Joanna H. Mathews

“ On a pearl-colored ground ran a vine of green leaves, and bright berries, and here and there, perched upon the stems, or hovering over and pecking at the berries, were the most brilliant colored birds. Never was seen a prettier paper, or one more suited to a little girls’ room; and both Maggie and Bessie were quite satisfied with such a “bower” as it made of their cosey little nook; and the Spanish moss, well beaten and shaken, to destroy all spiders who might have found a retreat therein, was consigned to the boys’ play-room in the top story of the house. ”

“ Aunt May’s invitation to come every day and play with Maggie and Bessie was never once lost sight of by Belle, who was only too glad to accept it, and be with her beloved little playmates as much as possible.
It was surprising to see how much Belle had improved during these months she had been so much with Maggie and Bessie: no, not surprising either to any one who knew how much a good example can do; at least when it shines before eyes which are willing and ready to profit by its light. ”

“ AT SEA.
“Are we at sea now, papa?” said Maggie, holding by her father’s hand as she jumped up and down on the deck of the steamer; “are we really at sea?”
“Hardly at sea yet, little daughter: we are still going down the bay. When we are fairly at sea we shall lose sight of our own great city, where we have left grandmamma and the boys, and all the other dear ones.”
“Yes,” said Bessie, who was by no means in such overflowing spirits as Maggie; “it’s rather sorrowful to leave so many of our own people behind us. I wish everybody could have come with us.” ”

“ Here, too, they often bathed, instead of driving over to the larger and more frequented beach; and here they might be found at almost every hour of the day. Here Bessie would sit, forgetting her play, as she watched the blue billows with their crests of white foam, rolling up one after the other on the smooth sands, and listening to the chiming sound of [336] the waves, the grand music of old ocean sounding ceaselessly, and speaking to all hearts, that will hear, of the power and goodness of the Almighty hand which holds it in its place. ”

“ Maggie was in an agony of embarrassment: too well did Kate know the signs, and remember with shame how, not long since, she herself had found as much amusement in them as George Temple was probably now doing, since he was taking so much pains to excite them. But Kate had learned better, and had grown more thoughtful [245] and considerate, more careful not to give pain to another for the sake of a little passing enjoyment to herself. How cruel Mr. Temple’s teasing seemed to her now, and how she felt for Maggie! ”

“ Away to the right lay a wilder, but hardly a grander, scene. Here were great, rugged rocks, among and over which dashed and foamed the waves, whose course they barred. Some were hidden beneath the surface of the water, and the feathery foam which boiled and bubbled over their jagged faces, alone told where they lay. Beyond, and far away, stretched the boundless ocean, the sea Bessie so loved; the white crests of its waves flashing and sparkling in the glorious sunshine of that bright morning ”

“ Kate added her reproaches when she returned, after leaving Maggie and Bessie in their father’s care, saying,—
“I had rather, for your own sake, that you had done this thing to any other children than those two, George. They are both so truly just, and have such a high sense of honor, which you have rudely shocked.”
“A child’s sense of honor,” repeated George, rather scornfully. “I am sorry I teased them, and had no idea Maggie would take it so hardly; but I am not troubled in regard to my self. A child’s opinion does not signify much.” ”

“ Maynard, [231] “grown people, I fear, too often forget how easily a child’s feelings are wounded; how the word, the look, or laugh, which to us is a matter of indifference, or some passing moment’s amusement, may mortify and grieve some sensitive little heart, and leave there a sore spot long after we have forgotten it.”
“Yes,” said Kate, regretfully, “my conscience is not at ease on that point. And you may thank darling Bessie, mother, for giving me more than one innocent lesson in consideration and thoughtfulness for others, both old and young. ”

“ Wasn’t it good of him?”
“Yes,” said Maggie. “Now let’s go and have a good play. Aunt May gave us pails and spades to play in the sand with, Belle, and I will lend you mine.”
But there proved to be no need of this; for Belle had been furnished with a spade and pail of her own, and Daphne now appeared with them; so the 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 for you to say you’re helping God. He can do every thing Himself, without any one to help Him.” ”

