Bertie's Home; or, the Way to be Happy

by Madeline Leslie

  Produced by D. Alexander and the Online DistributedProofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file wasproduced from images generously made available by TheInternet Archive)

  THE WOODLAWN SERIES.

  Bertie's Home:

  OR,

  THE WAY TO BE HAPPY.

  BY MRS. MADELINE LESLIE.

  BOSTON: WOOLWORTH, AINSWORTH & COMPANY.

  NEW YORK: A. S. BARNES & COMPANY.

  Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1868, by

  A. R. BAKER,

  In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of Massachusetts.

  Mr. Curtis tying Duke. Vol. I., p. 93.]

  THE WOODLAWN SERIES.]

  BERTIE; OR, THE WOODLAWN SERIES.

  BY MRS. MADELINE LESLIE.

  16mo. 6 vols., Illustrated.

  I. BERTIE'S HOME.

  II. BERTIE AND THE CARPENTERS.

  III. BERTIE AND THE MASONS.

  IV. BERITE AND THE PLUMBERS.

  V. BERTIE AND THE PAINTERS.

  VI. BERTIE AND THE GARDENERS.

  TO

  HARRY, NELLIE, AND WILLIE SAMPSON;

  ALSO,

  To the Memory of their Deceased Brothers and Sister,

  BERTIE, FRANKEY AND EMMA,

  THESE LITTLE BOOKS ARE AFFECTIONATELY INSCRIBED.

  If the perusal prompt them and other readers to imitate the virtues ofour hero in his efforts to _be_ good, and to _do_ good, the wishes ofthe author will be realized.

  CONTENTS.

  CHAPTER I.

  THE RIDE, 11

  CHAPTER II.

  THE PURCHASE, 23

  CHAPTER III.

  WOODLAWN, 32

  CHAPTER IV.

  THE PLAN, 44

  CHAPTER V.

  THE DONKEY, 55

  CHAPTER VI.

  DRAGGING STONES, 64

  CHAPTER VII.

  THE BOY TEACHER, 77

  CHAPTER VIII.

  THE UNDERPINNING, 88

  CHAPTER IX.

  THE CELLAR, 90

  CHAPTER X.

  BERTIE AND WINNIE, 110

  CHAPTER XI.

  THE KIND BOY, 124

  CHAPTER XII.

  THE CROSS WORKMAN, 135

  CHAPTER XIII.

  THE NEW AVENUE, 148

  Bertie's Home.

  CHAPTER I.

  THE RIDE.

  When I was a child I used to glance at the first sentence in a new bookto see whether it looked interesting. If it began, "There was once aboy, who lived in a fine house," I was encouraged to go on.

  Now I wish to make these little books very interesting to my youngreaders. I want to have the words so simple that they can be read andnot skipped over, and at the same time my object is to give you usefulinformation. As you will learn, I am to tell you in these six volumesmany things about building a house, and to explain the different kindsof labor or trades which are necessary for such a purpose; but first Ishall introduce you to the family of Mr. Curtis, a gentleman who loveschildren and whom I am sure you will love before the book is finished.

  Quite a number of years ago, a carriage drawn by two dapple-gray horseswas passing slowly through the main street of a beautiful village, whichI shall call Oxford.

  There were five persons in it. On the front seat was a gentleman whosekeen, sparkling eye and laughing mouth always made people wish to learnmore of him. By his side were two children, Herbert and Winifred, or,as they were usually called, Bertie and Winnie.

  The back seat was occupied by Mrs. Curtis and her nurse. The lady wasjust recovering from a long and painful illness, and still looked verypale. She was supported by cushions, and sometimes as the carriagerolled slowly over the smooth gravelled road she fell asleep. But nowMrs. Curtis was wide awake, her eyes gazing through the large glass inthe side of the carriage at the beautiful prospect before them.

