CHAPTER XIV.
The peace of the house was gone. Not, indeed, that quarrelling took itsplace; there was no quarrelling; only an uncomfortable feeling in theair, and looks that were no longer pleased and pleasant. Mrs.Bartholomew wore a discontented face, and behaved so. Judy wassnappish; not a new thing exactly, but it was invariable now. David wasvery quiet and very sober; however in his case the quiet _was_ quiet,and the soberness was very serene; all the old gloom seemed to be gone.Norton, Matilda thought, was cross; and she failed to see the occasion.Even Mrs. Laval looked uncomfortable sometimes, and once remarked toMatilda that it would be pleasant to get back to Shadywalk. And Matildaloved Shadywalk and Briery Bank, but she was not ready with a response.She tried to be very busy with her studies, and hoped that things wouldwork clear by and by. Once she had the curiosity to ask Norton howDavid was getting on at school?
"Well enough," Norton answered shortly.
"Do the boys like him better?"
"Better than what?"
"Why, better than they used to?"
"I don't know. _I_ don't."
"Why not, Norton? O why don't you?"
"No accounting for tastes," Norton replied, rather grumly.
"Does David study well?"
"Yes. He always did."
Norton might have said that David was walking into everything andthrough everything; but he did not say anything of the kind. And sundryother questions that trembled on the tip of Matilda's tongue, onlytrembled there, and never got any further.
Meanwhile Mrs. Binn was not forgotten.
"It's worth anything," David said to Matilda one day that week, "to seethe fellow eat strawberries."
"Strawberries! O did you take strawberries to him!" cried Matilda. "Andhe liked them?"
"You could almost see the red of the strawberries getting up into hischeeks. He's not quite so far as that, though. Like them! He raisedhimself half up and lay on his elbow to eat them. Think of that! Youshould have seen the fellow. Spoons were no go. He just forked them inwith his fingers."
"Does he lie in the entry yet, David?"
"No. His mother has got him into her bit of a room, and the wash tub iswhere he was. I do think we might get him into the country next week,if there was any place he could go to. He's like another boy, with abed under him and clean things and food that he can eat. I do believehe was starving to death. Sick folks can't get along on dry crusts, oreven mush--plain, without butter or molasses," said David smiling.
"David, I have thought of something."
"What is it? Something to help us out of the difficulty?"
"I don't know. See what you think. You heard Miss Redwood and metalking of Lilac lane, and people that live in it?"
"I heard nothing of Lilac lane; never did, till this minute."
"O you were in the study with Mr. Richmond. It is a place in Shadywalkwhere some very poor people live."
"Well?" said David.
"But it is a delightful place compared to Mrs. Binn's tenement house. Iknow some of the people there, and Miss Redwood knows more; and I wasthinking, perhaps she could find a house where they would take Josh inand take care of him till he gets well. Miss Redwood could see to him alittle, you know."
"Why it's a capital idea, Tilly!" cried David. "Did you write and askher?"
"No, but I will."
"Do, to-day. That's just what he wants. Write, Tilly. I must be off tomy work."
Nothing stopped David's work, in these days; indeed he never had beengiven to playing truant. Matilda pondered the matter a little, and thenwrote a letter to Miss Redwood; upon which letter, when it reachedShadywalk, the housekeeper and the minister held consultation. The endwas, that after a week Matilda got an answer which said that the poorfamily opposite Matilda's old Sally in Lilac lane, the same from whomshe had borrowed the teakettle once upon a time, had room to spare andwould gladly take the sick child in and take care of him, for thecompensation which would be offered. Miss Redwood also engaged herselfto see that proper care was had and proper food given; and in short theway was clear.
"That will do," said David when he had read the letter. "Now, the thingis to get him up there."
"Is Mrs. Binn willing?"
"She is one of the willingest persons you ever saw in your life."
"Well, how will you manage, David?"
"I don't see any way but to go myself."
"Go up to Shadywalk, you mean, to take the child there?"
"Yes."
"O, David, would you! And could you?"
"I don't see any other way."
"But school? will you miss a day?"
"Can't do that; and can't even give Saturday, so near the end of term.I'll manage it."
"How, David?"
"Go up after school some day, and take a night train down."
"Is Josh--I mean, has he any clothes fit to travel in?"
"He has not any fit to sit up in at home. Never mind, I'll manage that,Tilly."
"David, you tell me some of the things he wants, and I'll get SarahStaples and her mother to make them."
"Well.--But I'll pay charges, Tilly; I don't believe you've got much inthat little pocket of yours."
This consultation was private; and in private the new clothes forJoshua Binn were procured and got ready; very plain and coarse clothes,for David and Matilda were learning how much there was to do with theirmoney. All this caused no remark, not being open to it. But when Davidtook little Josh, wrapped up in an old cloak of his, and drove with himin a carriage to the station, and took the cars with him to Shadywalk,there was a general outcry and burst of astonishment and indignation.David was at breakfast the next morning as usual; and the storm fellupon him.
"I wonder how you feel this morning," said his grandmother, half indispleasure and half in sympathy; for David was a favourite.
"After travelling all night," added Mrs. Laval.
"Up to study, Davy?" asked Norton.
"I am so astonished at you, David, that I do not know how to speak,"began his mother. "_You_--always until now a refined, gentlemanlyboy,--_you_ to turn yourself into a head hospital nurse, and PoorSociety agent! travelling in company with the lowest riff-raff! I don'tknow what to make of you. Really, I am in despair."
"He always was a poke," said Judy; "and now he's a poor poke."
"It is too bad!" echoed Mrs. Laval; "though _that_ isn't true, Judy."
"He's a spoiled boy," said Judy. "I wash my hands of him. I hope he'llwash _his_ hands."
"The idea!" said Mrs. Bartholomew. "As if there was nobody else in theworld to look after sick children, but Davy must leave his own businessand go nursing them in the cars! I wouldn't have had anybody see himfor a thousand dollars."
