Laura E. Richards

“ The cotter's wife croons it over her sleeping baby; the lover sings it to his sweetheart; the child runs, carolling it, through the summer fields; finally, some world-honored prima-donna, some Patti or Nilsson, sings it as the final touch of perfection to a great feast of music, and hearts swell and eyes overflow to find that the nursery song of our childhood is a world-song, immortal in freshness and beauty. But I am apt to think that no lover, no tender mother, no splendid Italian or noble Swede, could sing "Annie Laurie" as Melody sang it. ”

“ But Rejoice Dale took her sister's hand in hers.
"'Though a thousand fall beside thee, and ten thousand at thy right hand, yet it shall not come nigh thee,'" she said steadfastly. "Our blind child is in her Father's hand, Sister; He leads her, and she can go nowhere without Him. Go you now, and seek for her."
"I cannot!" cried Vesta Dale, wringing her hands and weeping. "I cannot leave you, Rejoice. You know I cannot leave you." ”

“ Quiet all, for Melody is singing! Standing up, held fast by those faithful hands on either side, the child lifts her face to heaven, lifts her heart to God, lifts up her voice in the evening hymn,--
"Jubilate, jubilate! Jubilate, amen!" The people stand with bowed heads, with hands folded as if in prayer. What is prayer, if this be not it? The evening light streams down, warm, airy gold; the clouds press near in pomp of crimson and purple. The sick woman holds her peace, and sees the angels of God ascending and descending, ministering to her. ”

“ Down comes the signal, and the old man creeps back to his chair again, and composes himself decently, with reverent, folded hands, and head bowed in waiting. "'He holdeth the waters in the hollow of His hand. Behold, He taketh up the isles as a very little thing.' Amen! so be it!"
Wave, little Star! wave your little blue apron from the rocks, and laugh and clap your hands for pleasure, as the ripples from the steamer's bow break in snowy foam at your feet. Bend to your oar, Bob Peet, and send your little black boat flying over the water as she never flew before! ”

“ Among all these hurrying motes in the broad, fierce stream of sunshine, one figure moves slowly, without haste. Nobody looks at anybody else, or this figure might attract some attention, even in the streets of the great city. An old man, tall and slender, with snowy hair falling in a single curl over his forehead; with brown eyes which glance birdlike here and there, seeing everything, taking in every face, every shadow of a vanishing form that hurries along and away from him; with fiddle-bow in hand, and fiddle held close and tenderly against his shoulder. ”

“ How did the time pass with the sick woman, waiting in the little chamber, listening day by day and hour by hour for the steps, the voices, which did not come? Miss Rejoice was very peaceful, very quiet,--too quiet, thought Mandy Loomis, the good neighbor who watched by her, fulfilling her little needs, and longing with a thirsty soul for a good dish of gossip. If Rejoice would only "open her mind!" it would be better for her, and such a relief to poor Mandy, unused to silent people who bore their troubles with a smile. ”

“ At the farther end the rocks are piled high, like a castle wall, making a brave barrier against the Atlantic waves; and on top of this cairn rises the lighthouse, rugged and sturdy as the rocks themselves, but painted white, and with its windows shining like great, smooth diamonds. This is Light Island; and it was in this direction that Captain January's red dory was headed when he took his leave of his brother-captain, and rowed away from the wharf. ”

“ Nay, but who is this, leaning over the old stone-wall, listening with keenest interest,--this man with the dark, eager face and bold black eyes? His eyes are fixed on the child; his face is aglow with wonder and delight, but with something else too,--some passion which strikes a jarring note through the harmony of the summer idyl. What is this man doing here? Why does he eye the blind child so strangely, with looks of power, almost of possession?
Cease, cease your song, Melody! Fly, bird and tiny beast, to your shelter in the dark tree-tops ”

“ One would have said that she was calling the spirit of song, which might descend on rainbow wings, and fold her in his arms. The old man drew the bow softly, and the fiddle gave out a low, brooding note,--a note of invitation.
"Oh, don't you remember sweet Alice, Ben Bolt? Sweet Alice, whose hair was so brown? She wept with delight when you gave her a smile, And trembled with fear at your frown." Softly the old man played, keeping his eyes fixed on the child, whose glorious voice floated out on the evening air, filling the whole world with sweetest melody. ”