  "Oh, look at that lake!" she exclaimed; "isn't it lovely? See the woodedbanks, and that pretty green slope. I've dreamed of a home in just sucha spot."

  Mr. Curtis stopped the horses, and leaning from the carriage, gazed allabout him. It was indeed a lovely view. The village of Oxford wassituated in a valley sheltered on three sides by hills; and here in alittle cleft between them a small lake lay nestled, almost shut fromview by the thick trees which grew down close to the banks.

  As the gentleman gazed right and left, his eye at last rested on aslight elevation where the ground was more open, and from which it randown with a gentle slope to the water. The green here and there wasdotted with a fine spreading elm, or a huge oak, which looked as if theymight have weathered the storms of a hundred years.

  "What are you stopping so long for, papa?" asked Bertie, wondering athis father's unusual silence.

  He did not seem to hear the question, for he presently turned to hiswife and asked, smiling,--

  "Would you like a house on that hill, Cecilia? There, just beyond thecluster of chestnut trees, is the spot I should choose."

  "Oh, Lawrence! everything seems so quiet and peaceful in this neatvillage, a home there would be almost a paradise."

  After one more glance at the fresh greensward, where the summer sun wascasting such pleasant shadows under the grand old trees, Mr. Curtisspoke to the horses to go on, the road winding round the lake so thatexcept for the trees they could have seen it for half a mile.

  Presently he stopped a man at the side of the road, and asked,--

  "Is there a tavern in this village?"

  "No, sir," was the smiling reply; "there's little need of a tavern here,so far away from the world."

  "Is there any place where I could bait my horses and get a dinner formy family?"

  "Yes, sir; there's a farm-house a quarter of a mile back, wheretravellers sometimes stop. If they're not through dinner, they'll giveyou some and welcome."

  "Oh, sir," said Mrs. Curtis, "we couldn't think of intruding unless theywould allow us to pay them."

  The man walked on, after describing the house, laughing to himself.

  The house stood on the main street leading to the city, the villagersfinding ready access thereto by a stage-coach running twice a day.Everything about the farm looked neat and thriving. It was almost theonly house in the village which exhibited any pretensions to elegance.It had a bow window on the south side, and three Luthern windows in theroof. There was a garden filled with flowers, and at the side a road oravenue leading to the immense barns in the rear.

  Mr. Taylor's Farm-house. Vol. I. p. 20.]

  In answer to Mr. Curtis' knock, a young girl opened the door, andpresently called her mother to answer the question whether they couldput up there for an hour.

  "Walk right in," she answered, cordially; "dinner will be ready in a fewminutes. If you'll please, sir, to drive the horses round to the barn,one of our men will take care of them."

  Mrs. Curtis was soon resting on a sofa in a cool, pleasant parlor,inhaling the fragrance of the June roses, which came through the openwindow; the children were running about the farm-yard, almost wild withdelight, and nurse was following them, nearly as much pleased as theywere.

  CHAPTER II.

  THE PURCHASE.

  After dinner, which nurse brought from the table on a tray, Mrs. Curtisenjoyed an hour of refreshing sleep. When she awoke she found the blindscarefully closed to exclude the light; but she could hear the sound ofmany voices outside, and at last a tiny head, covered with auburncurls, peeped into the room.

  "Mamma, see what Winnie dot," exclaimed a happy voice as
she saw mammawas awake. "See pooty bird!"

  "It's a goslin," said mamma, taking the little yellow, downy ball fromher daughter's hand, "a darling little goslin; but it is crying 'peep,peep,' because it wants to be back with its mother. Where are papa andBertie?"

  "Papa done off with man. Dere Bertie," as his voice shouted "Winnie,"at the door.

  It was almost four o'clock before Mr. Curtis made his appearance, andhis wife, who had been chatting with Mrs. Taylor, the farmer's wife, hadbegun to wonder where he could be.

  "You're nice and cool here," he said, laying his hat on the table andwiping the drops of perspiration from his forehead.