"What harm, mamma?" asked David coolly.
"Harm?" repeated Mrs. Bartholomew. "Is it _your_ business to take allsick New York and all poor New York on your hands, and send them towatering places?"
"One poor little child?" said David.
"No matter; what's the use of sending one, if you don't send the otherhundred thousand? Is it your business, David Bartholomew?"
"Hardly, mamma. But I thought the one was my business."
"There you were mistaken. There are two or three poor societies; it isfor them to look after these cases. What is the use of having poorsocieties, if we are to do the work ourselves? So low! so undignified!so degrading! just ask any minister,--ask Dr. Blandford,--what hethinks."
"David don't care, mamma," said Judy. "David never cares what anybodythinks."
"Very wrong, then," said Mrs. Bartholomew; "every right-feeling personcares what other people think. How is the world to get along? David, Idon't know you any more, you are so changed."
"Yes, mamma," said David; "perhaps I am."
"Perhaps you are? Why my patience!"--
"Your patience seems to have given out, daughter," said Mrs. Lloyd."Come, let Davy eat his breakfast."
"He's eating it," said Judy. "Nothing will hurt David's appetite."
"I should think nursing poor folks out of tenement houses might,"observed Mrs. Bartholomew. "It would once."
"I can't imagine, mamma," said Judy, "how we are going to live togetherin future. David isn't our sort any more. Life looks dark to me."
"If it was anybody but David," said Mrs. Bartholomew, "I should say hewould grow out of it. Any other young fool would."
"Grow out of what, mamma?" David asked.
"Grow out of the notion of being an agent of the poor societies. It'stoo disgusting!"
"Mamma," he said, and he said it with such an unruffled face thatMatilda was comforted, "the poor society would not have done what I didlast night. And I am not doing it for the poor societies, but for theKing Messiah. I am His agent; that's all."
"Where did you get your commission?" Norton asked.
David hesitated, and then said, "Whatsoever ye would that men should doto you--"
"But that's absolute nonsense!" exclaimed Mrs. Bartholomew.
"What, mamma?" said David, lifting his eyes to her face.
"I mean, of course, the words are not nonsense, but putting such ameaning to them."
"What meaning do you think belongs to them, then, mamma?"
"Why," said Mrs. Bartholomew in high dudgeon, "if you are to take them_so_, then we ought to send our carriage to take poor people to drive,and we ought to give our grapes and our wine to sick people, instead ofeating them ourselves; and I ought to sell my diamonds and change theminto bread and coffee and feather beds, I suppose; and our silks andlaces ought to go for rents and firing for those who are in want."
"Well, mother?" said David.
"Well; is _that_ what you mean?"
"That's what the words mean, if they mean anything, mamma. I think theKing wants all we have got, to be used in his work; and all mine heshall have."
There was no braggadocio, but a sweet steadfastness in the words andmanner which impressed all his hearers; though it impressed themdifferently.
"Mother, what do you think of him?" Mrs. Bartholomew said, apparentlyin despair.
"I don't know what to think, child," said the old lady. "I am puzzled."
"About me, grandmamma?" asked David.
"No, boy; I never was puzzled about you, and I am not now."
"We'll have grandma going over next!" exclaimed Judy, "andthen--What'll be then, mamma? Will this be a hospital, grandmamma? Ishouldn't like to live here in that case, because of the fevers. Ideclare, I'm very sorry! Will David be the doctor or the minister,grandmamma?"
"Hush, Judy!" said her mother. "Things are bad enough without you."
"There's one thing, you vexatious boy," said Judy; "your uncles willgive you up."
"They have done that already," said David quietly.
"Have they? O have they really, mamma? Then they won't give him theirmoney when they die! nor me neither. You hateful fellow! to go and makeme poor as well as yourself." And Judy began to cry. "I thought we'd beso rich, mamma!"
"Do hold your tongue, Judy," said her mother. "You've got enough, andDavid much more than enough."
But with this the uncomfortable breakfast party broke up.
"Matilda," said Mrs. Laval when they had gone upstairs,--"I don't knowwhether you have done good or harm."
"She's done no good, mamma," said Norton. "Just look at Davy. And I cantell you, grandmamma is beginning to read the Bible to herself; I'veseen her at it."
"But I haven't done anything, mamma," said Matilda.
"Well, my dear, I don't know who has, then," Mrs. Laval replied.
And the subject was dropped. But certainly Mrs. Lloyd did begin afterthat to ask Matilda now and then, when they were alone, to read to her;and Matilda found that David did it constantly, by his grandmother'sdesire, in her own room.
The weeks were few now to the time when the household would break up;Mrs. Laval and her children to return to Briery Bank, Mrs. Bartholomewand hers for a cottage at Newport. Mrs. Lloyd was accustomed to abidegenerally with the latter. All the members of the family were busiedwith their various preparations; and the unsettled feeling of comingchange was upon the whole household. Little else was thought of. Sowhen an invitation came from the mother of Esther Francis, that all theyoung ones should join a party of pleasure that were going to spend theday in Westchester, it was a very unlooked for variety in the generalcourse of things. Of course they would go. The young people were to eatstrawberries and do everything else that was pleasant, at GeneralFrancis's place. Mrs. Francis was not yet ready to leave town; therewas nobody in possession but the servants; the widest liberty would bethe rule of the day.
"How nice that the boys are out of school!" said Matilda. "Term justended."
"Of course. Couldn't have the party without the people," said Judy.
"Will there be a great many, Norton?" Matilda asked.
"Don't know anything about it. You must ask somebody else. EstherFrancis isn't our cousin."
"How dry you are," said David. "I know no more about it, Matilda, thanhe does."
"Esther said there would be twenty or thirty," said Judy. "How are wegoing? that's what I want to know."
"Take the Harlem railroad to the station," said Norton, "and drive therest. That's the way you always go to General Francis's. Mamma! I'dlike to drive Pink out. It's only thirteen miles."
