in that tree yonder," she said, pointing to a low-branching beech at a
little distance. "It was kind o' careless, I think. S'posing it had
rained!"
Astonishment kept me silent. How could I have forgotten, what I now so
clearly recalled, my hanging the shade upon a tree, the previous
afternoon, while I descended a ravine for flowers? I felt humiliated
in the presence of the poor little wronged and neglected child.
For many days after this the girl did not come to school, nor did I
once see her, though I thought of her daily with increasing interest.
During this time the principal of the school planned an excursion by
railroad to a station ten miles distant, to be succeeded by a picnic
on the lake shore. Great was the delight of the little ones, grown
weary of their unvaried routine through the exhausting heats of July.
Many were the councils called among the boys, many the enthusiastic
discussions held among the girls, and seldom did they break up without
leaving one or more subjects of controversy unsettled. But upon one
point perfect harmony of opinion prevailed, and it was the only one
against which I felt bound strongly to protest: this was the decision
that Mrs. Walker's Betsey was quite unnecessary to the party, and
consequently was to receive no notice.
"Why, Miss Burke! that _looking_ girl!" cried Amy Pease, as I
remonstrated. "She hasn't a thing fit to wear,--if there were no other
reason!" I reminded her that Betsey had a very decent basque, given
her by the minister's wife, and that an old lawn skirt of mine could
be tucked for her with very little trouble. "But she is such an
awkward, uncouth creature! She would mortify us to death!" interposed
Hattie Dale.
"She could carry no biscuits, nor cake, for she has no one to bake
them for her," said another. "She would eat enormously, and make
herself sick," objected little Nellie Day, a noted glutton.
In vain I combated these arguments, offering to take crackers and
lemons enough for her share, and even urging the humanity of allowing
her to make herself sick upon good things for once in her
poverty-stricken life. Some other teachers joined me; but when the
question was put to vote among the scholars, it received a hurried
negative, as unanimous as it was noisy.
"And now I think of it," added Mattie Price, the principal's daughter,
"the Walkers are out of the corporation, and so Betsey has no real
right among us at all." This ended the matter.
All the night previous to the great excursion, I suffered severely
from headache, which grew no better upon rising, and, as usual,
increased in violence as the sun mounted higher upon its cloudless
course. At half past nine, as the long train with its freight of
smiling and expectant little ones moved from the depot, I was lying in
a darkened room, with ice-bandages about my forehead, and my feverish
pillow saturated with camphor and hartshorn.
The disappointment in itself was not much. I needed rest, and the
utter stillness was very grateful to my overtasked nerves. Besides,
the slight put upon poor Betsey had destroyed much of the pleasure of
anticipation. I lay patiently until two o'clock, when, as I expected,
the pain abated. At five, I was entirely free, and feeling much in
need of a walk in the fresh air, which a slight shower had cooled and
purified.
Choosing the shaded route, I walked out upon the hill, ascending by a
gentle slope, and, book in hand, sat down under a tree, alternately
reading and gazing upon the sweet rural picture that lay before me.
Soon a pleasant languor crept over me. Dense wood and craggy hill,
green valley and gushing brook, faded from sight and hearing, and I
was asleep!
Probably half an hour elapsed before I opened my eyes and saw sitting
beside me the same elfish little figure I had once before encountered
in the wood. The same stringy hair, the same sunburned forehead and
neck, the same tattered dress, the same wild, weird-looking eyes. In
one hand she held my parasol, opened in a position to shade my face
from a slanting sunbeam; with a small bush in the other she was
protecting me from mosquitoes and other insect dangers.
"Well done, little Genius of the Wood; am I to be always indebted to
you for finding what I lose!" I said, jumping up and shaking my dress
free from leaves.
She laughed immoderately. "First you lose your shade in the woods,
and now you've gone and lost yourself! I guess you'll have to keep me
always," she giggled, trotting along beside me. "I was mighty scared
when I see you lying there, and the sun creeping round through the
trees, like a great red lion, going to spring at you and eat you up. I
thought you'd gone to the ride."
