Ella Clinton; or, By Their Fruits Ye Shall Know Them

by Martha Finley

  Produced by David Edwards, Chris Whitehead and the OnlineDistributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (Thisfile was produced from images generously made availableby The Internet Archive)

  "She suddenly perceived a dog at her dinner-basket."

  p. 13.]

  ELLA CLINTON,

  OR

  BY THEIR FRUITS YE SHALL KNOW THEM.

  BY MARTHA FARQUHARSON, AUTHOR OF "TRY," "LAME LETTY," "MYSIE'S WORK," &c.

  WRITTEN FOR THE BOARD OF PUBLICATION.

  PHILADELPHIA: PRESBYTERIAN BOARD OF PUBLICATION, No. 821 CHESTNUT STREET.

  Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1856, by JAMES DUNLAP, TREAS., In the Clerk's Office of the District Court for the Eastern District of Pennsylvania.

  _STEREOTYPED BY_ JESPER HARDING & SON, NO. 57 SOUTH THIRD STREET, PHILADELPHIA.

  ELLA CLINTON

  OR

  "BY THEIR FRUITS YE SHALL KNOW THEM."

  CHAPTER I.

  "Ella, you are the most provoking child that ever was born. You cannever let a thing alone, but must have your fingers in everything.You've no more idea of neatness than old Tabby; no, nor half so much.You come in from school, and bonnet goes here, and book there. It'sno use to talk to you, and one might run after you all day, and thencouldn't keep the house to rights. I declare, you're enough to try thepatience of Job!" So saying, Aunt Prudence set herself energeticallyto work, to put to rights the work-basket which poor Ella had mostunfortunately disarranged. "I should like to know," she continued,"what children were ever made for. I'm sure they're nothing but botherand trouble, from week's end to week's end."

  Poor Ella darted up stairs to her own room, and throwing herself uponthe bed, burst into a fit of passionate weeping.

  "I hate Aunt Prudence! I hate her, so I do! She's always scolding andslapping me. I wish _she_ was dead instead of mother. O mother, mother!why, O why, did you die and leave me? I can't be good without you. I dotry to be good, but Aunt Prudence always makes me naughty. I can't helphating her when she's so cross. O mother, mother! come back, come back!"

  Poor little Ella was an orphan; though she could remember a time whenshe had had a kind father and mother who loved her dearly, and triedto teach her to do what was right; but her father had been lost atsea, and her mother, who had never seemed well after she had heard ofthe loss of the vessel, had now been lying for nearly a year in thegraveyard of the little town where Aunt Prudence and Ella lived. Ellawas naturally a very warm-hearted, affectionate child, but careless,thoughtless and meddlesome; faults which, to Aunt Prudence, with herprecise ways and strict notions of propriety and neatness, seemed mostinexcusable. She really loved the desolate child who had been left toher care, but she had her own way of showing it. She was careful toprovide the little girl with all that she considered necessary for hercomfort, and, as she said, took a great deal of pains to teach herhabits of neatness and order; but Ella, even more than most children,needed "line upon line, and precept upon precept," and her aunt'spatience was apt to be soon exhausted. Ella's mother had always takena great deal of pains to correct her faults, but she was very patient;always talked with her about the folly and wickedness of her behaviour,and tried to make her see the reasonableness of her requirements; andwhen she punished her, she did it in such a way as to convince thechild that it was done for her good, and not because her mother was ina passion. But now, when Ella tore her frock, meddled with what didnot belong to her, or what she had been told not to touch, left herthings lying about the room, or did anything else that was naughty,Aunt Prudence would scold her in loud, angry tones, calling her "themost provoking, troublesome child that ever was born," or perhaps boxher ears, and send her out of the room. When her mother punished her,Ella had always felt sorry for her faults, and determined to try to dobetter, but Aunt Prudence's angry, impatient way was apt to rouse hernaturally quick temper, and sometimes she flew into a passion, whichonly served to convince her aunt that she really was a very wickedchild.

