to
suffer. Ah, the agonies I endure, the insupportable suffering!"
_Schillie_ (a little softer).--"Rheumatism, I dare say; I have it
sometimes in my knees, and it is very aggravating."
_Madame._--"Alas, alas, would that it were; but I must not lose my
precious moments, I must try to speak while I am able."
_Schillie._--"Don't hurry, don't hurry, dear Madame. I have nothing to
do at present, I can wait as long as you like."
_Madame._--"Dear Mrs. E., thanks, but it is I, it is my time that is so
short."
_Schillie._--"Oh, come, come, that's all nonsense. I see no symptoms of
dying about you. Indeed you look better than I have seen you for ages."
_Madame._--"It's all deception. My time has come, dear friend, and to
you I wish to confide my last wishes."
_Schillie._--"But I never can keep a secret. Don't confide anything to
me."
_Madame._--"They are not secrets. I only wish to confide my beloved
little ones to your care after I am gone."
_Schillie._--"But I hate children, Madame. June will take care of them."
_Madame._--"Ah, I know she will; but she is so fond, so tender a Mother,
she sees no faults in them. There is my darling Sybil, she is certainly,
if a human being can be, faultless."
_Schillie._--"She is a very good soul in her way, Madame, but shockingly
untidy."
_Madame._--"But her lovely smile, her sweet engaging manners. My Serena
is something like her, but, being so much with Gertrude, she is a little
less ladylike in manners than I could wish. Could you, dear Mrs. E.,
just hint to her when I am gone----"
_Schillie._--"Oh, good lack! no, Madame, I can hint nothing. I'll tell
her you thought her unladylike if you wish; but I think both she and
Gatty are first-rate Girls. They are afraid of nothing, and your
pattern, Sybil, jumps at a spider."
_Madame._--"Dear angel! I must go on. My lovely Zoe will certainly have
a poke if she is not watched."
_Schillie._--"I'll poke her up always, Madame, I promise you, for your
sake."
_Madame._--"Thank you, thank you, and my pretty Winifred. Have you not
observed how she turns in her right foot?"
_Schillie._--"No indeed, Madame, I never observed either right or left
foot, but I'll look out, if I remember, for the future."
_Madame._--"Thanks, dear friend, I think that is all about my darlings,
save Lilly's eyes."
_Schillie._--"They are very good eyes, Madame, and neither poke or turn
in, which would be a squint I suppose."
_Madame._--"They are lovely eyes, of heaven's own blue, but she ruins
them by reading no much."
_Schillie._--"Well, I'll stop her reading. Anything more Madame?"
_Madame._--"Yes, I should like to be buried under trees near our
church."
_Schillie._--"Very well, I can safely promise that, as I suppose I shall
help to dig your grave myself."
Madame then wound up in such a pathetic manner that Schillie was obliged
to have recourse to her pocket handkerchief, and came blubbering out of
the room, muttering that though she believed she was only an old humbug
she would be very sorry if the old lady really died.
She was only just recovering this fit one very sultry day when we
carried her to the edge of the cliff to catch a breath of air if she
could. It was so extremely hot we could do nothing, and therefore lay
beside her, instead of leaving a little girl in attendance as usual. We
fancied something must be about to occur, for every breath seemed as if
drawing in hot air. I, with what Schillie called my usual fidgetiness,
was imagining horror upon horrors, when, suddenly looking at the sea, we
beheld it rise and fall as if one tremendous wave passed over it. Almost
immediately the whole island seemed to tremble under our feet, a
rumbling and at the same time crashing sound quite surrounded us. "An
earthquake," cried some, while all sprang to their feet. A breathless
silence ensued, but all nature seemed as if nothing had occurred. "The
house," said Schillie. "The boys!" I exclaimed. We flew down headlong
towards the rocks from which they usually fished. Not a trace of them or
the rocks, the sea was boiling beyond what we had never seen covered
before. I sat stupidly down on the sands, as if waiting for the waves
to cast my sons up at my feet.
