XII.
“_HAPPY DELIGHTS._”
“Woof! woof! woof! woof!”
Was it possible Flossie knew who was in that pretty room where Maggieand Bessie had been snugly tucked away last night? Certain it is thatthese sounds, accompanied by a violent scratching at the door, as if hewere in a great hurry to have it opened, awakened our little sisters inthe morning.
“Why!” said Maggie, in great surprise, “if that don’t sound like--why,Janie!” as her eyes fell upon the smiling face of Jane, looking at herover the foot-board of her bed.
“Why, Janie!” repeated Bessie in her turn. “Who is barking?” she added,as a fresh burst of scratching, and “woof, woof”-ing, came from thedoor.
“Shall I open it and see?” asked Jane; and she opened the door, whenin rushed Flossie, who, jumping on the bed, went into an ecstasy ofdelight and welcome that fell little short of speaking. He wriggledand twisted and barked, and nearly wagged his tail off, and behavedaltogether as if he were half frantic. His little mistresses almostsmothered him; but he did not object, and put his cold nose in theirfaces, and wagged and wriggled harder than ever. Never was such adelighted little dog.
Before the children had time to ask any questions, Frankie came runningin, exclaiming,--
“Hi! Maddie and Bessie. Flossie and me and Janie found you. All thepeoples is downstairs to brekwis.”
Maggie was dismayed. All the people down to breakfast! and she hadmeant to be awake with the first streak of daylight. Frankie had to besqueezed and kissed of course; and then Jane and nurse were begged towash and dress them as fast as possible.
“Why, what’s that noise?” asked Bessie while nurse was busy with her.“It sounds just like the sea.”
“The wind is high this morning,” said nurse, who had had her orders.
“How much it sounds like my dear sea,” said Bessie, unsuspectingly, asshe glanced up at the window and saw the branches of the trees wavingabout in what was, as Mammy said, rather a high wind. “Can’t we havethe window open, so we could hear it plainer? I could most think it wasthe sea.”
“It’s cool this morning. Wait for open windows till you’re dressed anddownstairs,” said nurse.
Bessie said no more; but she kept turning her head and listening to thesound, which seemed to her to be distinct from that of the wind, andwhich sounded so very much like her beloved sea.
Meanwhile, Maggie was quite taken up with asking questions; hearinghow grandmamma, Aunt Annie, the boys, Jane, and Flossie, had come toNewport by last night’s boat, reaching there early in the morning,before she had been roused from that ridiculously long sleep. Nothingless than having the whole family beneath their hospitable roof, wouldsatisfy Colonel and Mrs. Rush; and they had contrived to carry theirpoint.
Maggie’s “heaps of happiness” were rising higher and higher. When theywere ready, Jane took them downstairs; but she led them by a backcorridor, and seemed to take pains to keep them away from windows anddoors which opened upon the outside of the house. Certainly she andnurse acted in a rather strange and “mysterious” manner that morning.But at last she had them safely at the door of the breakfast room,where she left them.
The whole party were still seated round the table, though the meal wasabout over when they entered; and they were going from one to another,offering kisses, smiles, and welcomes, when Bessie’s eyes fell throughthe open sash of a large bow-window, drawn there by that same sound shehad heard upstairs.
For an instant she stood speechless with astonishment and delight;then, stretching out her hands towards the window, with her whole facelighting up, she cried,--
“It is, it is, it is the very, very sea! my own true sea!”
Yes: there it was, the “true sea,” as she called it, or more properlythe seashore she loved so much. Her friends watched her for a momentwith smiling interest. They had expected to see her so pleased; and,wishing to be present when she first beheld it, Mrs. Rush had soarranged that she and Maggie should be on the other side of the houseon the first morning, and nurse and Jane had been told to keep them asmuch as possible from the sight and sound of the sea.
The Colonel rose, and, taking her hand, led her out upon the broadpiazza, where she might see the whole extent of land and water whichthe magnificent view afforded.