I explained the cause of my detention, and saw that she looked rather
pleased; for, as I soon drew from her, she had been bitterly
disappointed in the affair, and felt her rejection very keenly. She
had come to this spot now for the sole purpose of peeping from behind
some rock or tree at the return of the merry company, which would be
at six o'clock.
"I coaxed old Walker and his wife to let me have some green corn and
cucumbers, and I put on my best spencer and went to the depot this
morning, but none of 'em asked me to get in. Hal Price kicked my
basket over, too! I s'pose I wasn't dressed fine enough. They all wore
their Sunday things. I wish 't would rain and spile 'em. I do--_so_!"
I tried to console her, but she refused to listen, and went on with a
fierce tirade, enumerating sundry disastrous events which she "wished
would happen: she did _so_!" and giving vent to many very unchristian
but very childlike denunciations.
All on a sudden she stopped, and we simultaneously raised our heads
and listened. It was a deep, grinding, crashing sound, as of rocks
sliding over and past each other; then a crackling, as of roots and
branches twisted and wrenched from their places; then a jar, heavy and
terrible, that reverberated through the forest, making the earth quake
beneath our feet, and all the leafy branches tremble above us. We knew
it instantly; there had been a heavy fall of rock not far from us; and
with one exclamation, we started in the direction of the sound.
The place was reached in a moment; an enormous mass of rock and earth,
in which many small trees were growing, had fallen directly upon the
railroad track, and that too at a point where the stream wound
nearest, and its bank made a steep descent upon the other side.
Dreadful as the spectacle was to me through apprehension for the
coming train, I could only notice at that moment the wonderful change
in Mrs. Walker's Betsey. She leaped about among the rocks, shrieking
and wringing her hands; she grasped the uprooted trees, tugging wildly
at them till the veins swelled purple in her forehead, and her flying
hair looked as if every separate fibre writhed with horror. I had
imagined before what the aspect of that strange little face might be
in terror; now I saw it, and knew what a powerful nature lay hidden in
that cramped, undeveloped form.
This lasted but a moment, however. Then came to both the soberer
thought, What is to be done? It appeared that we were sole witnesses
of the accident; and though the crash might have been heard at the
village, who would think of a land slide? and upon the railroad!
Ten minutes must have elapsed before we could give the alarm, and in
less time than that the cars were due. In that speechless breathless
moment, before my duller ear perceived it, Betsey caught the sound of
the approaching train, deadened as it was by the hill that lay between
us. It was advancing at great speed; rushing on,--all that freight of
joyous human life,--rushing on to certain destruction, into the very
jaws of Death!
I was utterly paralyzed! Not so Mrs. Walker's Betsey.
"I'm agoin' to run and _yell_," she said, and was off upon the
instant. Screaming at the top of her voice, keeping near the edge of
the bank, where she could be soonest seen from the approaching train,
plunging through the underbrush, leaping over rocks, she dashed on to
meet the cars. "Fire! Fire! Murder! Stop thieves! Hollo the house!
Thieves! Mad dogs! Get out of the way, Old Dan Tucker!" were only a
few of the variations of her warning voice.
I followed as I could, seemingly in a sort of nightmare; wondering why
I did not scream, yet incapable of making a sound; expecting every
moment to fall upon the rocks, yet taking my steps with a sureness and
rapidity that astonished me even then.
Betsey's next move was to run back to me and tear my shawl from my
shoulders,--a light crape of a bright crimson color. Then bending down
a small sapling by throwing her whole weight upon it, she spread the
shawl upon its top and allowed it to rebound. She called me to shake
the tree, which I did vigorously. It stood at an angle of the road,
upon a bank which commanded a long view, and was a most appropriate
place to erect a signal. Then leaping upon the track, she bounded on
like a deer, shouting and gesticulating with redoubled energy now that
the train appeared in sight.