“ You have been a faithful and loving child, little Star, to your beloved guardian and friend here, and no father could have cared for you more tenderly than he has done. But the tie of blood is a strong one, my dear, and should not be lightly set aside. This lady is your own near relation, the sister of your dear dead mother. Through the merciful providence of God, she has been led to you, and she feels it her duty to claim you, in the name of your parents. ”

“ Melody shivered a little, then drew herself together and was still,--the stillest figure that ever breathed and lived. Anderson clenched his hands and fairly trembled with rage and with the effort to conceal it. He must not frighten the child too much. He could not punish her, hurt her in any way; for any shock might injure the precious voice which was to make his fortune. ”

“ The elms met over head in triumphal arches; the creepers on the low houses hung out wonderful scarfs and banners of welcome, which swung gold and purple in the joyous light. And as the people came out of their houses, now that the time was drawing near, lo! the light was on their faces too; and the plain New England men and women, in their prints and jeans, shone like the figures in a Venetian picture, and were all a-glitter with gold and precious stones for once in their lives, though they knew it not. ”

“ The slender figure swaying hither and thither, with its gentle, wind-blown motion, the exquisite face alight with happiness, the floating tendrils of hair, the most beautiful hair in the world; then the dear, homely country folks sitting by the roadside, watching with breathless interest his darling, their darling, the flower of the whole country-side; Miss Vesta's tall, stately figure in the doorway; the vine-clad window, behind which Rejoice lies, unseen, yet sharing all the sweet, simple pleasure with heartfelt enjoyment,--all this the old fiddler sees, set plain before him. ”

“ Instead of the pink calico frock and blue checked pinafore, to which his eyes were accustomed, the little figure was clad in a robe of dark green velvet with a long train, which spread out on the staircase behind her, very much like the train of a peacock. The body, made for a grown woman, hung back loosely from her shoulders, but she had tied a scarf of gold tissue under her arms and round her waist, while from the long hanging sleeves her arms shone round and white as sculptured ivory. A strange sight, this, for a lighthouse tower on the coast of Maine! ”

“ And now, ma'am, now I count this the most fortunate day of my life! Is the little lady in the house, ma'am? I'd like to have a little talk with her; kind o' open her eyes to what's before her,--her mind's eye, Horatio, eh? Know anything of Shakspeare, ma'am? Is she in the house, I say?"
"She is not," said Miss Vesta Dale, finding her voice at last. "The child is away, and you should not see her if she were here. She is not meant for the sort of thing you talk about. She--she is the same as our own child, my sister's and mine. We mean to keep her by us as long as we live. ”

“ This is my life, my work. I am God's child; and do you think I do not know the work my Father has given me to do?" With a sudden movement she stepped forward, and laid her hand lightly on the man's breast. "You are God's child, too!" she said, in a low voice. "Are you doing His work now?"
There was silence in the room. Anderson was as if spellbound, his eyes fixed on the child, who stood like a youthful prophetess, her head thrown back, her beautiful face full of solemn light, her arm raised in awful appeal. The woman threw her apron over her head and began to cry. ”

“ The Captain liked Bob because he was not "given to clatter," and "knew how to belay his jaw."
"I do love to see a man belay his jaw!" said Captain January, unconsciously quoting the words of another and a more famous captain, the beloved David Dodd. So Bob was free to come and go as he liked, and to smoke his pipe in sociable silence for hours at a time, within the walls of Storm Castle.
"Stop here, Bob!" said Star, with an imperious motion of her hand. "I don't want to go any nearer." The obedient Bob lay on his oars, and both looked up at the great boat, now only a few yards away. ”

“ But there may have been a "call," as Rosin the Beau would have said, for some one else beside Vesta Dale; for a tall, pale girl, who has been leaning against the wall pulling off the gray lichens as she listened, now slips away, and goes home and writes a letter; and to-morrow morning, when the mail goes to the next village, two people will be happy in God's world instead of being miserable. And now? Oh, now it is a merry song; for, after all, Melody is a child, and a happy child; and though she loves the sad songs dearly, still she generally likes to end up with a "dancy one." ”