  Then when Ella, her passion over, would come full of penitence to heraunt's side, to put her arms round her neck, as she used to do to hermother, and say how sorry she was, aunt Prudence would push her fromher, saying, "Go away, Ella, I don't want such a wicked little girlnear me. You're the most ungrateful child that ever I saw. If it wasn'tfor me, you wouldn't have a roof to cover your head, nor a bite ofvictuals to put in your mouth, nor a rag to your back; for your fatherdidn't leave you a dollar, and yet whenever I try to do my duty, andmake a good girl of you, you fly into a most dreadful passion. No, justgo away out of my sight; I don't want any kisses from such a wickedchild!"

  Sometimes such treatment would cause a second fit of rage, andsometimes it sent her to her mother's grave, to throw herself upon itand weep as though her heart would break.

  We left Ella, this afternoon, crying by herself in her own little room.At first they were all angry tears; but, though a quick-tempered child,her passion never lasted very long. She had been accustomed to go toher mother with all her little troubles, and very bitterly did she feelthe loss of that dear friend, when in need of sympathy and kindness.Her present trouble made her long for her mother, and then as her angryfeelings subsided, she began to think of that mother's reproofs andinstructions. How often had she warned her of the great wickedness ofindulging her temper, and entreated her to try to govern it! How oftenshe had talked to her of the kindness of her aunt in taking her, apoor, friendless, penniless child into her house, and providing forher, and of the duty of obeying and trying to please her! Ella couldnot feel that her aunt was very kind, for she was always scoldingand punishing her, but still her conscience told her she had donevery wrong, and that she ought to obey and love her aunt, and as shethought of all this, she wept tears of real penitence, and made manyresolutions to behave better in future.

  "I will tell aunt Prudence I am sorry, and will try never to be sonaughty again; just as I used to tell mamma, my own dear mamma," saidshe to herself.

  "Ella!" called out the shrill, sharp voice of her aunt from the foot ofthe stairs, "Ella, come down here this _minute_, and get your supper.What in the world are you staying up there all this time in the coldfor? To catch a cold, and give me the trouble of nursing you through aspell of sickness, I suppose."

  Ella rose and went down into the dining room with the full intentionof acknowledging her faults, and asking forgiveness; but aunt Prudencelooked so cold and stern, that when she tried to speak, the wordsseemed to stick in her throat. The meal passed off in almost totalsilence, and Ella was glad when it was over. Her aunt spoke to her butonce, and then it was to scold her for spilling her tea.

  Ella cried herself to sleep that night thinking of her mother, and herfirst thought, on waking next morning, was that she was going to bevery good all day, and not make aunt Prudence scold her once. But alas,poor child! she forgot to pray for help to keep her good resolutions.It was late when she waked, and she dressed in great haste lest sheshould not be ready for breakfast, for which her aunt would certainlyhave punished her. She said her prayers, it is true, for she had beentoo well taught to think of omitting them altogether, but she hurriedthrough them with very little thought of what she was saying, so thatshe really did not pray at all, for "God is a spirit, and they thatworship him, must worship him in spirit, and in truth," and he will nothear nor answer the prayer which comes from the lips only.

  Children, if you wish to be kept from sin, to be enabled to perform theduties of the day in a proper manner, never dare to begin it withoutsincere prayer to God for his assistance; and Oh! wherever you are,at home, at school, in the street, at your st
udies, or at your play,remember that the eye of God is upon you, that he notices all yourwords and actions, and that you will have to give an account to him forall that you do and say, and for the manner in which you perform everyduty.

  Breakfast over, Ella prepared for school. Taking her satchel of books,and her dinner basket,--for the school was at some distance, and sheusually carried her dinner in cold weather,--and bidding her aunt goodmorning, she set off.

