interested in the busy, practical life about her that herown high-flown dreams were quite forgotten, and she learned to enjoy thesweet prose of daily labor.
One breezy afternoon as she and her mother sat resting from a stroll onthe way-side bank among the golden-rod and asters, they saw Becky comingup the long hill with a basket on her arm. She walked slowly, as if lostin thought, yet never missed pushing aside with a decided gesture of herfoot every stone that lay in her way. There were many in that rockypath, but Becky left it smoother as she climbed, and paused now and thento send some especially sharp or large one spinning into the grassyditch beside the road.
"Isn't she a curious girl, Mamma? so tired after her long walk to town,yet so anxious not to leave a stone in the way," said Emily, as theywatched her slow approach.
"A very interesting one to me, dear, because under that humble exteriorlies a fine, strong character. It is like Becky to clear her way, evenup a dusty hill where the first rain will wash out many more stones. Letus ask her why she does it. I've observed the habit before, and alwaysmeant to ask," replied Mrs. Spenser.
"Here we are! Come and rest a minute, Becky, and tell us if you mendroads as well as ever so many other things," called Emily, beckoningwith a smile, as the girl looked up and saw them.
"Oh, it's a trick of mine; I caught it of Father when I was a littlething, and do it without knowing it half the time," said Becky, sinkingdown upon a mossy rock, as if rest were welcome.
"Why did he do it?" asked Emily, who knew that her friend loved to talkof her father.
"Well, it's a family failing I guess, for his father did the same, only_he_ began with his farm and let the roads alone. The land used to bepretty much all rocks up here, you know, and farmers had to clear theground if they wanted crops. It was a hard fight, and took a sight oftime and patience to grub out roots and blast rocks and pick up stonesthat seemed to grow faster than anything else. But they kept on, and nowsee!"
As she spoke, Becky pointed proudly to the wide, smooth fields lyingbefore them, newly shorn of grass or grain, waving with corn, or rich ingarden crops ripening for winter stores. Here and there were rockystrips unreclaimed, as if to show what had been done; and massive stonewalls surrounded pasture, field, and garden.
"A good lesson in patience and perseverance, my dear, and does greathonor to the men who made the wilderness blossom like the rose," saidMrs. Spenser.
"Then you can't wonder that they loved it and we want to keep it. Iguess it would break Mother's heart to sell this place, and we are allworking as hard as ever we can to pay off the mortgage. Then we'll bejust the happiest family in New Hampshire," said Becky, fondly surveyingthe old farm-house, the rocky hill, and the precious fields won from theforest.
"You never need fear to lose it; we will see to that if you will letus," began Mrs. Spenser, who was both a rich and a generous woman.
"Oh, thank you! but we won't need help I guess; and if we should, Mrs.Taylor made us promise to come to her," cried Becky. "She found us justin our hardest time, and wanted to fix things then; but we are proud inour way, and Mother said she'd rather work it off if she could. Thenwhat did that dear lady do but talk to the folks round here, and show'em how a branch railroad down to Peeksville would increase the value ofthe land, and how good this valley would be for strawberries andasparagus and garden truck if we could only get it to market. Some ofthe rich men took up the plan, and we hope it will be done this fall. Itwill be the making of us, for our land is first-rate for small crops,and the children can help at that, and with a _deepot_ close by it wouldbe such easy work. That's what I call helping folks to help themselves.Won't it be grand?"
Becky looked so enthusiastic that Emily could not remain uninterested,though market-gardening did not sound very romantic.
"I hope it will come, and next year we shall see you all hard at it.What a good woman Mrs. Taylor is!"
"Ain't she? and the sad part of it is, she can't do and enjoy all shewants to, because her health is so poor. She was a country girl, youknow, and went to work in the city as waiter in a boarding-house. A richman fell in love with her and married her, and she took care of him foryears, and he left her all his money. She was quite broken down, but shewanted to make his name loved and honored after his death, as he hadn'tdone any good while he lived; so she gives away heaps, and is nevertired of helping poor folks and doing all sorts of grand things to makethe world better. I call that splendid!"