  "You look very tired, Lawrence," she said, anxiously.

  He only laughed.

  "Isn't it time to start?" the lady asked.

  "The horses will be round directly; but, Cecilia, I want to ask you aquestion. Were you in earnest when you said you should like to live herein this quiet village?"

  She sighed. "Yes, Lawrence, I really meant that I should enjoy a homeaway from the bustle and confusion of a city; and that lovely lake isexactly what I have always connected with my visions of a country home.But why do you look so eager?"

  "Because, my dear, I have ascertained that I can purchase that spot onreasonable terms. In fact, everything is settled on condition that whenyou have taken a nearer view you like it."

  Mrs. Curtis clasped her hands as she exclaimed,--

  "Oh, Lawrence! what a kind husband you are!"

  "I have ascertained," he went on, smiling, "that the village is sohealthy no physician can be supported. There is one church and goodschools; though there is no hotel and not one dram-shop. I think weshall like it; and if you say you will try to be contented, I shallconclude the bargain at once and turn farmer."

  "Why, Lawrence, what do you know about such business?"

  "You forget, my dear, that I was born and brought up in the country."

  The next morning, when they left the farm-house, Mr. Curtis had agreedto buy sixty acres of land adjoining the lake, with a right to the useof the water for boating or fishing, or whatever else he pleased. He hadalso engaged board for the rest of the summer with the farmer's family,and promised to return in a fortnight. In the meantime, he intended tolook up the titles to his new land, and if it was all right, as heexpected, to proceed at once to build a new house.

  Mr. Curtis, ever since his marriage, had done business as a merchant ina large city. He owned ships which he sent out to foreign lands, and inthis way he had become very rich. After his wife's sickness, thephysician who attended her, told him that if she could live in somequiet, healthy, country village, her life would probably be lengthenedfor years.

  Mr. Curtis loved his wife so well that he would gladly give all hisships, his money lying at interest in the banks, and his warehousesfilled with goods, to keep her well; and this was what made him so readyto buy a place in the country.

  He was sure, too, that it would be much better for Bertie and Winifredto grow up surrounded by the beauties of nature; and he was also surethat if he and his wife had hearts to do good, they could find abundantopportunities for it in this beautiful village. On every account, then,he was pleased with his purchase, and drove away from Oxford with thehappiest anticipations of a long and useful life passed within itslimits.

  CHAPTER III.

  WOODLAWN.

  A few weeks under the care of good Mrs. Taylor, with Esther, therosy-cheeked daughter, to lead Bertie to and from the school which shetaught, did a great deal toward restoring vigor to the invalid. Everymorning she rode with her husband around the road by the lake, and fromthence through the bars across the fields to the site of their newhouse.

  They had named their place Woodlawn, on account of the beautiful oldtrees standing here and there on the greensward; and Mr. Curtis alreadyhad men at work making a solid road over which they could haul thelumber with their strong ox teams.

  After they had decided where the house should stand, the first thing tobe done was to make a plan of the building. Mr. Curtis sent to the cityfor an architect to come to Oxford and bring his book of plans withhim.

  Perhaps you don't know what an architect is, and I will explain the workthat he does. He is a man who draws upon paper a sketch of a house, orcottage, or church, or any kind of building.

  First, he shows how the outside will look, and where the windows anddoors will be placed. If there is to be a portico, or a wing, or abay-window, the picture shows you just how it will look and what theproportions will be.

  Then the architect draws a picture or plan of the first, second, andthird floors, if there are so many. He puts down the size of theparlors, and the halls, and the dining-room, and the kitchen. He placesclosets wherever he can find room for them, and plans for all theconveniences that you wish.

  Then he goes to the chambers, and arranges for the bath-room, and thedressing-rooms; or, if it is to be a plain, cheap house, he plans everyinch of room to the very best advantage.