The house stood on very high ground, overlooking a cliff in front,which fell sheer down to the water. To the left, was a broad, sweepingcurve of beach, on which the waves were breaking; the long whiterollers, with their curling tops, following one another in grandprocession, and making beautiful and solemn music as their march wasended. Away to the right lay a wilder, but hardly a grander, scene.Here were great, rugged rocks, among and over which dashed and foamedthe waves, whose course they barred. Some were hidden beneath thesurface of the water, and the feathery foam which boiled and bubbledover their jagged faces, alone told where they lay. Beyond, and faraway, stretched the boundless ocean, the sea Bessie so loved; the whitecrests of its waves flashing and sparkling in the glorious sunshine ofthat bright morning; the blue and cloudless sky, overhead. And the hymnwhich the grand old king was sounding in Bessie’s ear, was still thatshe had so loved two summers ago, the chant of praise which bids allwho can hear, “remember our Father who made it.”
She stood holding the Colonel’s hand, gazing and listening, as thougheye and ear could not take their fill; breakfast was unheeded, and itwas not till grandmamma reproachfully asked if she was to be forgottenfor the sea, that Bessie could be persuaded to turn away.
Maggie, too, was delighted to be once more at the seashore; but shehad not the longing for it that Bessie had, and all places were aboutequally pleasant to her, provided she had those she loved with her.
But now May Bessie was brought, and even the sea was for the timeforgotten in the pleasure of seeing her and noticing how much she hadgrown and improved. When a little life is counted by months, two ofthese make a great difference, and it was as long as that since Maggieand Bessie had seen Mrs. Rush’s baby. She was a sweet, bright, littlething; and it might have been thought that she had seen the childrenevery day, so speedily did she make friends with them. Indeed, Bessiewas sure the baby recognized them, and intended to show she was glad tosee them; and no one cared to disturb this belief, in which she tookgreat satisfaction. It was funny to see the patronizing airs whichlittle Annie put on towards the younger baby, and the care which sheshowed for her. She called her “Dolly,” and seemed to think it hard andstrange that she was not allowed to pull and carry her about as shewould have done a real doll. Aunt Patty, who had taken a great fancy toMrs. Rush, had made several toys and pretty things for her baby’s use,and among them was a worsted doll, in all respects like the lost PeterBartholomew.
May Bessie had not the same objections to this gentleman that littleAnnie had to hers, but opened great eyes, and cooed and crowed at him;and altogether showed more pleasure in him than in any other playthingshe possessed. Not so Annie, when he was introduced to her.
“See here, baby. Who is this?” said Mrs. Bradford, wishing to see ifshe would recognize it, and she held up the doll before the eyes of herby no means gratified baby daughter.
The pet drew up her rose-bud of a mouth into the most comicalexpression of astonishment and disgust at the sight of the old objectof her dislike; for, as was quite natural, she took it to be the verysame Peter Bartholomew. Then, taking him from her mother’s hand, shegravely marched with him to the hearth-rug, and, tucking him beneathit, sat down upon it, saying, “Tit on Peter,” in a tone of triumph,as though she thought she had now altogether extinguished the unluckyoffender. Great was her indignation when, later in the day, she wasbrought in from her drive, and found Peter Bartholomew No. 2 hadreappeared. Finding the hearth-rug was not a safe hiding-place, shewas from this time constantly contriving ways and means for puttinghim out of sight; but only to find that he as constantly turned upagain. In vain did she throw him out of windows, and behind doors; pokehim through the banisters, and let him fall in
the hall below: tuckhim behind sofa-cushions, and squeeze him into the smallest possiblecorners, with all manner of things piled on top of him: he still proveda source of trouble to her. The other children found great amusement inthis, and in pretending to hunt for Peter, while they knew very wellwhere he was.
But on the third day they really hunted in vain. Peter Bartholomew thesecond seemed to be as thoroughly “all don,” as his namesake who hadbeen left on the far-away Southern railroad; and the nurses joined inthe search with no better success. Annie seemed to have accomplishedher object this time; and the little one herself could not be persuadedto say where she had put him. Her mother tried to make her tell; butthe child seemed really to have forgotten, and the matter was allowedto rest.
However, Peter came to light at last, to light very nearly in earnest.In Mrs. Rush’s nursery was a large, open fireplace, where wood wasalways laid ready for lighting when a fire should be needed for thebaby. One cool morning, about a week after Peter’s disappearance, MayBessie’s nurse lit the fire, when Annie, who sat upon Mammy’s knee,suddenly exclaimed, as the smoke began to curl up the chimney,--
“Oh, dear, dear! Peter ’moke.”