“ Even Baby Annie must throw out her share, and would hold up her tiny little finger to keep off any one who, she feared, would disturb the birds, saying,—
“Ss, ss, badie fy,” which meant, “Hush, hush, birdie fly.”
Then there was the bathing in the sea, now as formerly, such a source of pleasure to Bessie. Maggie, too, enjoyed it, for she had lost all fear of the waves while she was at Quam Beach. It afforded endless amusement, too, to Maggie, to see the droll figures presented by the bathers when they were dressed for their dip in the sea. ”

“ Papa was there and took the little girls out of the carriage when it stopped.
“What a nice place for the poor people to be in, when they don’t have any house of their own!” said Bessie: “I s’pose they’re very grateful for it.”
“Well, I don’t know about that,” said Maggie. “I find poor people in this world are not always grateful when they ought to be. Don’t you remember Mrs. Bent, Bessie?”
“Yes, I do,” said Bessie, in a tone which told that Mrs. Bent’s ingratitude, as she and Maggie thought it, was not to be easily forgotten. ”

“ It is the seashore you are longing for, even more than the open sea itself. Well, perhaps one of these days, you may be there again.”
“Oh! do you think I might be, papa? Oh, that would be so delightful!” and she turned her little, eager, wistful face to her father with such a sparkle in her eye.
“I think it more than likely that such a thing will come to pass, Bessie,” said Mr. Bradford; but he did not tell her what a pleasant surprise awaited her in the course of her summer travels.
“Papa,” she said again presently, “do not these dear little waves we have to-day make you think of our Maggie? ”

“ She could not have better teaching than she found in the grave surprise in Bessie’s sweet eyes when she worried her father, and fretted herself for some forbidden pleasure, or when she was wilful and imperious with her devoted old nurse; or in her gentle, “You wouldn’t tease your father when you’re his little comfort: would you, Belle?” She could not but learn ready obedience, generosity, and thoughtfulness for others, when she saw them put in daily practice even by Maggie, who had so much natural heedlessness to struggle with ”

“ Bessie, dropping the doll upon her lap and looking at Maggie in fresh dismay.
“Yes, I feel it,” said Maggie, with a tragic whisper and shake of her head.
“Oh, no, dear! Papa said not, and the doctor said so too. They said people hardly ever died of seasickness.”
“Then I’m one of the ‘hardly evers,’ Bessie,” persisted Maggie, seeming, poor child, to find some relief in the idea; “and I’d better make my will, and tell you who I want my playthings and other possessings to go to.” ”

“ You know that soldier with a gun, that was walking up and down there? well, I guess he’s a kind of soldier-policeman and we’ll ask him. The prison is just outside of that gate-hole,” said Bessie, pointing to the archway by which the fort was entered; “and we will be back in a moment.”
“Shall we ask Maggie to go?” said Belle.
“No, Maggie was so frightened at them. She is over there with Harry, looking at those ugly black balls; so we won’t ’sturb her, but just go by ourselves.” ”

“ For the first few moments they did not understand it, and even after the cars were in rapid motion, looked about them expecting to see their parents and nurses come in. The truth came first to Maggie, and her poor little heart almost stood still with terror and dismay.
“Why, we’re going!” exclaimed Belle. “Where’s papa?”
“And papa and mamma, and all our people?” cried Bessie in a terrified voice.
Then Maggie broke forth.
“Oh, we’re gone off with! They’re left behind! What shall we do? Oh! what shall we do? There’s nobody to take care of us: we’re gone off with.” ”

“ If Maggie lives to write a book on each “subject” she has put down for that purpose, she will be very old indeed.
Bessie said no more; for if she and Maggie differed on something which was not important, she never argued about it, and this was probably one reason why they never quarrelled; for each was content to let the other be of her own way of thinking, so long as it did no harm. If we could all learn that lesson it would save many hard words and thoughts, and the trouble which arises from such. ”

“ It is strange we do not see that too; looking back, as we often do, with a sort of tender pity for our own former grieved and mortified little selves, and remembering with such distinctness the sharp or quick word of reproof, the thoughtless teasing, or the loud, sudden laugh at some innocent speech or action.
Little did Bessie think when she wrote that last letter, how soon her wishes to see her dear friends were to be gratified. ”

“ Bradford. “Why, you don’t want to make yours, do you?”
“I have made it, papa,” said Maggie, with all the gravity of a judge. “I told Bessie about it, but I want to know if it’s against the law to undo the things you’ve willed, if you don’t die when you thought you were going to.”
“Not at all,” said papa, laughing: “you may make your will, and ‘undo it’ as often as you please, while you are living.”
“For the people won’t be disappointed as long as they don’t know you’ve willed them the things,” said Maggie, meditatively. ”