  When all this is done, the architect begins to draw what is called aframing plan; that is, a plan for the carpenters to work from. This hasa picture of every stick of timber in the building; so that a goodbuilder can tell beforehand just how much the lumber will cost.

  But this is not all the architect has to do. It is his business to writedown what are called specifications.

  As this is a long word, I don't suppose Jamie, nor Josie, nor Catherinecan understand it any better than Herbert and Winnie did. If you weregoing to have a doll-house, and your papa should allow you to tell thecarpenter just how you would like it made, I suppose you would say:--

  "I want a window here and a door there; and I want a little mite of abell that the dollies who come to the front door can ring. And, oh, Imust have a little sink for my doll to wash her dishes! and of coursethere must be a pump to bring water with."

  While you were talking, the carpenter would take his pencil and writethis all down, and describe the materials to be used in the work, forfear he would forget some of the directions; and these would bespecifications, or the basis of your bargain with him.

  The architect for whom Mr. Curtis sent was Mr. Rand. He reached thefarm-house the second day after the letter was sent. When he came Mr.and Mrs. Curtis were ready at the depot with the carriage to take himto Woodlawn.

  "I am going to build a little nest for my birds," Mr. Curtis said,laughing, "and can't quite decide what shape will be best on this land.I want the house to look pretty from the village, for I intend to haveit set high where it can be seen through the trees. But the back partmust be pretty, too, for I shall have it look out upon a nice littlegrassy hill, with plants and shrubs in variety growing over it."

  "We shall see," answered the architect.

  Just as he spoke there was a turn in the road, and then they came insight of the beautiful lake.

  "Oh, how delightful!" the stranger exclaimed, "what an enchanting view.It reminds me of a picture I've seen somewhere of an English landscape."

  "That's what my wife says," answered Mr. Curtis, glancing in her facewith a smile.

  The architect said no more; but his companions saw that his keen eyenoticed everything.

  Presently they alighted from the carriage, and Mr. Curtis, giving hiswife his arm, began to explain where he intended his house to stand.

  "I settled upon another place at first," he said. "There you will seethe little stakes I drove into the ground, but my wife thought thisbetter; and as I yield to her in matters of taste I changed to thisspot."

  "This gives you a much better view," the architect remarked quietly.

  They walked here and there, two or three times. Mr. Rand took a rulefrom his pocket and measured the ground. Then he ran off by himself tothe top of the little hill, and stood looking over the lake. All thistime he had scarcely answered Mr. Curtis' questions. He was thinking. Atlast his face lighted up with a smile, and he exclaimed,--

  "I have it; just the thing. How would you like a stone house? You haveplent
y of material on your land."

  "A stone house is too damp," answered Mr. Curtis, shaking his head."No, I prefer a well-made wooden house with back plaster and tarredpaper to keep out the wind. I can use all my stone in building wallsaround my farm."

  "How much land is there?"

  "Sixty acres in this piece; and I have just purchased twenty more ofwood; for I mean to keep warm."

  CHAPTER IV.

  THE PLAN.

  It was now nearly time for dinner; and Mr. Curtis helped his wife intothe carriage; and they all rode away to Mr. Taylor's farm, where theyfound a nice dinner of roast lamb and fresh vegetables awaiting them.For dessert there was plenty of strawberries and sweet, thick cream,which the grown people as well as the children enjoyed very much.

  After dinner Mr. Rand opened a large book which Bertie thought lookedlike a big atlas; and then the stranger and papa and mamma gatheredaround the table to look at the plans of houses Mr. Rand had broughtwith him.

  First, there was a picture of a pretty cottage with a verandah runningaround it. Then came the plan of a barn, very pretty and picturesque;but Mr. Rand tumbled these over without any ceremony, saying,--

  "You must have something better than that;" and presently he came to thepicture of a large house with turrets and towers, which looked veryimposing.

  "There it is. That's the plan for you," the gentleman exclaimed, in anexultant tone.

  "What's the cost of that?" asked Mr. Curtis.