"I'm afraid, Norton. I think you had better all go together."
Norton grumbled a little; however, it was good enough even so.
The day was the first of June; fresh and sweet as the first of Juneshould be. The four were in the cars early; and as soon as the trainhad got quit of the city, the sights and smells of the country rousedMatilda to the highest pitch of delight. Such green fields! such bluesky! such delicious air! and such varieties of pleasant objects thatshe had not seen for some time! The rush to the station was one whirlof pleasure; then the pleasure grew greater, for they got into acarriage to drive across the country. Every foot of the way, though itwas not through a very enchanting landscape, was joyous to Matilda'svision; and when the grounds were reached of General Francis's villa,there was nothing more left in this world to desire. For there wereplantations of trees, extending far and wide, with roads and paths cutthrough them; over which the young fresh foliage cast the sweetest ofshadow. There were meadows, broad and fair, green and smooth, with alittle river winding along in them, and scattered trees here and therefor shade, and fringes of willows and alders to the sides of thestream. And at a little distance stood the large old house, with grovesof trees encircling it and lawns before and on one side of it; and onthe side lawn, in the edge of the grove, long tables set and spreadwith damask.
"Dinner already?" queried Norton. "I am hungry enough."
"Dinner at ten o' clock!" cried Judy. "Breakfast, you mean."
"Esther, is it breakfast?" asked Norton, as their little hostess cameto them.
"It is what you like, Mr. Laval," said the little lady; whose pink bowswere not more in style than her manners.
"Norton is hungry, Esther," David remarked.
"I hope you are, too."
"What are you going to give us, Esther?" said Judy eagerly. "We are alllike bears. Strawberries?"
"We must wait for another carriage. The Grandsons are coming."
"I wouldn't wait," said Judy. "What's the use? Ten o' clock is lateenough for breakfast."
"But we shall not have the collation till three."
"What have you got for breakfast?"
"Coffee."
"And strawberries?"
"Haven't you had any strawberries this year?"
"Lots; but not in the country, you know, where they grow."
"And not with such yellow cream as we have got from our dairy."
"Will you have cream enough for all, Esther?" David asked, as cominground the house they saw a small crowd of young people collected nearthe tables. Esther smiled and bridled, and then there was no moreprivate talk, but a whole chorus of greetings and questions andanswers. And then another carriage
drew up, with the missing Grandsons;and the party went to breakfast.
It seemed to Matilda that to eat under the shadow of trees, and on thecarpet of the grass, and with the music of leaves and insects andbreezes, was the very most delightful thing that could be invented. Shewas very hungry, no doubt; and Mrs. Francis's excellent cook had madecapital provision for her young mistress; but besides all that, howpretty it was! The light flickered through the oak leaves upon thewhite tablecloths, and gleamed from china and glass and silver in themost cheery way; it gleamed upon the little river too and upon theblades of grass on the lawn. Out there the sunshine was full; the eyewent across to the scattered trees and to the further woods on theother side; a great promising playground it looked. And then the airwas so sweet and fresh. Matilda was not seated very well for herpleasure; nobody near that she knew very well; nevertheless she eat herstrawberries and cream and devoured rolls and butter with a contentedappreciation of what she had, and an amused observation of what wasaround her.
How were they to spend the day?
This question received earnest attention as soon as the business ofbreakfast was off their hands.
"Day is pretty well gone already," said Norton consulting his watch."It is twelve o' clock. There is not time for anything else but to havedinner and go home."
"We do not dine till four o' clock," Esther announced.
"Four hours," said somebody. "Time enough to get hungry again. I'lltake anybody that wants to go a row on the river; if somebody'll helpme row."
"Everybody do what everybody likes until three o' clock," said Esther."Suppose then, at three o' clock, we all gather in the pavilion andhave games?"
Unanimous acceptance of this proposal. Then a flutter and division andscattering of the little crowd.
Matilda wondered what _she_ would do, or be asked to do. She would haveliked the sail on the Bronx; but so would a good many more. The littleboat was very soon filled with the eager applicants, and Davidvolunteered to help row it. One of Matilda's friends was thus removedfrom her. She turned to look for Norton. He was not to be seen. Ageneral stampede of the boys to the stables made it supposable that hewas in the midst of the gay little group rushing that way. Matildalooked around her. The tables were deserted; the little boat haddisappeared up the stream; all the boys were gone; and one or twogroups of girls, unknown to her, were loitering over the grass towardsthe house. A flush of vexation and embarrassment came over Matilda. Wasthis civility? and what was she to do with herself for three hours tocome? And how disagreeable, to be regarded as of no consequence and noconcern to anybody. Tears swelled in their fountains, but Matilda wasnot going to cry. She would not linger alone by the table; she did notknow her way in the house, and besides would not seek those who shouldproperly seek her; she turned her steps to the little river. Theflowing water had a great charm for her; the bank was smooth and green;she wandered along till she came to what she called a nice place, wherea young willow hung over and dipped its long branches in, and the bankoffered a soft shady seat. Matilda sat down, and felt very lonely. Butglimpses taken through the trees and shrubbery shewed her nobody nearor far, except the servants; and Matilda resolved to be quiet and waitfor better things by and by. She looked at her watch; it was half pasttwelve. I am bound to confess it was a good half hour more beforeMatilda could get the better of a desperate fit of disappointment andvexation. She had not counted upon spending her holiday in this manner;and slights and unkindness are pleasant to nobody. There is somethingin use, however, and more in a quiet mind. The little girl's roiledfeelings at last ran clear again; and she began to enjoy things afterher own fashion.
