V.
_THE GARDENS._
BESSIE thought a great deal of those two poor, wicked, neglectedchildren, who had no one to care for them; and when she went up to bedand had knelt at her mother's side, and said her evening prayers, shepaused a moment before she rose and said,--
"Please, dear Jesus, send some one to teach Lem and Dolly about you,and how you loved little children, and let me help them a little ifthere is any way I could do it, 'cause I am so sorry for them. Amen."
Mamma laid her hand very tenderly on her darling's head, though shesaid nothing, for she did not see how it was possible for her gentlelittle girl to help the two forlorn outcasts upon whom all kindnessseemed worse than thrown away.
"Yet who knows what even she might do?" thought the mother, as havingseen each little birdling safe in its nest, she went slowly andmusingly down stairs to join the rest of the family, thinking as shewent of Bessie's simple prayer, "who knows what even she might do?for--
'Often such _childish_ heart is brought To act with power beyond its thought, For God by ways they have not known Will lead his own.'"
It would not be the first time, as the mother knew, that the seedinnocently dropped by that baby hand had taken root, and brought forthfruit rich and flourishing in the garden of the Lord.
"Maggie," said Bessie, the next morning as they sat together upon thepiazza step, waiting for Mr. Porter to take them to the garden andgive them their plots of ground, "Maggie, would you not like to dosomething for Lem and Dolly?"
"Yes, that I would," said Maggie; "I would just like to give Lem agood soaking in the lake, and to make Dolly's knee hurt just as muchas Fred's."
"But that would be naughty," said Bessie; "it's not the way Jesuswould like us to do, and it's not the Golden Rule that you like somuch, Maggie. I think it is to give evil for evil."
"Well, I s'pose it is," said Maggie; "and it is rather naughty, I dobelieve, Bessie; but I do not mean I would do it, only I would like todo it. I think I'll be about as naughty as that."
"Don't you think you can forgive them, Maggie?"
"No, not quite," said Maggie. "I'll forgive them a little, but I can'tgive them the whole of my forgiveness. Why, they were so very bad, anddid so many mean things to us, when we did not do a single thing tothem. Don't you feel a bit angry with them, Bessie?"
"Yes," said Bessie, "I'm 'fraid I do. When I think about it I feelpretty angry. But I want to try and forgive them enough to do a kindthing to them if I have a chance."
"Oh," said Maggie, "we could never do a kind thing to them even if wewanted to. You see they just come and do something bad, and then runaway, 'cause their guilty conscience knows they ought to be punished.And besides, Bessie, they're not fit 'ciety for us. The copy booksays, 'Shun evil company,' and mamma said that meant we must not gowith wicked people. And they are so ragged and dirty. You would notlike to touch them or sit down by them, would you?"
"No," said Bessie, quickly, for she was very dainty and delicate inall her ways, and the thought of coming near the miserable, dirtychildren was not at all pleasant to her; "but maybe sometimes we mightsay a kind word to them without going very close to them; and if weshowed them we did not feel very mad with them, perhaps they would notbe so naughty to us. I am so very sorry for them, 'cause they have noone to teach them better, and no mother, and such a bad father, whotries to make them more wicked. If you ever had the chance to do alittle bit of kindness for them, Maggie, would you not do it?"
"I don't know," said Maggie, "that's a great thing to make up myresolution about, and I'll have to think about it a little. Oh, hereare Mr. Porter and the boys. Now let us go."
"Maggie and Bessie, mamma wants to speak to you in her room before yougo," said Harry, looking very full of glee.
The little girls ran in, and there, oh, delight! there stood mammawith a tiny spade, rake and hoe in each hand. It was quite impossibleto mistake who they were meant for. They were just of the right sizefor our two small gardeners; and mamma's look and smile as she heldthem out told that they were for their use.
Maggie gave a shriek of delight and went capering all about the room;and Bessie's bright smile and the color which flushed her cheeks toldthat though less noisy, she was not less pleased than her sister.
"Oh, you darling, precious mamma," said Maggie, pausing in her capersto examine the pretty toys, "they are just what we wanted. How did youget them so quickly?"
"I brought them with me," said mamma, "thinking that some day when youwanted, something to do, they might furnish you with a new pleasure;but I did not think they would prove useful so soon. You must becareful of them, and not leave them lying out in the damp, or theywill be spoiled."
The children readily promised, and ran off to show their treasures totheir brothers and Mr. Porter.
Mr. Porter soon measured off such a square of ground as he hadpromised for each of them, adding one for Hafed, who was much pleasedto do as the others, and fell to with a good will at digging andplanting. Mr. Porter also kindly gave them such seeds as would doto plant at this late season; and papa, who had driven down to thevillage with the Colonel and Uncle Ruthven, came back with a number ofverbenas, heliotropes, geranium slips and other pretty things, whichwere set out in the new gardens. Nor was this all, for Uncle Ruthvenhad bought a small watering-pot for each child, and they had gone tothe carpenter's, where the Colonel had ordered two wheel-barrows, oneof a fit size for Maggie and Bessie, the other a little larger for theboys, and these were to be done in a day or two. In short, nothingseemed wanting to success but patience and industry on the part of theyoung gardeners.
The girls chose to have only flowers in their gardens, but the boyshad some vegetables as well. Mr. Porter told them the beds must bekept nicely weeded, and watered when the weather was dry.
There was only one fault which Maggie and Bessie could find with theirgardens, and that was that they lay at such a distance from the housethat mamma could not allow them to go there without their brothers ornurse to have an eye upon them. Not that they were not to be trustedout of sight, but mamma did not think it safe for two such littlegirls.