  It was the district school which Ella attended, and it was usuallytaught by a man in the winter and a lady in the summer. Mr. Burton wasthe name of the present teacher. He was not remarkable for patience,and was sometimes very severe. The school was nearly a quarter of amile from Ella's home. She walked along briskly enough, until she hadgone rather more than half way, but then having reached a pond wherethe children of the village were in the habit of skating and slidingin their play-hours, she said to herself, "It was only half-past eightwhen I started; I'm sure I might take time to slide a little while. Tobe sure Mr. Burton says we must never stop to play by the way, but thenI shall only stay a very few minutes, and if I get to school in time,it won't make any difference; so I'll just lay my books and my dinnerdown on this snow bank, and have a real good slide all by myself."

  Time flies very rapidly when children are playing, and while the restof Mr. Burton's pupils were entering the school-house in answer to thebell, Ella was taking just one more and one more slide across the pond.She was on the side opposite to the one where she had left her books,when she suddenly perceived a dog at her dinner basket. She made allthe haste she could, but he was too quick for her, and was off with thecontents of the basket before she reached the place. She chased him fora long distance, for she felt quite unwilling to lose her dinner, butat length he was quite out of sight, and she gave it up in despair.All out of breath with running, she returned to the spot where she hadleft her books, and picking them up, hurried on to school, for she nowbegan to be quite frightened at the thought that it must be long pastschool time, and thinking to shorten her walk by going across a field,she climbed the fence, but in doing so caught her dress and tore a longslit which she must stop to pin up, and that took her much longer thanit would have done to go by the road. She had at last almost reachedthe school-house, when she was met by two of the scholars who weregoing for water.

  "Has school commenced, girls?" asked Ella.

  "Yes! nearly an hour ago, I should think," said Sally Barnes. "How onearth did you come to be so late? You'll catch it, I can tell you; forthe master's got the headache this morning, and he's as cross as abear."

  Ella burst into tears. "Oh!" said she, "I just stopped a few minutes toplay on the ice, and then a dog ran away with my dinner, and I had torun after him. O dear! what shall I do? I wish I had come straight toschool."

  "Never mind, Ellie," said Mary Young, who was a very kind-hearted girl,and felt sorry to see her cry, "you can just tell him that your auntsent you on an errand, and you couldn't get back any sooner."

  "But that would be telling a lie, Mary, and I could never do that,"replied Ella, for with all her faults she was a perfectly truthfulchild. "My mother always told me it was a dreadful sin to say what wasnot true, and when she was dying she told me never, never to tell alie. Oh no, I wouldn't tell him that to keep him from killing me."

  "Oh, let her alone, Mary," said Sally, "if she fancies a whipping, I'msure she's welcome to it for all I care. But come along or we'll catchit too."

  "You had better take my advice, Ellie," said Mary, turning to go.

  Ella hung up her bonnet and cloak in the hall, entered the school room,and went to her seat as softly as possible, in hope that the teacherwould not notice her. Vain hope!

  "Ella Clinton!" he called out in his sternest tones, "come here to me."Trembling with fear she obeyed. "Do you know what time it is, miss?"said he, looking at his watch. "Ten minutes to ten; nearly an hour pastschool time. Where have you been?"

  Poor Ella caught at the desk for support. The room was so still thatthe ticking of the watch could be distinctly heard.

  All were waiting in breathless silence for her answer.

  "Speak!" thundered the master, "where have you been?"

  "I stopped to slide a little on the ice, and"--

  "You did, did you? I'll teach you to do that again. Hold out your handhere. I'll make an example of you. You needn't think you'll escape aflogging because you're a girl," and taking hold of her little tenderhand, he brought his heavy ruler down upon it again and again, untilthe palm was all blistered, and then sent her to her seat without oneword of commendation for having told the truth.

  "I say, Jim," whispered one boy to another, "that's what folks get fortelling the truth."

  "What are you whispering about there, sir?" called out the teacher.

  "I wasn't whispering; I was just saying, the lesson over to myself."

  "Well, sir, keep your eyes on the book when you move your lips, or Ishall flog you for whispering."

  "I'm not going to be such a fool as to tell on myself just to get alicking," muttered the boy, with his eyes fixed on the book.