“You monkey,” said nurse, “I believe you’ve put him behind the wood;”and the two nurses hastened to scatter the fire, when, sure enough,Peter Bartholomew was drawn forth, slightly scorched and smellingsomewhat of “’moke,” but otherwise unhurt. Annie took it hard, however,and was so grieved at his reappearance that Mrs. Rush, who was in thenursery, said he had better be put away while she stayed. Probably thelighting of the fire recalled to baby’s mind where she had put thelost Peter.
But we must go back to the first morning of their stay at Newport. Theladies were all rather tired with their journey and were disposed torest; but the children, refreshed by a good night’s sleep, were quiteready to start out with the gentlemen for a ramble on the beach.
“Do you like this as well as Quam Beach?” asked the Colonel of Bessie,as she sat beside him on a rock, with his arm drawn close about her, asin the old days of two summers since: those days when she had come, alittle Heaven-sent messenger, across his path, to guide his wanderingfeet into the road which leads to Eternal Life. Was it any wonder that,thinking of this, he looked down with a very tender love on the dearlittle one, over whose work the angels of Heaven had rejoiced?
They had both sat silent for some time, the rest of the party havingwandered to a short distance, when the Colonel asked this question,--
“Do you like this as well as Quam Beach, Bessie?”
“Oh, yes, sir! better,” said Bessie. “I never _did_ see such a lovely,lovely place as this, or feel such nice air. It’s the best place wewent to in all our travels; and then we have you and most all thepeople we love here. I am so very contented.”
She looked so indeed, as she sat smiling and happy, looking out overthe sapphire blue waters, and watching the white-capped waves whichbroke almost at her feet.
“Yes,” said the Colonel, smiling. “I thought it would add to yourcontentment to have all your people here to meet you, if I could bringit about.”
“Yes,” said Maggie, who came dancing up in time to hear these lastwords. “It was so very considerate of you and Aunt May. Oh! this isthe very happiest world I ever lived in. I wish, I _wish_, I could livea thousand years in it.”
“But Maggie,” said Bessie, “then you’d be so very long away fromheaven.”
“Well, yes,” said Maggie; “but then I’d hope to go to heaven after thethousand years, and I’d try to be very good all the time.”
“But long before the thousand years were past, all whom you lovewould have gone away to that still happier home our Lord has preparedfor us,” said the Colonel, “and then you would be lonely and wish tofollow, would you not, Maggie?”
“Yes,” answered Maggie, a shade of thoughtfulness coming over her sunnyface. “I’m sure I would if all my dear friends went to heaven, andmaybe some of them wouldn’t want to live a thousand years.”
“And it’s so hard always to be good,” said Bessie, “and sometimes even_we_ have troubles, and are sick, even though we are so happy ’most allthe time.”
“Yes,” said Maggie, “so we do. I’m not sick much ’cept when I have theearache: but maybe I’d be lame and deaf and blind and hump-backed, andall kind of things, before I was a thousand years old; and that wouldbe horrid. I wouldn’t like to have a great many troubles either; so Iguess it’s better it is fixed for me just as God chooses.”
“We may be sure of that, dear,” said the Colonel. “God knows what isbest for us, and rules our lives for our good and His glory.”
“I’m not sure I mind so very much about the being naughty now andthen,” said Maggie. “I know I ought to, but I’m afraid I don’t. Is’pose when I have so much to make me happy I ought to be full ofremorse all the time for ever being naughty, but somehow I can’t be.And I do have afflictions sometimes. Oh!” she added, as the thought ofher last severe trouble came over her, “we forgot to give Uncle Horacethe things we prepared for him. You see, Uncle Horace, one day I foundsuch a very nice proverb, ‘though lost to sight to memory dear;’ andBessie and I thought we would like to practise it on you; so I finishedup that poem I began, and Bessie drew a picture for you, and here isthe poem,” and Maggie drew from her pocket the poem, nicely finishedand copied out.
“Thank you very much, dear,” said the Colonel. “I am very much pleased;but I thought that the poem was lost, or that you had been robbed ofit.”