[Illustration]
It was soon evident that the engineer was neither blind nor deaf, for
the brakes were speedily applied, and the engine was reversed. Still
it dashed on at fearful velocity, and Betsey turned and ran back
toward the obstructed place in an agony of excitement. Gradually the
speed lessened, the wheels obeyed their checks, and when at last they
came to a full stop the cow-catcher was within four feet of the rock.
Many, seeing the danger, had already leaped off; many more, terrified,
and scarcely conscious of the real nature of the danger, crowded the
platforms, and pushed off those before them. It was a scene of wildest
confusion, in the midst of which my heart sent up only the quivering
cry of joy, "Saved, saved!" Betsey had climbed half-way up the bank,
and thrown herself exhausted upon the loose gravel, with her apron
drawn over her head. I picked my way down to the train to assist the
frightened children. Mr. Price, the principal, was handing out his own
three children, and teachers and pupils followed in swarms.
"Now, Miss Burke," said the principal, in a voice that grew strangely
tremulous as he looked at the frightful mass before him, "I want to
hear who it was that gave the alarm, and saved us from this hideous
fate. Was it you?" I believe I never felt a glow of truer pleasure
than then, as I answered quickly: "I had nothing to do with saving
you, Mr. Price. I take no credit in the matter. The person to whom
your thanks are due sits on the bank yonder,--Mrs. Walker's Betsey!"
Every eye wandered toward the crouching figure, who, with head closely
covered, appeared indifferent to everything. Mr. Price opened his
portemonnaie. "Here are ten dollars," he said, "which I wish you to
give the girl for myself and children. Tell her that, as a school, she
will hear from us again."
I went to Betsey's side, put the money in her hand, and tried to make
her uncover her face. But she resolutely refused to do more than peep
through one of the rents in her apron, as the whole school slowly and
singly defiled past her in the narrow space between the train and the
bank. A more crestfallen multitude I never saw, and the eyes that
ventured to look upon the prostrate figure as they passed within a few
feet of her had shame and contrition in their glances. Once only she
whispered, as a haughty-looking boy went past, "That's the boy that
kicked over my basket. I wish I'd 'a' let him gone to smash! I
do--_so_!"
The children climbed over the rocks and went to their homes sadder and
wiser for their lesson, and in twenty-four hours the track was again
free from all obstruction.
The principal, though a man but little inclined to look for the angel
side of such unprepossessing humanity as Mrs. Walker's Betsey, had too
strong a sense of justice, and too much gratitude for his children's
spared lives, not to make a very affecting appeal to the assembled
school on the day following. A vote to consider her a member of the
school, and entitled to all its privileges, met with no opposition;
and a card of thanks, drawn up in feeling terms, received the
signature of every pupil and teacher. A purse was next made up for her
by voluntary contributions, amounting to twenty dollars; and to this
were added a new suit, a quantity of books, and a handsome red shawl,
in which her brunette skin and nicely combed jetty hair appeared to
great advantage.
Betsey bore her honors meekly, and, no longer feeling that she was
regarded as an intruder, came regularly to school, learned rapidly,
and in her neat dress and improved manners gradually became an
attractive, as she certainly was a most intelligent child.
In less than a year her mother died, and her drunken step-father
removed to the far West, leaving her as a domestic in a worthy and
wealthy family in Cliff Spring.
The privileges of school were still granted her, and amid the
surroundings of comfort and refinement the change from Mrs. Walker's
Betsey to Lizzie Hamlin became still more apparent. She rapidly rose
from one class to another, and is now employed in the very school, and
teaches the youngest brothers and sisters of the very scholars who,
ten years ago, voted her a "nuisance" and a plague.
There is truth in the old rhyme,--
"It isn't all in bringing up,
Let men say what they will;
Neglect may dim a silver cup,--
It will be silver still!"
_Helen B. Bostwick._
THE RAINBOW-PILGRIMAGE.