The ripple and flow of that water was certainly delicious; it made onecool only to hear it. She could get down to the brink too andcautiously dip her hand in. There were little fishes in a shallowthere; their play and movement were very amusing, and Matilda went intodeep speculation about how much they knew, and what they felt, and whattheir manner of life amounted to, and how they probably regarded thestrange creature looking down at them. Very much she wondered what theycould eat to live upon. The water plants that grew along the stream hadMatilda's attention too, and the mosses that covered the stones. Andone or two grasshoppers finally proved a great source of entertainment.She quite forgot to feel lonely, and was taking her enjoyment in a veryharmonious way; when she heard a different swash of the water and thedip of oars, and the boat shot round a curve and came down the stream.She watched it, wondering whether its crew would see her. Just oppositeher willow the oars stopped.
"Is that you, Tilly?" David cried.
A small "yes" came from the bank.
"What are you doing there?"
"O, amusing myself."
"Where is everybody else?"
"I don't know."
"Where's Norton?"
"I don't know. I think he went to see the horses."
"Come down to the landing," said David after a moment's pause.
Matilda nodded, and the boat shot forward again. It had turns to takefollowing the course of the stream; while she on the land could cutacross points, and she reached the landing place the first.
The little party landed with cries of pleasure, and the next thing, setoff on a run for the house. David purposely hung back, so that he andMatilda in a few minutes were behind all the others.
"Where is everybody?" inquired David.
"I don't know."
"What have you been doing all this while?"
"It was very pretty down by the water, David. I didn't mind;--at least,not after the first. It was very pleasant there."
"All alone?"
"Yes; except the fishes and the grasshoppers."
"Well--I shall cut out the fishes now."
David kept his word. A deputation of the boys met them and begged himto go where the others were riding. David went, but kept hold ofMatilda's hand, though warned that "the girls" were finding otheramusements in the house. Matilda was taken into the meadow where theboys and the horses were congregated; a safe seat was found for her onthe wall, from whence she could survey the whole field; and thoughDavid took his share in the amusements that followed, riding and racingwith the other boys, he never let her feel herself forgotten or alone;stopping his horse every now and then in front of her to say somethingand find out if she was happy. Matilda was very happy, greatly amused,and intensely pleased that David had constituted himself her protector.The hours sped along; the soft June sun was never too hot; the littlewhite clouds that crossed the sky cast shadows not needed for the busypleasure seekers, nor even for the quiet spectator. At last Matildaheard a shout behind her.
CHAPTER XV.
"What _are_ you doing, you boyish girl?" It was Judy, at the head ofthe whole bevy of young ones from the house.
"I didn't know what had become of you, Matilda," said Esther.
"Come down!" said Judy. "What business have you there? Who asked you towatch the boys? Why don't you come down? On the wall, too! Estherdidn't invite you there."
"Esther didn't invite me anywhere," said Matilda, with the oldinevitable set of her head, which said much more than the little girlknew. Esther felt it, and Judy was incensed.
"I _would_ be ashamed, if I were you," she said. "Tell the boys, willyou, that we are ready for the games. Call somebody. Shout! now you areup there, make yourself useful."
Matilda preferred not to shout. Instead of that, she waved herhandkerchief. David rode up, the message was given. Then Norton came tohelp Matilda down from the wall; and soon the whole party gathered inthe pavilion. This was rather more than a summer house; a large saloon,with windows and glass doors on all sides, furnished with lounges andeasy chairs and tables, with a carpet on the floor, and kept with allthe nicety of the house itself. Warm and tired and happy, the littlecompany was ready for quiet amusements; and they played games ofvarious kinds until the gong called them to dinner. That was to havebeen the end of the day's entertainment; but a storm had come up whilethey were at the table, and the rain fel
l too abundantly to let anybodyleave the house except those who could go in close carriages. A fewwere thus drafted off, belonging to neighbouring families; a goodlylittle company still remained who were forced to accept thehousekeeper's hospitalities for the night. That was additional funrather than inconvenience, so voted and so accepted. However, as theday began to close in and a lull fell upon all their pleasure-seeking,it began to appear that the little people were tired. Naturally; theyhad worked hard all day. Voices changed their tone.
"Oh dear! I wish it wouldn't rain!" cried one young lady, pressing herface against the window, down the outside of which the streams of raindrops were running fast.
"Might as well wish something else, Carrie, while you are about it,"Norton said.
"I can't!"
"I wish I was home," said another.
"Wait till to-morrow, and you will have your wish."
"But I don't want to wait."
"Don't you know some new games, Esther?"
This sort of thing went on for some time till tea and cake made adiversion, and lights were brought. Then the cry was, "What shall we doall the rest of the evening?"
"I have a game for you," said David at last.
"What is it? what is it?"
"A new game."
"What _is_ it?"
"It is called, 'Capital and Interest.'"
"I don't understand that," pouted one of the young ladies.
"You will understand it fast enough, when we come to play it."
"How do you play it?"
"You must choose a Judge and a Recorder."
"What's a Recorder?"
"Some one to put down what we say. We all tell our business; theRecorder sets it down, and the Judge says whose business is worth themost."
"How can he tell?"
"He can hear what we say, and he can use his judgment, as we all can."
"Must we tell the truth? or say what we have a mind?"
"Either you like."
"That's jolly!" said one of the boys. "I go in for saying what we havea mind."
"Just imagine the nicest things you can," David went on.
"To eat?" said Esther.
"No, no; you've done enough of that to-day," said Norton. "Imagine whatyou have a mind to,--every sort of thing that's pleasant."
"Well you begin, Norton, because you understand it. We'll hear youplay, and so learn."
"We have got to choose the Judge first. And the Recorder."
"What's the Judge to do?"
"Say who has made the best business."
"I don't understand a bit of it," said Esther.
"No, but you will presently. You'll see. Wait till we begin. Who willyou have for Judge?"
There was a general cry of "David Bartholomew!"
"No," said David, "I won't be Judge. I'll be Recorder, if you like. ForJudge, I propose Norton Laval."
Norton was agreed upon unanimously.
"Now we are ready. Esther, we will begin at you. Tell what you have, orwhat you would like to have; and then, what you would do with it, oruse it for."