"So do I, yet it is only what you are doing in a small way, Becky," saidMrs. Spenser, as the girl paused out of breath. "Mrs. Taylor clears thestones out of people's paths, making their road easier to climb thanhers has been, and leaving behind her fruitful fields for others toreap. This is a better work than making verses, for it is the realpoetry of life, and brings to those who give themselves to it, no matterin what humble ways, something sweeter than fame and more enduring thanfortune."
"So it does! I see that now, and know why we love Father as we do, andwant to keep what he worked so hard to give us. He used to say everystone cleared away was just so much help to the boys; and he used totell me his plans as I trotted after him round the farm, helping all Icould, being the oldest, and like him, he said."
Becky paused with full eyes, for not even to these good friends couldshe ever tell the shifts and struggles in which she had bravely borneher part during the long hard years that had wrested the littlehomestead from the stony-hearted hills.
The musical chime of a distant clock reminded her that supper time wasnear, and she sprang up as if much refreshed by this pleasant rest bythe way-side. As she pulled out her handkerchief, a little roll of paleblue ribbon fell from her pocket, and Emily caught it up, exclaimingmischievously, "Are you going to make yourself fine next Sunday, whenMoses Pennel calls, Becky?"
"Just as they were parting for bed, in rushed one of theboys with the exciting news."--PAGE 45.]
The girl laughed and blushed as she said, carefully folding up theribbon,--
"I'm going to do something with it that I like a sight better than that.Poor Moses won't come any more, I guess. I'm not going to leave Mothertill the girls can take my place, and only then to teach, if I can get agood school somewhere near."
"We shall see!" and Emily nodded wisely.
"We shall!" and Becky nodded decidedly, as she trudged on up the steephill beside Mrs. Spenser, while Emily walked slowly behind, pokingevery stone she saw into the grass, unmindful of the detriment to herdelicate shoes, being absorbed in a new and charming idea of trying tofollow Mrs. Taylor's example in a small way.
A week later the last night came, and just as they were parting for bed,in rushed one of the boys with the exciting news that the railroadsurveyors were in town, the folks talking about the grand enterprise,and the fortune of the place made forever.
Great was the rejoicing in the old farm-house; the boys cheered,the little girls danced, the two mothers dropped a happy tear asthey shook each other's hands, and Emily embraced Becky, tenderlyexclaiming,--"There, you dear thing, is a great stone shoved out of_your_ way, and a clear road to fortune at last; for I shall tell all myfriends to buy your butter and eggs, and fruit and pigs, and everythingyou send to market on that blessed railroad."
"A keg of our best winter butter is going by stage express to-morrowanyway; and when our apples come, we shan't need a railroad to get 'emto you, my darling dear," answered Becky, holding the delicate girl inher arms with a look and gesture half sisterly, half motherly, whollyfond and grateful.
When Emily got to her room, she found that butter and apples were notall the humble souvenirs offered in return for many comfortable gifts tothe whole family.
On the table, in a pretty birch-bark cover, lay several of Becky's bestpoems neatly copied, as Emily had expressed a wish to keep them; andround the rustic volume, like a ring of red gold, lay a great braid ofBecky's hair, tied with the pale blue ribbon she had walked four milesto buy, that her present might look its best.
Of course there were more embraces and
kisses, and thanks and lovingwords, before Emily at last lulled herself to sleep planning a Christmasbox, which should supply every wish and want of the entire family if shecould find them out.
Next morning they parted; but these were not mere summer friends, andthey did not lose sight of one another, though their ways lay far apart.Emily had found a new luxury to bring more pleasure into life, a newmedicine to strengthen soul and body; and in helping others, she helpedherself wonderfully.
Becky went steadily on her dutiful way, till the homestead was free, thelads able to work the farm alone, the girls old enough to fill herplace, and the good mother willing to rest at last among her children.Then Becky gave herself to teaching,--a noble task, for which she waswell fitted, and in which