“ I would, Bessie.”
“Oh, no, Belle!” said Bessie. “I never would hint you to give me a thing. Mamma says that is not a nice thing to do; and I was thinking of something better than that, something that would be a great, great help to some one, and last a great, great while, maybe for ever.”
“Well,” said Belle, [362] “why don’t you tell me what it is? You know I don’t have a great deal of think in me to find out how to do good for ofers; but I b’lieve I have some do in me when I know how.”
“Yes, you have,” said Maggie, “and some day you’ll learn how to think for yourself. ”

“ Granby?” asked Belle.
“No, we did not promise, not with words,” said Bessie; “but then, we made up our minds to do it, and we wouldn’t like not to. I think it would seem a little like not being very true in our hearts to Mrs. Granby.”
“Oh, dear!” said Maggie, “there are such lots of things one wants to do; but somehow, one can’t seem to do every thing.”
“Mamma,” said Bessie, “don’t you think papa would like to help this boy? ”

“ You can see none on any side. It is water, water, the real true ocean, all around us, as far and farther than our eyes can reach. You do not mean that you would have it rough and stormy?”
“Oh, no, papa!” Bessie answered, rather puzzled herself how to make her meaning plain to her father; “but I mean that kind of sea where the waves come slowly, slowly on the beach, all white and curly, and make that nice sound I like so much. ”

“ Just before they left home, grandmamma had given to each of the little girls a Testament and Psalms bound together. She thought they might be more convenient for daily use in travelling, than the handsomely bound Bibles which they generally used at home; and if they should happen to be lost would not be so much regretted. They had been carried in the little satchels all the way; and now, as usual, Bessie’s satchel hung by her side. The book was not large; but the print was good and clear, far better than that on old Joe’s cherished leaf, and what a world of riches it would hold for him. ”

“ Maggie sprang to her feet, letting the flowers fall to the ground, and seized eagerly upon the kind hand held out for her relief. The tears, which she had been struggling to hold back, flowed freely the moment she was beyond the sound of her tormentor’s voice; but she felt better for them and for Kate’s sympathy. ”

“ Poor Lucy had not the least idea what the Paris Exposition was; but she knew very well that these unkind children were making fun of her, and she drew back with a hurt and angry look.
“Couldn’t you give my sisters the pattern of that lovely bonnet?” said Arthur.
“And of that outside toggery too,” said William, “whatever its name is. Not being used to such an elegant style of dress, I don’t know what to call it.”
“You ought to be ashamed to talk so,” said Bessie, indignantly. “She’s a nice, good, little girl, who tries to be a help to every one ”

“ Your pity is only wasted.”
“Oh, no!” said Bessie; “for you know Jesus said we must be sorry with people when they are in trouble, and happy with them when they are glad. I’m very sorry for him and the other men too. Who can let them out, Uncle Horace?”
“Only their officers, Bessie; and I fear they must stay here now till their time is up: but we will hope they will do better in future, and not deserve punishment again. Come away now: your mother will be anxious.”
Bessie obeyed; but both she and Belle cast backward pitying looks at the poor prisoners. ”

“ Bessie colored, and answered, “But I’m afraid I did it more ’cause I was angry for his being impolite to me than for his teasing Lucy.”
“But tell us all about it; and did you say the child had no mother?” said Mrs. Gordon.
In reply, Bessie told all she knew about Lucy, omitting, however, to give any account of the unkindness of Arthur Lathrop and his brother and sisters to the poor child. This was noticed by both Dr. and Mrs. Gordon, but they pressed her no farther, seeing she did not wish to speak of it.
“There’s another will be glad to come,” said Mrs. Gordon, eagerly, to her husband. ”

“ Now, I think Waters was somewhat mistaken when he said Lucy’s clothes were as nice as he could afford. He had good wages, and his little girl did not want for what was necessary to make her neat and comfortable: but he did not know how to dress her; and the enormous shaker bonnet, which would have fitted a grown woman; and long, scant apron which came to her feet,—cost no less, perhaps more, than the short frock and round straw hat, which would have been more convenient and suitable for a girl of her age. ”