For some days after this, the four boys, Harry, Fred, Hafed and Bob,seemed to have an immense amount of whittling to do. At all odd timesthey were found with their knives and small strips of wood in theirhands, and these bits of wood were all fashioned into one size andshape. But to what use they were to be put was kept a grand secret,until one day when Maggie and Bessie went with Jane to work in theirgardens, they found a neat little fence about five inches high allaround their plots. The kind brothers had made this agreeable littlesurprise for them.
"Our peoples are always doing nice things for us," said Bessie, whenthey had thanked the boys.
"Yes," said Maggie, "I am quite expecting to be surprised all thetime."
At which the Colonel and Mrs. Rush, who were standing by, laughed,though Maggie could not see why.
Meanwhile nothing more had been seen or heard of Lem and Dolly. Mr.Porter had found out that Owen had not returned with them, and thatthe two children were alone in their miserable shanty. One day whenMaggie and Bessie were out walking with some of their older friends,they came upon this wretched home, if home it could be called. Therock against which it leaned formed one side of the house, the otherthree were of single boards nailed together. A square hole was cut fora window, but had neither glass nor casement; and the door hung by onerusty hinge, which looked as if it might give way at any moment. Therewas no one about; Lem and Dolly were away, probably busied in somenew mischief or theft, and our party peeped within the open door. Nofurniture of any kind was there. A heap of dried leaves and dirty ragsupon the hard, uneven ground which formed the floor, was the only bed;and the little girls drew back in disgust. Without, upon the rocks,were the charred embers of a fire, and over them two crooked sticks,and they, with a battered tin pan, and numberless bones and featherswhich lay scattered about, told that there the ill-gotten food wascooked and eaten.<
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It must have been a hard heart which was not saddened by the thoughtthat this was all the home of two young children; and Bessie felt morepity than ever for Lem and Dolly. Maggie felt it, too, and as theyturned away, she whispered to her sister,--
"Bessie, I never saw such a dreadful place to live in. I _would_ do akind thing for Lem and Dolly, if I could."
It was a lovely spot, too, but for the signs of poverty and filtharound. Before them the mountain fell suddenly away, leaving on twosides a beautiful view of the open country, dotted with its fields andfarm-houses. Away to the north stretched range after range of bluehills, till those in the distance were lost in the veil of mist whichhung over their tops. The woods around were full of wild flowers,briar roses, delicate primroses, and the bright red columbine, andeven here and there, a late anemone; the little star-like flower,looking almost as if it had dropped from heaven, and wondered to finditself alone and solitary, so far away from its sister stars.
A perfect silence lay upon all around; not a sound was heard; not aleaf seemed to stir in the summer air; not a bird was heard to uttera note; and a hush fell upon the party as they turned into the lovelylittle wood-path which led them homeward.
Bessie lingered a little, with her eyes fixed far away, and her headon one side as if she were hearkening to something.
"What is it, darling?" asked her father. "Are you not ready to go?"
"Yes, papa," she answered, putting her hand into his; "I was onlylistening to the _still_."
Her father smiled, and led her on till they had joined the rest. Theywere quite near home when the Colonel, who had fallen a little behindwith his wife, called to Maggie and Bessie.
"To-morrow is Sunday," he said. "Have you found a place where you canhave your Sunday-school class?"
No, Maggie and Bessie said, they had not thought of it.
"But perhaps Mr. Porter will let us have it in one of his barns, asMr. Jones used to do last summer," said Bessie.
"I have found a better place than that for you," said Colonel Rush;"that is, on a pleasant Sunday. When it rains, we must find coverwithin doors. See, here, what do you think of this for a Sunday-schoolroom?" And he guided them a little to one side, where a sloping pathand four or five natural steps led down into a broad crevice or cleftamong the rocks which surrounded the lake.
A lovely room it was indeed, carpeted with moss, curtained and shadedby the green trees which waved overhead, and furnished with seats madeby one or two fallen stones on one side, on the other by a ledge ofrock which jutted out at just such a height as to make a convenientbench for little people. The steps by which they had descended, closedthem in behind; in front lay the lake; beyond that again the gray oldrocks, the mountain rising bold and stern above the peaceful waters.No glimpse of the Lake House or its cheerful surroundings could beseen, unless one peered around the edge of the inclosing mass of rock,and this the Colonel would not permit the children to do, lest theyshould fall into the water which washed at the very foot of the prettyretreat.
The little ones were enchanted, as was their dear teacher, Mrs Rush,or "Aunt May," as they always called her now.
"I thought you would like it," said the Colonel. "I was strollingabout this morning when I came upon this nook, and thought what apleasant Sunday-school room it would make. So convenient, too. See,this great stone will do for a seat for May, and here is one for hertable; while this ledge makes a capital resting-place for you. Try it,little ones."
The bench certainly did very well for Maggie, but Bessie's feet wouldnot touch the ground. However, the Colonel made that all right byrolling over a flat stone which answered for a footstool, and Maggieand Bessie thought there was nothing more to be desired.
"Harry and Fred want to come," said Bessie, "do you think you couldlet them, Aunt May? Sunday evening we always tell them the stories theColonel tells us in the morning, but they say they would like to hearthem for themselves."
"And Uncle Ruthven would like Hafed to come too," said Maggie. "Hesaid he was going to ask you. Hafed likes to learn, Aunt May, and heknows English pretty well now, and tries to understand all that issaid to him."
"Certainly," said Mrs. Rush, "they may all come if they wish, and thenwe shall not miss Gracie and Lily so much."