"I don't know what you mean," said Esther.
"You are not tied to facts. Tell what you like. What would you mostlike?"
"Most like?" repeated Esther. "Let me see. It's very hard to begin withme, when I don't know the game. Let us see. I think I should like tohave the most beautiful diamonds in New York."
"Very good," said Norton. "Now tell what you would do with them."
"Do with them? Why, wear them, of course."
"Of course," said Norton. "But the diamonds are your capital, youunderstand; what interest will you get for your capital? What _good_will they do you, Esther? that's it."
"What good?" said Esther. "Why, if I had the finest jewels of anybody,don't you see I should outshine everybody?"
"I don't see it," said Norton; "but then I'm not in that line. It's_your_ business we are talking of. Put it down properly, Recorder. NowBob Francis--what's your idea of a jolly life, eh?"
"_I_ don't know!" said Bob. He was a year older than his sister; not ayear brighter.
"O yes, you do. Fancy--but I don't believe you _can_ fancy. What wouldyou like best, Bob?--come!"
"I'd like as well as anything to be a cavalry officer, and have nothingto do but ride."
"A cavalry officer has a great deal to do, I can tell you, my finefellow, besides riding," said David.
"O well; _I_ don't want to have anything else to do," said Bob. "I'dcut school; it's a bore."
"But you can't ride always. What will be the good of your riding whenyou are sick, or get old?"
"O then I'll die," said Bob contentedly.
"Let it stand, Davy," said Norton. "Write him down, with a horse and asaddle for his capital and riding his business. Who's next? HattyDelaplaine! What will _you_ have?"
Hatty, a pale, freckled girl, with twinkling gray eyes, was ready withher answer.
"I'd like to have Stewart's store, all to myself, and a dressmaker."
"The dressmaker all to yourself too, I suppose. Girls are the queerestthings!" said Norton.
"Not a bit queerer than boys," spoke up Judy.
"Well,--see if the present game does not prove them so," said Norton."What'll you do with Stewart's and a dressmaker, Hatty Delaplaine?"
"Don't you see? I'd never wear the same dress twice, and I wouldn'thave the same for breakfast or luncheon or dinner; and I would have themost beautiful dresses that ever were seen."
"What would you do with them, after once wearing?" David asked.
"O I should never know and never care. My maid would dispose of them, Isuppose. I should have enough to do to think of the new ones. But I_do_ love costumes!" the girl added, clasping her hands.
"Is that a 'costume' you have got on?" Norton asked.
"Nonsense! it isn't anything. I haven't got Stewart's and my dressmakeryet. When I have, you'll know it."
"Juliet Bracebridge!--speak if you please. I'm finished," said Norton."This is the richest game I've seen yet. Juliet?--"
"I think I should like a perfect little carriage, and a perfect pair ofhorses, and to go driving over the world."
"Where?" said Norton. "You mean, over the Central Park and theBoulevards."
"No, I don't. I mean what I say."
"Bad roads in some places," said Norton. "Up Vesuvius, for instance; orover Mont Blanc in winter. Greece is dangerous, and--"
"Don't talk nonsense, Norton Laval. Of course I should drive where Icould drive, and would like to drive. Over Mont Blanc in winter,indeed!"
"Well, come to business. A perfect pair of horses and perfectcarriage,--that's your capital; and you'll go driving all over. Whatwill be the interest on your capital, do you think? in other words,what will you take by it?"
"I should always have a variety, don't you see, and not have time toget tired of anything."
"Are there roads enough in the world to last you?" said Norton. "Ideclare! these girls--Joe Benton, give us your mind."
"I'll make a fortune, Norton."
"All right. What'll you do with it?"
"I'll have the best house, and the handsomest wife, and the largestestate in the country."
"You'll buy your wife with your money?" asked Judy.
"Easy,"--said Joe, grinning.
"I don't care--'twont be _me_," said Judy. "I pity the woman."
"Why?" said Joe. "She'll have everything she wants, too."
"Excepting the right person," said Judy.
"Well I don't care; it _won't_ be you," said Joe; "so you may say whatyou like."
"I would if it was," said Judy.
But a chorus of laughter broke them off.
"Judy's next," said Norton. "I should like to hear what you will say,Judy."
"I should like to be a queen," said Judy.
"That's it! Go to the top at once. Well, you've got to show why. Whatwould you do if you were a queen?"
"I'd put down all preaching and praying, and people's making fools ofthemselves
with giving away their money to poor folks, and nursing sickfolks, and all the rest of it."
"Why Judy!" exclaimed one or two. "You'd stop preaching?"
"Wouldn't you be sorry!" said Judy.
"No, but really. Wouldn't you let people be ministers?"
"Ministers like Dr. Blandford. He don't give away his money, I'll bebound; and he likes his glass of wine and smokes his pipe like otherfolks."
"He don't smoke a _pipe_, Judy."
"You know what I mean. If I had said he likes his _grog_, you wouldn'thave thought it was made of gin, would you?"
"So you'd be a queen, to stop religious toleration?" said Norton.
"I'd stop _any_," said Judy. "I don't care whether it's religious ornot."
"But what's given you such a spite at religious people?" asked Esther.
"Mean!" said Judy. "Artful. Conceited to death. Stupid. And insane."
There was again a chorus of "Oh Judy!"'s.
"Never mind," said Norton. "When she's queen, I'll sell out and buy anestate in some other country. Who's next?"
"I knew you'd be sneaking along presently, at the tail of some blackcoat or other," Judy responded. "It's in you. The disease'll break out."
"I don't know what's in me," said Norton. "Something that makes me hot.I'm afraid it isn't religious. Roswell Holt, what's your idea ofcapital and business? Do leave Judy to her own fancies. This game'sgetting to be warm work. Roswell!--it's your turn."