“Papa got it back for me,” said Maggie.
“Yes,” said Bessie; “and I was with papa when he asked Mr. Temple forit; and I was sorry for Mr. Temple, even though he did tease you so,Maggie.”
“Why, papa didn’t scold him, did he?” asked Maggie.
“No,” answered Bessie; “he only said, ‘Mr. Temple, may I trouble youfor that paper belonging to my little girl;’ but he _mannered_ him, andI wouldn’t like papa to have such a manner to me, and Mr. Temple lookedashamed. He is a very unpleasant gentleman; but I was sorry for him.”
“But where is the picture?” asked Colonel Rush.
“Here,” said Bessie, and in her turn she produced a paper from herpocket and unfolded it before the Colonel’s eyes. “It is Adam and Evein the garden of Eden,” she went on to say: “here they are, and thereis the tree with the serpent on it, and there is another with birds andsquir’ls on it. The squir’ls are eating nuts, and the birds are peckingpeaches, and they are having a nice time.”
“This is very interesting,” said the Colonel, not thinking it necessaryto tell her that peaches and nuts did not usually grow on the sametree; “and what is this in the corner, Bessie?”
“That is the bower they made for a home to live in,” said Bessie; “andthere is Adam’s wheelbarrow and Eve’s watering-pot. I s’pose she helpedAdam take care of the garden: don’t you, sir?”
“And this?” asked the Colonel, pointing to another object which he hadvainly been endeavoring to make out. “It is a pigeon house, I think.”
“Oh, no, sir!” said Bessie, rather mortified. “It is a flag, the flagof England. I was going to put the ’merican flag: but I thought itwould be more a compliment to you to put your own country’s; and soI did. There’s the lion;” and she pointed out something which lookedrather more like a spider than a lion; feeling the while, poor littlesoul, rather hurt that her compliment had not been appreciated withoutexplanation.
Now Maggie had had her doubts as to whether a flag was altogether asuitable ornament for the garden of Eden, but she had not chosen tosay so to Bessie, who had taken great pains with her picture; and shewatched the Colonel’s face closely to see if she could find any sign ofamusement or surprise.
Not the slightest. He sat gravely smoothing down his moustache, asBessie explained the picture to him, not a smile disturbing the linesof his face, not a twinkle breaking into those black eyes, looking onlyinterested and pleased; and Maggie dismissed her fears and satisfiedherself tha
t the flag was not at all out of place.
“This is a compliment, indeed,” said the Colonel with the utmostgravity. “You were very, very kind to think of it, Bessie; and Adam andEve were, as Maggie says, extremely considerate to allow the flag of mycountry to be planted in the garden of Eden. I must show this to AuntMay, and shall certainly keep it for May Bessie when she is old enoughto understand it. But see, who is coming here?”
The children followed the direction of his eye. Two figures were comingdown the beach,--a tall one, and a little one. Was it possible? Yes;it really was Mr. Powers and Belle, dear little Belle, whom Bessie hadbeen longing to see.
A shriek from Maggie, who went tumbling over a rock in her haste toreach them, but picked herself up and rushed on, regardless of grazedknees and elbows; an exclamation, less noisy, but quite as full ofpleasure, from Bessie,--and the three little friends had met again.There was Frankie too, who had been carting sea-weed, but had droppedspade and wagon-tongue at sight of Belle, of whom he was very fond; andthen there was such a hugging and kissing, such an interlacing of headsand arms and feet, that it would have been difficult to tell to whichlittle person each set belonged. Belle did not object to the smotheringshe received; on the contrary, she seemed to enjoy it, and Frankie soonrelieved her from his share, saying in a tone of great importance,--
“I have bis-er-ness to ’tend to,” and marched off to his sea-weed.
“I shall call Newport the ‘Country of Happy Delights’ when I writeabout it in the ‘Complete Family,’” said Maggie. “I never _did_ seesuch a place. Did you happen here, Belle, or did you know you werecoming?”
“We happened,” said Belle, “least Daphne and I did; but I think papaknew we were coming when he brought us.”
“That was just the way with us,” said Bessie: “all the big people knewwe were coming; but Maggie and I were so glad and surprised. How longhave you been here, Belle?”