  Poor Ella! everything seemed to go wrong with her that day. So muchtime had been lost, and her mind was so taken up with her troubles,that it seemed impossible to learn her lessons, and she failed in everyone; for which she was of course punished. She lost her place, and wasin disgrace all day. She would have been without her dinner also, ifsome of her kind-hearted schoolmates had not shared with her. Oh, howlong the day seemed! but it was over at last; school was dismissed, andElla walked slowly and sadly homeward, dreading the moment when auntPrudence should learn the sad accident which had befallen her dress.She was considering, as she walked along, what would be her wisestcourse of action, and remembering that her mother had often told her,if she would come and inform her immediately of an accident, withoutany attempt at concealment or deception, she would not punish her;she thought she would try that plan with her aunt. For once, Ellaremembered to put her hood and cloak, her satchel and dinner-basket, intheir places. She then entered the sitting-room, where Miss Prudencesat in her easy-chair beside the fire, stitching away industriouslyas usual. She looked up from her work as Ella opened the door, andexclaimed:--

  "Why, Ella Clinton! where have you been, and what have you been about,to get that great, long slit in your dress? Come here to me thisinstant, and tell me how you tore it."

  "I was just climbing a fence, aunt Prudence," sobbed the child, "and itcaught and tore."

  "Climbing a fence! and what were you doing that for, I'd like to know?Do you think I'm made of money, and have nothing to do with it but tospend it in buying dresses for you to tear up this way? You haven'tworn that dress three weeks, and just look at it now; nearly ruined.You're always climbing fences and trees. A perfect tom-boy you are,besides being the most careless, troublesome, ungrateful child I everlaid my eyes on. But I'll see if I can't put a stop to it. You shalljust sit down here, and darn that yourself, and do it well too, and nota mouthful of victuals shall you have until it's done; and you deservea good switching before you go to bed. Now just stop your crying, forI'll not have it."

  It was very late before Ella got her supper that night, for darning wasa new business to her, the rent was a very long one, aunt Prudence veryparticular, and she herself, after all the labours and troubles of theday, very weary, and fingers and eyes ached sadly, long before the taskwas accomplished.

  "It's no use to try to be good," sobbed the poor child to herself, asshe wet her pillow with her tears. "I did mean to be good to-day, butthe more I try, the more I can't. Oh, mother, mother, I can't be goodwithout you! I wish I was dead too, and I do believe aunt Prudencewishes I was. I don't believe she loves me at all, for she never kissesme, nor calls me her dear little girl, like you used to, and she'salways scolding me, and calling me bad and troublesome."

  Ella did not stop to play on the way, next morning, but went directlyto school; nor did she climb fences or trees again for some time,but still she was a
lmost always in disgrace, and continually gettingpunished, both at home and at school, for there was scarcely a daythat she did not fail in one or more of her lessons, or forget or losesomething; either her book, pen, pencil or ink.

  At last Mr. Burton called upon her aunt to complain of her carelessnessand indolence. "I can't help it, Mr. Burton," said aunt Prudence;"I've tried as hard as ever anybody could, to make her orderly andindustrious, but I can't do it. She's a very bad child I know, but Ican't help it. I'm sure I've done my duty. There's never a day passesover my head, that I don't give her a scolding or may be a whipping,but it don't seem to do a bit of good; indeed I believe she grows worseinstead of better. She's enough to try the patience of Job, as I oftentell her, and such an awful temper as she has got! you never saw anything like it. I used to think she was a tolerably good child while hermother was living, but there's no doing any thing with her lately. Themore I scold and punish her, the worse she seems to grow: I don't seethat she'll ever be good for any thing, but there's one comfort, I'vedone my duty by her."

  It was very true; Ella _was_ growing worse and worse. She mademany resolutions to do better, but try as hard as she might, auntPrudence never seemed to notice it; never gave her a word of praise orencouragement, and always found something to scold her for, and so thepoor child grew discouraged, and gave up trying. "It's no use to try tobe good, and please aunt Prudence," she would say to herself, "for shealways scolds me just the same. Mother used to smile, and tell me shewas glad to see me trying to do right, and then it seemed easier, butaunt Prudence never does, and I won't try to _please_ her any more."