"I believe," Roswell began sedately; he was an older boy than most ofthem and very quiet; "I believe, what I should like would be, to knowall the languages there are in the world; and then to have a library solarge that all the books in the world should be in it."
"Capital!" said Norton. "What good would that do you?"
"Why, I could read everything," said Roswell.
"And what good would _that_ do you?"
"I should like it," said Roswell. "I should have what I like."
"Solomon tried that once," said David, who was taking diligently hisreporter's notes. "It didn't seem to answer then."
"Ah, but there were not so many books in his day," said Roswell.
"The worse for you, I should say. Besides, there are not so many now asthere will be a thousand years hence. How about that, old fellow?"
"I can't read what there'll be a thousand years hence," said Roswell.
"You couldn't read what there are now, if you had them. You could notlive long enough."
"What a musty old fogy he would be, by the time he had gone halfthrough!" said Judy. "He would have used up his eyes; his spectacleswould have made a ridge on his nose; he would live in an old coat thatwas never brushed; and his books would be all coffee stains, because hewould take his breakfast over them. Poor old creature!"
"You'll be old then yourself, Judy," said some one.
"I won t," said the young lady promptly. "I mean to keep young."
"Ben Johnson--go ahead," said Norton. "It's your turn."
"I'd like to go supercargo in the China trade," said Ben; alively-looking fellow enough.
"Good," said Norton. "Say why. Love of the sea wouldn't take you toChina, I suppose."
"Not exactly," said Ben, with a confidential gleam in his eyes. "Ishould have nothing to do--and smoke seventy cigars a day."
"Seventy cigars!" cried out two or three of the girls. "Horrid!"
"You couldn't do it, old fellow."
"Easy," said Ben. "My cousins, Will Larkins and Dan Boston, did itevery day."
"They must be of a practical turn of mind, I should think," saidNorton. "They meant their voyage should pay--somebody--and so concludedit should be the tobacconist. Lucy Ellis--?"
"I should like to be very beautiful," said the girl, who had somepretensions that way already, or she wouldn't have said it inpublic,--"and have everybody love me."
"Everybody!" cried Judy. "All the boys, you mean."
"No indeed," said the beauty with a toss of her head. "I mean all the_men_."
"But people don't love people because they are handsome," said Norton.
"Don't they, though!" said Ben Johnson, who was a beauty in his way; asindeed so also was Norton. But here arose a furious debate of thequestion, in which almost everybody took part excepting David andMatilda. Laughing and shouting and discussing, the original game wasalmost lost sight of; and David sat with his pen in his hand, andMatilda listened in wondering amusement, while the negative and theaffirmative of the proposition were urged and argued and fought for. Atlast Norton appealed.
"What do you think, David?"
"What do you think of our game?"
"I had forgot it, that's a fact," said Norton. "Who's next? O comealong, we'll never settle that question. Who's next? Pink, I believe itis you. Matilda Laval! what's your capital and business?"
"Now you'll get a queer one," said Judy.
"It won't be the first, by some," said Norton; "that's one thing."
"This'll be a good one. Oh, ever so good!" said Judy.
"It won't be anything, if you can't hush," said Norton impatiently."Come, Pink, whatever it is, let us have it. What's your fancy?"
"I should like to have a medicine that would be sure to cure," saidMatilda.
"A medicine!" cried Norton.
"She'd be a doctor," exclaimed Judy with a burst of laughter.
"What for, Pink?"
"I would go round, making sick people well."
"Beautiful, ain't it?" said Judy. "O we have such lots of goodness inour house, you wouldn't know it; and I don't know it my self. Fact is,it confuses me."
"Bill Langridge?"
"Governor of the State,"--called out Bill in reply.
"Why don't you say 'Sultan of Muscat,' at once?"
"Don't know Muscat--and don't care about governing where I'm astranger. Might make mistakes, you see."
"Well--what's the good in being Governor of the State?--to you?"
"Having things my own way, don't you see? and at top of everything."
"There's the President, and all his secretaries," said Norton.
"They're not in my way. In the State, you know, nobody is over theGovernor."
"That's what you call a moderate ambition," said David.
"Aims pretty high," said Bill.
"Not high enough," said another boy. "I'd choose to be commander inchief of the army."
"How's that any higher, Watson?" said Bill.
"Military rule," said Watson. "Your Governor has to consult this oneand 'tother one, and go by the Legislature too, when all's done; thecommander in chief asks leave of nobody."
"Well, Elisha Peters, what's _your_ ambition?" called out Norton.
"I'd like a little money,--enough, you know, not too much; and to gotravelling all over the world on foot."
"On foot!" said Norton. "What would you get out of that?"
"I should see everything. Not part, you know, as everybody does; Ishould see everything."
"What would you do, Elisha, when you had got to the end ofeverything?--seen it all?"
"Don't believe I could. The world's big enough to last one man."
"Don't know but what it is," said Norton. "Will you write a book?"
"Guess not. Take too much time."
"Then the travelling would do nobody good but you?" said David.
"Who else should it?" replied Elisha.
"The _book_ would do nobody any good, if he were to write it,"suggested Judy.
"Polite"--said Elisha.
"Selfish"--retorted Judy.
"Everybody is selfish," returned the young cynic.
"'Tain't true," said Norton; "but I haven't time to argue just now.I've got work enough to do as a judge. Are we most through? I declare,here's half a dozen more to speak. Speak quick, please; and don't sayso many odd things. The judge's work isn't going to be a trifle, inthis court. Dick Morton, go ahead."
"I'd like to be able to do just what I have a mind to," said Dick.
"Bravo! only that's what we're all afte
r. Come a little nearer thepoint, Dick; what'll you do with your time?"
"I'd be a hunter. I'd have first-rate rifles, you know, and pistols,and all that; and people to help; and I'd just go hunting. I'd killbuffaloes in the West till I had enough of that, and take a turn at abear or so; then I'd go to Africa and have a royal time with therhinoceros and lions, and maybe crocodiles. I'd spend a good while inAfrica. Elephants, too. Then I'd cross over to India and hunt tigers.I'd chase ostriches too."