“ Miss Rejoice had white hair too, but it had a warm yellowish tinge, very different from the clear white of Miss Vesta's. It curled, too, in little ringlets round her beautiful old face. In short, Miss Vesta was splendidly handsome, while no one would think of calling Miss Rejoice anything but lovely. The younger sister lay always in bed. It was some thirty years since she met with the accident which changed her from a rosy, laughing girl into a helpless cripple. A party of pleasure,--gay lads and lasses riding together, careless of anything save the delight of the moment ”

“ The man pursued his advantage relentlessly. "You are a fine woman, ma'am, if you'll allow me to say so,--a remarkably fine woman. But you are getting on in life, as we all are. This child will support you, ma'am, instead of your supporting her. Support you, do I say? Why, you'll be rolling in wealth in a few years! You spoke of a sister, ma'am. Is she in good health, may I ask?" His quick eye had spied the white-curtained bed through the vine-clad window, and his ear had caught the tender tone of her voice when she said, "my sister."
"My sister is an invalid," said Miss Vesta, coldly. ”

“ He shakes his head with a patient look, makes his grand bow, and passes on to the next street, the next wondering crowd, the next disappointment. Sometimes he is hailed by some music-hall keeper who hears him play, and knows a good thing when he hears it, and who engages the old fiddler to play for an evening or two. He goes readily enough; for there is no knowing where the dark stranger may have taken the child, and where no clew is, one may follow any track that presents itself. So the old man goes, and sits patiently in the hot, noisy place. ”

“ I must seem to you so cruel, so heartless, to come and ask for the child whom you have loved and cared for so long. For that is what I have come for! I must speak frankly, now that I see your kind, honest face. I have come to take my sister's child, for it is my duty to do so." She laid both hands on the old man's arm, and looked up in his face with pleading, tearful eyes. ”

“ Melody smiled, and her smile said much, for Anderson turned red, and clenched his hands fiercely.
"You belong to the world, I tell you!" he cried again. "The world has a right to you."
"To the world?" the child repeated softly. "Yes, it is true; I do belong to the world,--to God's world of beauty, to the woods and fields, the flowers and grasses, and to the people who love me. When the birds sing to me I can answer them, and they know that my song is as sweet as their own. The brook tells me its story, and I tell it again, and every ripple sounds in my voice ”

“ I've ben here a week now, Mis' Penny. Every night the death-watch has ticked in Mel'dy's room the endurin' night. I don't sleep, you know, fit to support a flea. I hear every hour strike right straight along, and I know things that's hid from others, Mis' Penny, though I do say it. Last night as ever was I heard a sobbin' and a sighin' goin' round the house, as plain as I hear you this minute. Some might ha' said't was the wind, but there's other things besides wind, Mis' Penny; and I solemnly believe that was Mel'dy's sperrit, and the child is dead. ”

“ You are not fit; you are trembling all over. God help us!" cried Dr. Brown, again.
For a moment the two strong ones stood irresolute, feeling themselves like little children in the grasp of a fate too big for them to grapple. The sick woman closed her eyes, and waited. God would help, in His good way. ”

“ The beauty of it all filled the eyes and the heart of Captain January, as he came up among the rocks. He paused, and stood for some time in silence, watching the little well-beloved figure. "Wal!" he said, "if that ain't one of the young-eyed cherubims, then I never seed one, that's all."
At this moment Star caught sight of him. "O Daddy," she cried. "My Daddy Captain, I'm having such a fine ride! It isn't _quite_ as high as a heaven-kissing hill, but it's a heaven-kissing cow, for Imogen is really _very_ high. Dear Daddy, won't you come and try it? there's plenty of room!" ”

“ First the brown mare's head, with sharp ears pricked, coming round the bend; then a gleam of white, a vision of waving hair, a light form bending forward. Melody! Melody has come back to us! They shout and laugh and cry, these quiet people. Alfred and Alice his wife have run forward, and are caressing the brown mare with tears of joy, holding the baby up for Melody to feel and kiss, because it has grown so wonderfully in this week of her absence. Mrs. Penny is weeping down behind the hedge; Mandy Loomis is hurling herself out of the window as if bent on suicide ”