  One morning Ella reached the school room unusually early; it stillwanted nearly an hour to school time, and there were but two otherscholars present. A few moments had been spent in talking together,when Ella, who had been walking about, looking into the desks,suddenly exclaimed, "Why Mr. Burton has left his desk unlocked! Ogirls, let's play school! I'll be teacher and have you for my scholars."

  The others assented. I have told you that one of Ella's faults was ahabit of meddling with other people's things.

  She now proceeded to take out Mr. Burton's inkstand, copper-platecopies, ruler, &c., and place them on the outside of the desk.

  "Oh! Ella!" exclaimed Rachel Frost, "aren't you afraid to touch Mr.Burton's things? Why he'll whip you like everything if he finds it out."

  "Oh, but he won't know it, Rachel, for I'll put them all back before hecomes, and I know you and Louisa won't tell."

  "No, of course we won't; but you'd better take care, or he may come inand catch you."

  "No danger," said Ella, "he never comes more than ten minutes beforeschool time." And secure in this confidence, she went on playingteacher until in bringing down the ruler upon the desk, in imitationof Mr. Burton when he would call out "Silence!" to the scholars, sheaccidentally hit the inkstand.

  The glass was shivered by the blow, and in an instant the black streamswere running over the desk, and the copies.

  Poor Ella was terribly frightened. "Oh! what shall I do? what shallI do?" she exclaimed, bursting into tears. "Oh! I wish I hadn't beenmeddling."

  Her schoolmates were very sorry for her, and did all they could to helpand comfort her, but the mischief could not be undone.

  They wiped up the ink, as well as they could, and replaced the rulerand the copies in the desk. When all this had been done, Louisa said,"Now come, girls, let's go off somewhere till school time, and Mr.Burton will never know who did it. He'll may be think it was JonasHand, because, you know, he always makes the fires and sweeps the room."

  "But I don't want him to think it was Jonas," said Ella, "it wouldn'tbe right for me to let Jonas be punished for what I did."

  "But," said Rachel, "I don't believe he will punish Jonas, becausehe'll tell him he didn't do it, and there's no need for Mr. Burtonever to know _who_ did it. The door is always left unlocked in themorning, and it might have been somebody who doesn't belong to theschool at all. So come along, Ellie, for if you are found here you'llbe suspected, and you'll not deny it I know, and I can't bear to seeyou whipped."

  Ella yielded, for she trembled with fright at the thought of Mr.Burton's wrath, when he should discover the mischief she had done.They walked away a short distance to a place, where they were out ofsight, but not out of hearing of the bell, and there they remaineduntil they heard it ring for school. Then hurrying in, along with theothers, they seated themselves and tried to look as though nothing hadhappened. Ella took out her book and seemed to be unusually intent uponher lesson; but though her eyes were fixed upon the page, the wordsconveyed no meaning to her mind; so much were her thoughts taken upwith the events of the morning.

  "Attention!" said Mr. Burton in a voice which made every scholar start;"some one has been at my desk meddling with its contents; a thing whichI have positively forbidden and shall severely punish. Can any of youtell me who it was?"

  "It wasn't me;" and "It wasn't me;" "I don't know anything about it;""I just now came in," answered one and another.

  "Silence!" exclaimed the teacher angrily, bringing his ruler down onthe desk with a loud crack. "I didn't ask who didn't do it, but who_did_. Jonas Hand, come forward here, sir, and you Mary Young, andSallie Barnes, and Henry Harris. You were the only scholars here whenI came, and it must be that you know who did this mischief." Theytremblingly obeyed, but each and all protested their own innocence, andtheir utter ignorance of the author of the mischief.

  "I say it _must_ have been _one_ of you," said Mr. Burton, "and thesooner you confess, the better it will be for you. Which of you didit?" There was no reply. Mr. Burton was growing pale with passion."Tell me instantly," said he, "which of you it was, or I shall let youknow that I'm not to be trifled with. Which of you got here first?"