"They may not have been fishing," said Schillie. I did not heed her
until the sharp cry of a child in pain struck on my ear. We rushed
towards the place, and found Oscar supporting his brother, who was
screaming violently. They were alive; all other things seemed to me as
nothing. As I took him in my arms, Oscar told me that, finding the fish
would not bite, and feeling excessively tired, they had agreed to go to
a shady ledge on the rocks, and sleep for an hour. He was awakened by a
strange noise, as well as being thrown rather violently from the place
where he lay; opening his eyes, he beheld Felix some feet below him,
lying apparently dead. He ran and picked him up, and throwing some water
on his face from the brook near which they had lain down, in the course
of some minutes he opened his eyes and knew his brother, but on moving
he shrieked with pain. Oscar wrung his hands, and cried as he said, "Oh,
Mother, Mother, what is the matter, will he die? Who has hurt him? What
has happened? Oh my brother, my brother, I should die for my Felix." The
sight of Oscar's distress caused a cessation in Felix's screams. He put
out one little hand, and said, "Don't cry, Otty, I'll bear it, only
don't cry so." "Bear what, my darling," said I, "where are you hurt?" "I
am hurted all about, Mama; but is it a snake that has eaten me, or who
killed me? I'll be a man, dear Otty. I'll not scream any more, if you
will only not cry so, because I shall cry, I know I shall, I must cry
just a little, but it is not the pain." As he tried thus to comfort his
brother, the colour fled from his cheeks, his eyes closed, the rosy lips
paled, he fell back in my arms motionless. I thought he was dead, but he
was in my arms, the wild waves had him not for their prey; could it be
possible that I felt comforted as I clasped him closer? Wine was
brought, water poured on his face; and, as we laid him on the sward, his
right arm fell in an unnatural position. It was broken. Stripping off
his clothes, and carefully examining, we found him bruised in various
places, but no other bones injured save the collar bone. Schillie set
both arm and collar bone. We bandaged them as well as we could, and then
carefully carrying him to the old tent place, we did our best to restore
him to consciousness. In this we succeeded; and, though for many days he
lay in a dangerous fever, once that was subdued he grew well
astonishingly fast. The arm reunited perfectly, but the collar bone
retains a lump on it to this day.
The first symptom he gave us of returning health and strength was in a
conversation he had with his beloved Jenny, who was so occupied in
nursing him her attentions to us were of the most scanty kind. Imagine a
little figure, clothed in a little white gown, his arm and shoulder
bandaged up, lying on a lot of cushions. The smallest little white face
peeped out from a mass of hair, and a little brown monkey, with a face
about the same size, watches the different clouds of restlessness or
pleasure that passed over the little white face with a curious mixture
of wonder and curiosity. Jenny appears with a dish and exposes it to
view. The little invalid, with a lordly air, surveys his dinner.
_Felix._--"A nasty chicken again, Jenny."
_Jenny._--"Oh, Sir, I have roasted it to a turn, and here is egg sauce."
_Felix._--"Then give me the egg sauce, and you may have the chicken. I
wish chickens were never invented."
_Jenny._--"Would you like a duck, Sir?"
_Felix._--"No, duck is nastier. I want a mutton chop, Jenny."
_Jenny._--"But I have not got one, Sir."
_Felix._--"Then a beefsteak."
_Jenny._--"Indeed, I wish I could get one for you, Sir."
_Felix._--"Well, I don't mind, just for once, eating some boiled leg of
mutton."
_Jenny._--"Oh, my darling, then you must want mutton very bad, and you
know there is not such a thing on the island."
_Felix._--"Then it's a bad place, and I wish we were away, having
nothing but chickens and chickens, ducks and ducks, until we shall all
crow and quack."
_Jenny._--"Oh, don't, Sir, don't go for to move, and get in such a
passion, you'll displace the bones, and make your Mama so unhappy."
_Felix._--"I am sure nobody is so unhappy as me; and as for your
chicken, there----"
And with a kick of the little impudent foot away went the chicken out of
its dish into Jenny's face, who forgave her darling on the spot; nay,
even came to us for congratulations on his recovery. "For," says she,
"he is as impudent as ever he was when well, and is that not a good
sign, Ma'am."
_Schillie._--"Wash the remains of the chicken off your face, Jenny, and
then I'll tell you my opinion."