CHAPTER VI.
BEN BUYS ELM ISLAND.
Ben went to Boston to see the old merchant, whom he knew very well,having often seen him at his father’s when he was on his summer visits.The good merchant, who had been a poor boy, and earned his property byhis own industry, and was both too wise and too good to value himselfby his wealth, received Ben so kindly, that he told him all his heart;what he wanted the island for, of the promise he had made to Sally, andall about it. He commended Ben; told him he knew Sally’s father (thathe had sailed for him), and her mother, too; she was of good blood;there was a great deal in the blood. He told him he would have a happylife; that he had always regretted he had not been a farmer himself.He had worked night and day, amassed a large property, educated hisfamily, and looked forward to the time when they would be a source ofhappiness to him; but his children were indolent, knew he had wealth,and had no desire to do anything for themselves; he feared they wouldspend his money faster than he had earned it. “Indeed, Ben,” repliedthe merchant, with a sigh, “I would much rather take your chance forhappiness, and a comfortable living in this world, than that of eitherof my sons.”
Ben was utterly amazed. He had thought, when looking upon that splendidfurniture, and wealth and taste there displayed, that people in suchcircumstances must be extremely happy; but, as he was not deficient inshrewdness, he learned a lesson that effectually repressed any desireto murmur at his own lot.
The merchant then said to him, “Mr. Rhines, if you were buying thisisland on speculation, I should charge you a round price for it, asthe timber is valuable, easy of access by water, the taxes are merelynominal, and your father prevents it from being plundered; but as youare buying it to make a home of, and I know what you have done for yourfather,--for he told me himself,--I shall let you have it at a lowrate, and any length of time you wish to pay for it in.”
As they parted, he encouraged Ben by telling him that a Down-easterwould get rich where anybody else would starve.
It was now the month of October. Ben proposed that they should bemarried; Sally should live with her mother during the winter, while hewent on to the island, cut a freight of spars, dug a cellar before theground froze, and made preparations for building in the spring. ButSally declared she would as lief have Ben at sea as have him on thisisland, running back and forth in the cold winter; that after a man hadbeen at work a whole week, he didn’t want to pull a boat six miles, andbe wet all through with spray; that there would be a great many days,when, if he was off, he could not get on, and if he was on, he couldnot get off, and there would be a great deal of time lost. Man and wifeought not to be separated; ’twas no way to live; she would go to theisland and live with him.
“Live where, Sally?” inquired Ben.
“Why, with you. I suppose you will live somewhere--won’t you?”
“Well,” replied Ben, with a comical look at his great limbs, “I canlive anywhere a Newfoundland dog can; but I shouldn’t want you to, norshould I consent to it. I expect to take some hands with me, build ahalf-faced cabin, good enough for us to live in, cut spars and timber,build a house next summer, and move in the fall.”
“It’ll cost you a good deal to build this house.”
“Why, yes. I can get the frame on the island, and the stuff for theboards and shingles. I shall have to buy bricks, and lime, and nails,and hire a joiner.”
“What does’t cost to build a log house?”
“Next to nothing, because we can build them of logs that are fit fornothing else.”
“Are they warm?”
“Warmest things that ever you saw. The boards on a house are only aninch thick, but you can have the logs three feet thick, if you like.”
“Are they tight?”
“They can be made as tight as a cup.”
“I don’t think, then, a Newfoundland dog would be likely to suffer muchin your shanty.”
“I was telling how a log house _could_ be made. I don’t expect to takemuch pains with mine.”
“Would not all this timber that you are going to make frame, boards,and shingles of, fetch a good price in the market?”
“Why, yes, it would nearly all make spars.”
“Then you should build, instead of a half-faced cabin, a real loghouse, ‘three feet thick,’ if you like, and ‘as tight as a cup.’ I’llgo on with you; it’ll be a great deal better than to take turns incooking, and live like pigs, as men always do when they live together.I’ve heard you say you had rather eat off a chip, and then throw itaway, than eat off a china plate, and have to wash it when you weredone; then there would be no time lost. When you came in from your workyou would have your meals warm, and we would have a real sociable timein the evening.”
“O, that will never do.”
“But it will do, Ben; you’ve just said that a log house was warm andcomfortable.”
“Indeed it is,” chimed in the old lady, who, with her spectacles aboveher cap, and her hands upon her knees, sat leaning forward, her wholesoul in her face, while the favorite cat, who for twenty years hadspent the evening in her patron’s lap, stood with one paw upon hermistress’s knee, and the other uplifted with an air of astonishment atbeing prevented from securing her accustomed place,--“indeed it is.Mother used to say this house never began to be so warm or so tight asthe old log house.”
“O, dear, Sally!” exclaimed Ben, greatly troubled; “I thought ’twas badenough to take you on to the island to live at all, and now you insiston living in a log house. What will folks say? They will say, there’sSally Hadlock, that might have had her pick of the likeliest fellowsin town, and never have had to bring the water to wash her hands, hastaken up with Ben Rhines, and gone to live in a log shanty on ElmIsland.”
“Look here, Ben,” replied Sally; “suppose my father had been afisherman, and lived on Elm Island; wouldn’t you have come on there andlived with me, though all the young fellows in town had said, There’sBen Rhines, that might have been master of as fine a ship as ever swum,has taken up with old Hadlock’s daughter, and gone to live on ElmIsland?”
“To be sure I would.”
“Well, then,” said Sally, coloring, “I hope you don’t want me to say,right here before mother, that I’d rather live on Elm Island, in a loghouse, with the boy I love, than with the best of them in a palace. Iwant to bring the water to wash my hands. I don’t believe that God madeus to be idle, or that we are any happier for being so.”
“That’s right,” shouted the old lady, in ecstasies, rising up andkissing her daughter’s cheek; “that’s the old-fashioned sort of love,that will wear and make happiness, and it’s all the thing on this earththat will; it will bear trial; it is a fast color, and won’t fadeout in washing. Most young people nowadays want to begin where theirfathers left off, and they end with running out all that their fathersleft them. You’re willing to begin and cut your garment according toyour cloth, and you will prosper accordingly.”