  "We all came about the same time," said Mary Young, "Jonas and Harryhad just reached the gate, as Sallie and I came round the fence corner,and I think the mischief must have been done before that, sir, for I'msure it wasn't done afterwards."

  "You needn't expect me to believe that," said Mr. Burton; "I know verywell it was one of you four, and you've just entered into a conspiracyto shield the guilty one; but I'll fix you. You shall tell me instantlywhich of you did it, or I'll give every one of you such a flogging asyou never had before. Now I'll give you just three minutes to make upyour minds;" he added, taking out his watch.

  The room was still as death, save the tick, ticking of the watch, andan occasional sob from Sallie Barnes, who had covered her face withher apron, and was crying heartily. Mary Young stood with her headerect, her cheeks burning, and her eyes flashing with indignation.Jonas looked frightened and despairing, Harry indignant and defiant.Meantime a fierce struggle was going on in Ella's breast. Should shesit by and see others punished for what was her fault alone? or shouldshe expose herself to certain and severe chastisement by confessing herguilt? It was a hard choice. Her whole frame trembled with the violenceof her emotions. One instant she was ready to start up and confess herfault; the next, she trembled at the thought of the punishment whichwould be sure to follow.

  "The three minutes are up," said Mr. Burton, taking up his ruler, andcatching Jonas by the arm; "what have you to say for yourselves now?"

  "I didn't do it, sir, indeed I didn't; don't whip me," gasped poorJonas.

  "Who did then, you scoundrel?" exclaimed the teacher, at the same timestriking him with all his force, "who did it? answer me that."

  Ella could bear no more; she sprang from her seat, and the next instantshe was beside the angry man, saying, "Don't! Oh! don't whip him, Mr.Burton, I did it."

  "You did it, did you?" he exclaimed, as, pushing Jonas aside, he caughthold of her, and shook her violently. "Yes, I might have known it wasyou, the most meddlesome, troublesome scholar in the school; but I'llteach you how to meddle with _my_ things!"

  "Oh! I'll never do it again; indeed, _indeed_ I won't," said Ella.

  "No, I think you won't," sneered the angry man, "for I'll give you sucha dressing, as y
ou won't want again in a hurry."

  Never, in all her life, had Ella had such a terrible whipping. Itwas several weeks before she entirely recovered from its effects.Aunt Prudence was very angry indeed, when she heard an account of thematter.

  "Nobody," she said, "should abuse her brother's child so. She was bad,she knew, but that was no reason why she should be half killed. Shewould sue Mr. Burton for damages, and make him pay well for it, andElla should never go another step to that school while he taught it.She wasn't going to have her murdered, just for spilling a little ink.Mr. Burton isn't fit to teach!" she continued; "a man that can't governhis temper better than that, and treat children like human beings,instead of like brutes, isn't fit to have the control of them. For mypart, if I could have my way, he should be sent to the State's prison;it would only be too good for him. And you, Ella, you're the mostfoolish child that ever was seen! Why on earth couldn't you let theman's things alone? and when you had done the mischief, why need you goand tell on yourself? You'd a great deal better have let those greatboys and girls take the whipping, for they were a great deal betterable to bear it, and besides, it would have been divided amongst thefour of them."

  "But, aunt Prudence, it wouldn't have been right to let them bepunished for what _I_ did; and besides, poor Jonas gets so manybeatings at home from his drunken father, and Mary Young is always sokind to me. Oh! I couldn't _bear_ to see them whipped for what was myfault!"

  "Nonsense, child!" said aunt Prudence; but she turned her back to Ellaand wiped her eyes, and she was kinder to the poor, motherless childthat evening, than she had ever been before. She actually put her armsaround her, and kissed her.

  "O aunt Prudence!" exclaimed Ella, her face beaming with delight, "Icould almost thank Mr. Burton for whipping me so hard; it makes you sokind."

  "You're thankful for very small favours then, I think," said auntPrudence, getting up and going to the other side of the room to set achair in its place.