"Not in India," said David.
"I didn't say, in India; but where they are. Deer of course,everywhere; and chamois, and all that."
"Birds?" suggested Norton.
"O yes, by the way, you know. I'd live upon ducks and snipe and wildturkey."
"When you weren't eating venison and buffalo hump," said David.
"Well--I'd have variety enough," said Dick. "I tell you! a hunter'ssupper is jolly."
"All alone?" said Esther.
"Another specimen of selfishness," said Judy. "They're all alike as twopears--only some of 'em are green, and the others a different colour."
"That's _your_ business," said Norton summing up; "now what's the goodof it, Dick?"
"Fun. What's the good of anything?"
"To be sure," said the Judge. "Julie Simpson?"
But Julie wriggled and simpered, and could not be got to expressherself otherwise. The sayings of several next corning were only echoesof some one or other of those who had spoken. Norton grew impatient.
"That'll do," he said; "now for the Recorder. It's time the Judgefinished up. The best part of the play comes after."
"What's that?" said somebody; "what comes after? I thought this was thewhole."
"You wouldn't catch me playing 'Capital and Interest' very often, if itwas," said Norton. "No; the best business man, or the one who has thebest business, is to appoint forfeits to all the rest; and if he knowshow to do it, I tell you! that's fun."
"But how are we to decide who has the best business?"
"Can't! The Judge does that. Go ahead, David. What's _your_ business?"
"I wish it was peddling old shoes!" said Judy.
"Why?" several asked.
"It won't be anything as respectable. We've taken to turning old coatsat our house."
"Go ahead, Davy!" cried Norton.
But David was deliberate about it. He finished his writing, and lookedup.
"I think my capital is _myself_," he said with a smile. "I mean to makethe most of _myself_, in every way I can think of; as well as of mymoney, and whatever else I have got."
"Don't sound so bad," said Elisha looking at Judy.
"Well Davy," said Norton; "what are you going to do with yourself,after you have made the most you can of it?"
"I am the servant of the King Messiah," said David with a smile again;"myself and all I have belong to him, and I want to make the most ofthem for Jesus and his work and his Kingdom. They are the talents Hehas given me to work with. And when the King comes to take account ofme, I want to be able to say, 'Lord, thy pound hath gained fivepounds.'"
The little people were silent. David spoke so simply and in sobusiness-like fashion, there was no game to be made of his words; andnothing was said, till Norton remarked he did not know what he wasgoing to do; he could not remember one half that had been said for himto pass judgment upon.
"I've got it all here," said David. "Take your seat, and begin; I'llread you two, and you choose the best in your judgment of those; thentake another and compare with that, and so on."
"Well," said Norton. "Get along, David. It s a pesky business, thisbeing judge, I can tell you."
"Silence in the court!" said David. "Esther Francis; capital, the mostbeautiful diamonds in New York; interest, she outshines everybody."
"Next"--said Norton.
"I didn't say that, did I?" asked Esther.
"Of course you said that; he's got it down. Next, David?"
"Bob Francis. Capital, a cavalry officer's commission and a horse.Interest, he'll ride."
"Ha! ha! ha!" laughed a round chorus of the children.
"Silence in the court!" repeated David. "We wait for the Judge'sdecision."
"Hm!--I wish you had it to do!" growled Norton, rubbing his head."Which is the best business of those two? Well, between diamonds andhorses, if you're shut up to them, I think a horse is the best stock intrade."
"But the _business_--the interest," said Bob. "Ain't riding like a manbetter than sitting or dressing to be stared at like a woman?"
"I think it's the most manly," Norton repeated.
"But not the most womanly?" said Esther.
"No, not the most womanly."
"Well, which is _best?_" somebody cried.
"Riding is the best for me," said Norton. "I should feel like a fool indiamonds."
"A Hindoo rajah, or a Persian shah, or an Arab emir wouldn't feel so,"suggested David.
"I am not a Hindoo nor an Arab, though," said Norton. "If I am to givejudgment I'll give it like a good American. And I say, that a saddle isbetter than a jewel-box any day; and it's better in my judgment to ridefor one's life, than to make people's eyes wink with looking at you. Goon, Recorder!"
"Hatty Delaplaine. Capital, a dressmaker and dry-goods unlimited.Interest, nothing but new dresses."
"Riding is better than dressing," said the Judge. "Bob Francis has ityet."
"But why is it better?" asked Miss Hatty. The Judge was a little at aloss.
"I tell you what," said he, "my business is hard enough as it is; Ican't stand any aggravations. I'll take the sense of the assembly. Allwho say as I do, hold up their hands."
But it was found that the judgments were essentially masculine andfeminine; the girls sided with Hatty, the boys with Bob.
"There's most good to be done by riding," said Norton.
"There ain't!" said Judy. "Dressing encourages the working people."
"And there's no good in riding at the head of soldiers," said Hatty.
"Well, it is a more noble occupation," said Norton.
"I don't see the nobility!" said Roswell Holt.
"Well, I don't care!" said Norton. "Let them both stand together then.I hope there'll be something more remarkable than either of 'em."
"Juliet Bracebridge. A carriage and horses. Will drive all over theworld. Thinks she'll never know ennui."
"Juliet has it," said the Judge. "That's better than just riding ordressing for its own sake. I'd like driving over the world myself. Whatnext?"
"Joe Benton. Will have a fortune. Interest, wife, house, and estatebetter than anybody else."
"I don't believe the best wife _can_ be bought," said Roswell.
"And the best house for you mightn't be the best house for me," saidJudy.
"He didn't mean it for you, Judy," said her cousin Bob.
"Judge'll never get through, if you don't stop these civilities," saidNorton. "I decide for Joe. No, I don't! I decide for Juliet. Nicer togo contentedly travelling all over, than to take all one's comfort inone's pride. Juliet has it yet."