[Illustration]
One summer afternoon, when I was about eight years of age, I was
standing at an eastern window, looking at a beautiful rainbow that,
bending from the sky, seemed to be losing itself in a thick, swampy
wood about a quarter of a mile distant. We had just had a
thunder-storm; but now the dark heavens had cleared up, a fresh breeze
was blowing from the south, the rose-bushes by the window were dashing
rain-drops against the panes, the robins were singing merrily from the
cherry-trees, and all was brighter and pleasanter than ever. It
happened that no one was in the room with me, then, but my brother
Rufus, who was just recovering from a severe illness, and was sitting,
propped up with pillows, in an easy-chair, looking out, with me, at
the rainbow.
"See, brother," I said, "it drops right down among the cedars, where
we go in the spring to find wintergreens!"
"Do you know, Gracie," said my brother, with a very serious face,
"that, if you should go to the end of the rainbow, you would find
there purses filled with money, and great pots of gold and silver?"
"Is it truly so?" I asked.
"Truly so," answered my brother, with a smile. Now, I was a
simple-hearted child who believed everything that was told me,
although I was again and again imposed upon; so, without another word,
I darted out of the door and set forth toward the wood. My brother
called after me as loudly as he was able, but I did not heed him. I
cared nothing for the wet grass, which was sadly drabbling my clean
frock; on and on I ran; I was so sure that I knew just where that
rainbow ended. I remember how glad and proud I was in my thoughts, and
what fine presents I promised to all my friends out of my great
riches.
So thinking, and laying delightful plans, almost before I knew it I
had reached the cedar-grove, and the end of the rainbow was not there!
But I saw it shining down among the trees a little farther off; so on
and on I struggled, through the thick bushes and over logs, till I
came within the sound of a stream which ran through the swamp. Then I
thought, "What if the rainbow should come down right into the middle
of that deep, muddy brook!" Ah! but I was frightened for my heavy pots
of gold and silver, and my purses of money. How should I ever find
them there? and what a time I should have getting them out! I reached
the bank of the stream, and "the end was not yet." But I could see it
a little way off on the other side. I crossed the creek on a fallen
tree, and still ran on, though my limbs seemed to give way, and my
side ached with fatigue. The woods grew thicker and darker, the ground
more wet and swampy, and I found, as many grown people had found
before me, that there was rather hard travelling in a journey after
riches. Suddenly I met in my way a large porcupine, who made himself
still larger when he saw me, as a cross cat raises its back and makes
tails at a dog. Fearing that he would shoot his sharp quills at me,
and hit me all over, I ran from him as fast as my tired feet would
carry me.
In my fright and hurry I forgot to keep my eye on the rainbow, as I
had done before; and when, at last, I remembered and looked for it, it
was nowhere in sight! It had quite faded away. When I saw that it was
indeed gone, I burst into tears; for I had lost all my treasures, and
had nothing to show for my pilgrimage but muddy feet and a wet and
torn frock. So I set out for home.
But I soon found that my troubles had only begun; I could not find my
way; I was lost. I could not tell which was east or west, north or
south, but wandered about here and there, crying and calling, though I
knew that no one could hear me.
All at once I heard voices shouting and hallooing; but, instead of
being rejoiced at this, I was frightened, fearing that the Indians
were upon me! I crawled under some bushes, by the side of a large log,
and lay perfectly still. I was wet, cold, scared,--altogether very
miserable indeed; yet, when the voices came near, I did not start up
and show myself.
At last I heard my own name called; but I remembered that Indians were
very cunning, and thought they might have found it out some way; so I
did not answer. Then came a voice near me, that sounded like that of
my eldest brother, who lived away from home, and whom I had not seen
for many months; but I dared not believe the voice was his. Soon some
one sprang up on to the log by which I lay, and stood there calling. I
could not see his face; I could only see the tips of his toes, but by
them I saw that he wore a nice pair of boots, and not moccasins. Yet I
remembered that some Indians dressed like white folks. I knew a young
chief who was quite a dandy; who not only
"Got him a coat and breeches,
And looked like a Christian man,"
but actually wore a fine ruffled shirt _outside of all_. So I still
kept quiet, till I heard shouted over me a pet name, which this
brother had given me. It was the funniest name in the world.
