CHAPTER SEVENTH.
"But this I say, he which soweth sparingly shall reap also sparingly; and he which soweth bountifully shall reap also bountifully."
--2 COR. ix. 6.
All the children, Gertrude excepted, were gathered on the front porch, Viwith the dead bird in her hands, when the carriage drove up with thereturning travelers.
There was a glad chorus of welcome, and most of the young faces werebright and happy. Elsie's troop had nothing but smiles, caresses andloving words for her, and tender, anxious inquiries about "Sister Elsie;if the tooth were out?" "if the dentist hurt her much?"
"It was hard to bear," she said, "but the doctor was very kind, and triednot to hurt her. And, oh, mamma had made her such a lovely present, forbeing brave and willing to have her tooth out." And she took a beautifullittle gold watch and chain from her bosom, and held them up to theiradmiring gaze.
"Oh, I'm so glad, so glad! Dear mamma, how good of you!" cried Vi, withouta touch of envy embracing first her sister, and then her mother.
Eddie and the two younger ones seemed equally pleased, and "sister Elsie"allowed each in turn to closely inspect, her treasure.
In the meantime, Mr. and Mrs. Ross had been busy bestowing caresses andsmall gifts upon their children, who received them with noisy glee mingledwith some reproaches because they had been left at home.
"Come, come, no complaints," said their father; "I think you have faredwell;--a holiday, a picnic, and these pretty presents. Where's Gertrude?"
"Sure enough, where is she?" asked Lucy, looking round from one toanother.
"She's mad because you did not take her along," remarked Harry, "she saysyou didn't keep your promise."
"Dear me, I'd forgotten all about it!" exclaimed Mrs. Ross. "I should havetaken her though, but there wasn't time to get her up and dressed."
"Gertrude! Gertrude!" called Mr. Ross, in tones of authority, "Gertrude,come here and show yourself."
At that the child came slowly out from the hall--whence she had beenwatching the scene through the crack behind the door--looking red andangry.
"What's the matter with you?" asked her father, with some displeasure inhis tones.
"Nothing, I'm not crying."
"Nor pouting either, I suppose? What's it all about."
"Mamma promised to take me along the next time she went to the city."
"Perhaps she will the next time."
"But this was the next time, because she promised it when she went beforeand took Kate."
"Well, such promises are always conditional; she took no one this time(but me), and there was a good reason why."
Gertrude smiled slightly, then laughed outright, as she glanced up intohis face, saying, "I thought it was you, papa, that took mamma."
"Oh! now, you begin to look something like the little girl I'm used tohearing called Gertrude Ross; the one I like to buy presents for; theother one that was here just a moment ago, gets nothing bought with mymoney."
"See here," said her mother, and with a cry of delight Gertrude sprangforward and caught from her hand a watch and chain very nearly thecounterparts of those little Elsie was displaying to her sister andbrothers.
"Oh, joy, joy!" she cried, dancing up and down, "thank you, mamma! Thankyou, papa! I'd rather have this than a dozen visits to New York. See,Kate, isn't it a beauty?"
"Yes," returned her sister sullenly; "but I don't see why you should havea watch and I only this ring; you're hardly more than a year older than Iam and not a bit better girl"
"Come, come, don't pout, Kitty," said her father, stroking her hair;"your time will come. Harry's and Archie's too, and even little Sophie's,"he added, catching the household pet up in his arms, to give her a hug andkiss.
It was not until after tea that Mr. Ross missed his dog. "Where's Ranger?"he asked of one of the servants.
"Dade, sir, I don't know," she answered. "Sure he went to the picnic widthe rest of the childer, an' it's meself as hasn't seen him since."
"Harry," stepping out on the porch where the children, except the verylittle ones, who had already been sent up to bed, were sitting listlesslyabout, too weary with the day's sports to care for anymore activeamusement, "where's Ranger?"
"Ranger?" cried Harry with a start, "why sure enough, I haven't seen himsince he came home! and I don't think he came with us either."
"No, he didn't," said several young voices.
"I wonder where he can be," pursued Harry. "Shall I go and look for him,papa?"
Mr. Ross was about to say yes, when his eye fell upon the face of hisyoungest son who, he noticed, looked very red and somewhat troubled. "Whatdo you know about it, Archie?" he asked; "can you tell us what has becomeof Ranger?"
"He behaved very bad indeed, papa," stammered the boy; "he killed a dearlittle bird and tried to bite Vi, and me too--and I sold him."
The truth was out and Archie heaved a sigh of relief.
"Sold him?" repeated his father in a tone of mingled surprise anddispleasure.
"Yes, sir: to Jared Bates, for two cents. Here they are: I s'pose theybelong to you," said the little fellow tugging at his pocket.
"For two cents!" exclaimed Mr. Ross laughing in spite of himself. "You'llnever grow rich, my boy, making such bargains as that. But see here," headded, growing grave again, "whose dog was it?"
"I--I thought it was ours, papa."
"Ours? Yours to play with, but only mine to sell or give away. You'll haveto go to Jared to-morrow, return his two cents, and tell him the dog ismine, and you sold what did not belong to you."
"Oh where's my bird?" cried Violet, reminded of it by this little episode."I laid it down to look at Elsie's watch, and oh it's gone! Mamma, mamma,I'm so sorry!"
"I am too, dear, for your sake," the mother said, putting an arm about herand kissing the wet cheek, for the tears had begun to flow again. "Was itthe bird Ranger killed?"
"Yes, mamma, I was going to ask you to get it stuffed for me."