"Judy Bartholomew. Will have a queen's power, and the use of it is toput down religious freedom in her dominions."
"Juliet has it!" shouted Norton. "Better amuse yourself _not_ at otherpeople's expense, I think, if you can manage it."
"Roswell Holt; all books in all languages, and power to understandthem. Finds the good of his life in reading."
"That sounds sensible," said Norton. "I give it for Roswell overJuliet."
"But why?" urged Juliet.
"There's something in books, you see."
"I am sure there is a good deal in countries and cities and people."
"True," said Norton.
"How's his business better than mine?"
"I don't know. Seems as if it ought to be."
"He pleases himself one way, and I another."
"And I another," said Esther.
"True. But books are books, as I said before. Now there's nothing indiamonds."
/> "There is in travelling," said Juliet again.
"Yes, there is. But the books shew a higher aspiration, MissBracebridge."
"I don't see it," said the young lady pouting.
"Well, when you are Judge, you'll know how easy it is," said Norton."After all, it's only a game. Go ahead, David."
"Ben Johnson. Goes supercargo to China. Object, to do nothing and smokeseventy cigars a day."
"Roswell has it yet," said Norton. "Go ahead."
"Lucy Ellis. Great beauty. Loves to have all men look at her."
"Roswell has it!" cried Norton. "No stop. Go on."
"Matilda Laval. Has a medicine for all ills; and she lives to curepeople."
"Matilda has it," said Norton, in a somewhat lowered tone.
"Bill Langridge. Governor of the State. Object, to have things his ownway."
"Matilda has it!" said the judge judicially.
"Egbert Watson--prefers military to civil rule; therefore chooses to behead of the army instead of the State. Object, same as BillLangridge's."
"Matilda Laval has it," said the Judge. He began somehow to look gloomy.
"Elisha Peters--has freedom to go through the world on foot. Object, isto see everything."
"Matilda Laval has it!" growled the Judge.
"Dick Morton. His capital is rifles, with powder and ball; object inlife, to kill or to hunt and eat wild beasts."
"Don't come near Matilda Lavals," said the Judge.
"Julia Simpson has no object."
"Easy disposed of," said Norton.
"Ned Forsyth agrees with Watson; Mary Fortescue sides with Lucy Ellis;and half a dozen more with Lucy, Roswell Holt, Bill, and MissBracebridge."
"Then there's only you," said Norton gloomily.
"David Bartholomew. Capital, himself and all he has, to be made themost of. Business, to use it all for the King whose servant I am."
"What's the interest?" growled Norton, after a moment's pause. "Butstop! how are you going to use it? you don't tell your business afterall. What are you going to do?"
"I don't know," said David. "The King's will, whatever that is.Whatever he gives me to do."
"The interest?"
"That comes all along the way," said David. "But at the end--I shallinherit all things!"
"Is that a proper way of speaking, David?" said Esther gravely.
"That's the promise," said David.
"He's an old prig, that's what he is!" said one of the boys.
"No," said David, "stop! hear me; you don't understand. In that day theKing will take account of his servants. And to those who can say tohim, 'Lord, thy pound hath gained ten pounds'--or 'five pounds'--hewill say, 'Well done, good and faithful servant; thou hast beenfaithful over a few things; I will make thee ruler over many things;enter thou into the joy of thy Lord.' I want that."
Something about the manner of David's speech stilled the impatientlittle company. David was always much looked up to and somewhat feared;and now he had spoken with a clear and sweet business tone which leftno hold for ridicule. Nobody attempted it; and Judy saw her time wasnot then and kept silence. So did the Judge; too long, some of themthought.
"I suppose Matilda and you are in the same box," he began, "and what Igive to one of you I must give to the other."
"No, no, you mustn't!" was cried in a stream of little voices. "Theydidn't say the same thing at all; you must judge by what they said."
"They both meant the same thing, I know," said Norton; "but if I mustgo by what they said, then David spoke more clearly than Matilda.Bartholomew has it."
"Reasons! reasons!" cried Judy and one or two more; for it was usualfor the Judge to fortify himself thus in the opinions of his littleassembly.
"Well," said Norton, without his usual readiness, "the reasons areplain enough. The best business is what yields the best interest; andyou may judge yourselves, if working for other people isn't nobler thanworking for oneself. And as to the interest,--well, you know,--if youcome to look at it," Norton went on not very lucidly--"_that's_ betterthan _this_."
"What's better than which?" said Judy.
"Come, Judy," said her brother; "what will last, is better than whatwon't last; and all your diamonds cannot compare with 'shining as thestars for ever and ever;' and the King's court will be better than anylittle king's or queen's rule in this world."
There was a general cry now for the forfeits. It fell to David by rightto dispense them. I have not time to tell how witty and how pleasantthey were; but only that they brought every one into good humour longbefore the game was out.
The little party slept at the house, and returned to town by an earlytrain next morning.
"David," said Matilda, catching him a moment by himself after they gothome,--"don't you think Norton is coming round?" She spoke eagerly,anxiously, almost exultingly.
"Give him time, Tilly," said David smiling. "He rather committedhimself last night, I think he will."
Cambridge: Press of John Wilson & Son.
Typographical errors silently corrected:
Chapter 1: =take dancing lessons?"= replaced by =take dancing lessons?=
Chapter 2: =to feel."= replaced by =to feel.=
Chapter 4: =bloom all round.= replaced by =bloom all round."=
Chapter 4: =coffee; they are= replaced by =coffee; "they are=
Chapter 8: ='The Lord said unto= replaced by ="'he lord said unto=
Chapter 11: =a Jew as ever I was--= replaced by =a Jew as ever I was"--
Chapter 12: =nothin' agin the neighbourhood= replaced by =nothin'agin' the neighbourhood=
Chapter 15: =nearer the p'int= replaced by =nearer the point=
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