I knew that no Indian knew of the name, as it was a little family
secret; so I sprang up, and caught my brother about the ankles. I
hardly think that an Onondaga could have given a louder yell than he
gave then; and he jumped so that he fell off the log down by my side.
But nobody was hurt; and, after kissing me till he had kissed away all
my tears, he hoisted me on to his shoulder, called my other brothers,
who were hunting in different directions, and we all set out for
home.
I had been gone nearly three hours, and had wandered a number of
miles. My brother Joseph's coming and asking for me had first set them
to inquiring and searching me out.
When I went into the room where my brother Rufus sat, he said, "Why,
my poor little sister! I did not mean to send you off on such a
wild-goose chase to the end of the rainbow. I thought you would know I
was only quizzing you."
Then my eldest brother took me on his knee, and told me what the
rainbow really was: that it was only painted air, and did not rest on
the earth, so nobody could ever find the end; and that God had set it
in the cloud to remind him and us of his promise never again to drown
the world with a flood.
"O, I think _God's promise_ would be a beautiful name for the
rainbow!" I said.
"Yes," replied my mother, "but it tells us something more than that he
will not send great floods upon the earth,--it tells us of his
beautiful love always bending over us from the skies. And I trust that
when my little girl sets forth on a pilgrimage to find God's love, she
will be led by the rainbow of his promise through all the dark places
of this world to 'treasures laid up in heaven,' better, far better,
than silver or gold."
_Grace Greenwood._
[Illustration]
ON WHITE ISLAND.
[Illustration]
I well remember my first sight of White Island, where we took up our
abode on leaving the mainland. I was scarcely five years old; but from
the upper windows of our dwelling in Portsmouth I had been shown the
clustered masts of ships lying at the wharves along the Piscataqua
River, faintly outlined against the sky, and, baby as I was, even then
I was drawn with a vague longing seaward. How delightful was that
long, first sail to the Isles of Shoals! How pleasant the unaccustomed
sound of the incessant ripple against the boat-side, the sight of the
wide water and limitless sky, the warmth of the broad sunshine that
made us blink like young sandpipers as we sat in triumph, perched
among the household goods with which the little craft was laden! It
was at sunset that we were set ashore on that loneliest, lovely rock,
where the lighthouse looked down on us like some tall, black-capped
giant, and filled me with awe and wonder. At its base a few goats were
grouped on the rock, standing out dark against the red sky as I looked
up at them. The stars were beginning to twinkle; the wind blew cold,
charged with the sea's sweetness; the sound of many waters half
bewildered me. Some one began to light the lamps in the tower. Rich
red and golden, they swung round in mid-air; everything was strange
and fascinating and new. We entered the quaint little old stone
cottage that was for six years our home. How curious it seemed, with
its low, whitewashed ceiling, and deep window-seats, showing the great
thickness of the walls made to withstand the breakers, with whose
force we soon grew acquainted! A blissful home the little house became
to the children who entered it that quiet evening and slept for the
first time lulled by the murmur of the encircling sea. I do not think
a happier triad ever existed than we were, living in that profound
isolation. It takes so little to make a healthy child happy; and we
never wearied of our few resources. True, the winters seemed as long
as a whole year to our little minds, but they were pleasant,
nevertheless. Into the deep window-seats we climbed, and with pennies
(for which we had no other use) made round holes in the thick frost,
breathing on them till they were warm, and peeped out at the bright,
fierce, windy weather, watching the vessels scudding over the
intensely dark blue sea, all feather-white where the short waves broke
hissing in the cold, and the sea-fowl soaring aloft or tossing on the
water; or, in calmer days, we saw how the stealthy Star-Islander
paddled among the ledges, or lay for hours stretched on the wet
sea-weed, watching for wild-fowl with his gun. Sometimes the round
head of a seal moved about among the kelp covered rocks.