"Some cat has got it, no doubt," said Mr. Ross. "But don't cry: itcouldn't hurt it, you know, after it was dead."
"If it only had a heaven to go to," sobbed Vi
"Perhaps it has," said the gentleman kindly. "I really don't think,"turning to Mrs. Travilla, "that the Bible says anything to the contrary;it seems to me to simply leave the matter in doubt."
"I know," she answered thoughtfully, "that it is the generally acceptedbelief that there is no hereafter for the lower animals; yet it hasoccurred to me, too, that the Bible does not positively assert it; andsome of the poor creatures have such a suffering life in this world thatit makes my heart ache to think there is no other for them"
"Papa," asked Archie, "don't you think Ranger deserved to be sold forkilling that bird and trying to bite Vi?"
"That's a question you should have propounded before selling him, that andanother; 'May I sell him.'"
"I wish you'd let Phelim go and buy him back," remarked the boy, lookingvery uncomfortable at the thought of having to do the errand himself.
"No, sir," returned the father decidedly, "the mischief you have done youmust undo yourself. Ah, Harry, go and ask if any letters came to-day."
"I asked," said Gertrude. "There was just one; from Phil," and she drew itfrom her pocket and handed it to her father.
"What does he say?" Mrs. Ross inquired when he had glanced over it.
"Not much, except that he's to be here to-morrow, and wants the carriagesent to the depot for him," he answered, handing it to her.
"Good!" said Gertrude, with much satisfaction. "We always have more funwhen Phil's at home."
"Except when he picks a quarrel with you or some of us," remarked Harry.
"For shame, Hal!" said his mother. "The quarrels, if there are any, are aslikely to be begun by you, as any one else."
Lucy was proud and fond of her first-born, and always ready to shield himfrom blame. He was in his mother's eyes as the king, who could do nowrong, but to others a spoiled child, a wilful,
headstrong, domineeringboy.
Yet he was not without his good qualities, brave, frank, affectionate, andgenerous to a fault, many hearts besides those of his doting parents weredrawn to him in sincere affection; Elsie's among the rest; yet she dreadedexposing her little sons to Phil's influence; Edward especially as nearerPhil's age, and because, though much improved by good training, hisnatural disposition was very similar. But she had not seen Philip for twoyears, and hoped he might have changed for the better.
It seemed so at first. He was a bright, handsome youth, and came home infine spirits, and with a manner full of affection for parents, brothersand sisters. She did not wonder at Lucy's fond pride in her eldest son.
"Phil," said his mother, following him into his room that night, "you havemade a good impression, and I'm very anxious you shouldn't spoil it; so dotry to keep on your good behavior while the Travillas stay."
"I intend to, Mrs. Ross," he returned, with a laugh. Elsie, little Elsie'sbeen my little lady love since the first time my eyes lighted on her, andI know that if I want to secure the prize, I've got to keep on the rightside of her father and mother."
Lucy laughed. "You are beginning early, Phil," she said. "I advise you notto say a word of your hopes in their hearing, for ten years to come."
"Trust me for managing the thing, ma," he returned, nodding his headwisely. "But do you s'pose now, they'd be so outrageously unreasonable asto expect a fellow to be quite perfect?" he queried, striking a match andlighting a cigar.
"Phil! Phil! throw that away!" she said, trying to snatch it from him.
He sprang nimbly aside, "No, you don't, ma! Why shouldn't I smoke as wellas my father? Ministers smoke too, and lots of good people."
"But you're too young to begin yet, and I know your Aunt Elsie would behorrified. She'd think you a very fast boy and hurry away with herchildren, lest they should be contaminated by your bad example."
"Well," he answered, puffing away, "I'll not let her or them know I everindulge. I'll only smoke up here and at night, and the smell will be alloff my breath by morning."
"I wish you'd give it up entirely. Where did you ever learn it?"
"Comes natural; guess I inherited the taste. But nearly all the fellows atschool do it--on the sly."
"Ah, Phil, I'm afraid you're a sad fellow!" Lucy said, shaking her headreprovingly; but he could see the smile shining in her fond, admiringeyes, and lurking about the corners of her mouth.
"Oh, come now, ma, I'm not so bad; not the worst fellow in the world. Iwouldn't do a mean thing."
"No, of course not," she said, kissing him good-night, and leaving himwith a parting, "Don't forget to say your prayers, Phil."
Mr. and Mrs. Ross were not Christian parents; careful and solicitous aboutthe temporal welfare of their children, they gave little thought to theirspiritual needs. Lucy taught them, in their infancy, to say their prayersbefore lying down to rest at night, as they grew older sent them toSunday-school, took them to church on pleasant Sabbath mornings, when itwas convenient, and she felt inclined to go herself, and provided eachone with a copy of the Bible.
This was about the extent of the religious training they received; and itwas strongly counteracted by the worldly atmosphere of their home, theworldly example set them by their parents, and the worldly maxims andprecepts constantly instilled into their young minds.
From these, they learned to look upon the riches, honors and pleasures ofearth as the things to be most earnestly coveted, most worthy of untiringefforts to secure.
Life at the Crags was a strange puzzle to the Ion children: no blessingasked at the table, no gathering of the family morning or evening forprayer or praise or the reading of God's word.
"Mamma, what does it mean?" they asked; "why doesn't Uncle Ross do as papadoes?"
Elsie scarce knew how to answer them. "Don't let us talk about it, dears,"she said: "but whatever others may do, let us serve God ourselves and seekhis favor above everything else; for 'in his favor is life' and his lovingkindness is better than life."
Elsie's children Page 7