“Oh! about half a year,” said Belle.
“Why, no,” said Maggie; “for it’s only a month since we left you in NewYork.”
“Is it?” said Belle. “Well, we came last Friday; and then papa broughtme here to see Aunt May. We live in the hotel; but Aunt May says I mustcome over every day and play with you. It was so lonesome wifout you,”and Belle put an arm about the neck of each of her little playmates,looking from one to the other with loving, satisfied eyes. “You see,Bessie, I grew to love you and Maggie so much, I can’t very well stayaway from you; and so I wasn’t very patient till you came.”
“Did you know we were coming?” asked Maggie.
“Yes, Aunt May told me I was so homesick for you; and papa said hebrought me here so I could see you sooner. Wasn’t it good of him?”
“Yes,” said Maggie. “Now let’s go and have a good play. Aunt May gaveus pails and spades to play in the sand with, Belle, and I will lendyou mine.”
But there proved to be no need of this; for Belle had been furnishedwith a spade and pail of her own, and Daphne now appeared with them; sothe little girls joined Frankie.
“What are you doing, Frankie?” asked Belle.
“Helpin’ Dod,” said Frankie.
“Why, Frankie!” said Bessie, rather shocked: “it’s not respectful foryou to say you’re helping God. He can do every thing Himself, withoutany one to help Him.”
“Well,” said Frankie, taking up another spadeful of sea-weed andtossing it into his wagon, “maybe so; but I dess He has too muchtrouble to make so much waves, and keep pushing dis sea-weed up all detime; so I jest putting it a little way farder for Him,” and away hewent with another wagon-load of sea-weed, which he was carting higherup the beach.
The three little girls did not know whether to laugh or not; but,presently, Maggie said,--
“I guess we need not be shocked at him. He thinks he’s doing somethingright, and we won’t disturb his mind about it. He’s such a funny child.”
He was a droll fellow, to be sure, that Frankie; always making oddspeeches; and like Maggie in one thing, that one never knew which wayhis ideas would turn. Like Maggie, also, he would never allow that hecould not reply to any question which might be put to him; but, ifhe had not the right answer, would contrive one which would fit theoccasion more or less well.
He now came running up to his father, who, with the other gentlemen,had joined Colonel Rush, and exclaimed eagerly,--
“Papa, papa, tome quit. I taught a nassy lobster; let’s tate him to thehouse and eat him.”
This was not a very inviting proposal, certainly; but the little boywas so anxious that some one should see his “nassy lobster,” that Mr.Bradford and Mr. Stanton went with him; the little girls also runningto see.
The “nassy lobster” proved to be one of those ugly shell-fish calledhorseshoes, which had been left there by the tide, and which Frankiehad contrived to turn over on its back. He was rather disgusted withhis prize, however, now that he had captured it; and, in spite of hisrequest that it should be taken home and cooked, looked very scornfullyat it, and pronounced it “degusting as any sing.”
Talking of cooking his fish had put him in mind that he was hungry,after his play in the fresh sea-air; and now, coming back and standingat his father’s knee, he said rather plaintively,--
“I wish Jesus was here.”
“Why, Frankie?” asked Mr. Bradford.
“’Tause He would dive me some fish and bread lite He did all those manypeople,” replied Frankie, who had lately heard the story of Christfeeding the multitude with the five loaves and two fishes. He was veryfond of Bible stories, this little boy, and liked to apply them tohimself and those about him.
“Tell me about that, Frankie, while Daphne goes to the house for somebiscuits for you,” said the Colonel; and Frankie repeated in a droll,but still sweet and simple way, the story of the grand miracle.
“But how was it that there was enough for so many people when there wasso little food, Frankie?” asked Mr. Powers, wishing to hear what thechild would say.
The little fellow looked thoughtful for a moment, and stood rubbingup his hair with his hand; but he was not to be conquered even bya question hard as this, and presently, seeing a way out of hisdifficulty, his face lighted up as he exclaimed,--
“Betause our Lord did not dive ’em dood appetites. You ought to knowdat yousef, sir;” and, with this, he ran away to meet Daphne, whom hesaw coming with his wished-for biscuits.
Bessie on Her Travels Page 13
