CHAPTER XVIII.
A PLEASANT SURPRISE
The winter months passed swiftly away with the Greyson family, in their new home, but it was not till the spring opened, and the pleasant sunshine and warm air came again, with their invigorating influences, that Hesper was able to regain any of her former strength and buoyancy of spirits. When the weather was mild, and the sky clear, she would steal out and work for a short time in the little flower garden, but the good doctor still kept his eye on her, and would not suffer her to engage in any fatiguing employment. It happened, fortunately, that there was no need of it, for Hesper’s mother was now so much better, that she could attend to the household duties, and Mr. Greyson, who was constantly employed, earned enough to support them all, comfortably. The doctor had made some extensive purchases in the way of new lands, and what with ploughing and planting, draining meadows and clearing wood-lands, he not only managed to keep Mr. Greyson, but also Fred and Charlie busy. The services of the Grimsby boys too were often required, and though, as might have been expected, a crooked word or a hard look would often pass between them and the young Greysons, yet the promise which they had made to Mose, and the presence of Mr. Byers among them, prevented them from breaking out into open hostilities.
One clear, bright summer day, Mr. Greyson and the boys were at work in a beautiful pine grove – a part of the doctor’s woodland, clearing away the under-brush for the accommodation of a pic-nic, which was to be held there the following week. “Hurrah! hurrah!” shouted Fred all at once, “there comes mother and Hesper.”
Mr. Greyson looked up, at Fred’s exclamation, and throwing down his hatchet, he took off his hat and waved it to them as they came down the green and shady road that led to the grove. “I am right glad to see you,” he said, “though I am afraid it is ‘most too long a walk for two such invalids.”
“O, I have enjoyed every step of the way,” said Hesper, whose cheeks were as richly colored as the wild rose she held in her hand.
“I should think mother would be tired, though, for see, she has brought dinner enough for us all in her basket. We mean to have a little pic-nic of our own, so, while you and the boys are at work, we will spread our table by the spring.”
“I am right glad you thought of that,” said Mr. Greyson, “for I am both tired and hungry, and I shall relish my dinner much better for eating it in pleasant company.” He took the basket to the spring, and then left them to prepare their table. It was a most delightful spot they had chosen, for the grass was soft and green beneath their feet, while up above, the branches of the trees, interwoven with vines, screened them from the rays of the noon-day sun. Then, too, there was a pleasant humming of bees among the fragrant blossoms of the locusts, to which the musical ripple of the spring formed a sweet accord.
Fred and Charlie found it quite impossible to wait until they were called, and the cloth was scarcely spread, before they perched themselves upon the large stones they had provided for seats. It was not long, however, before everything was ready, and Mr. Greyson was summoned.
“I declare,” said he, as he threw himself upon the ground and wiped the perspiration from his brow – “I would not exchange this spot for the palace of a king, and if Mose was only here, I could desire nothing more.”
“Yes,” said Hesper, with a sad smile, “and little Johnny too.”
“Perhaps he is,” replied her mother, “though our poor eyes are not permitted to see his sweet little countenance.” Fred looked up at her thoughtfully, for a moment; then he started up, and rolled his stone a little one side.
“Here, Charlie,” he said, “let him have a place between us, for I like to think he is here.”
“Isn’t there room for one more?” said a pleasant voice, close beside them. They all looked up, and saw Juliana’s face peeping out upon them from the bushes.
“Yes, and welcome,” said Hesper. “But pray how came you here?”
“Why,” said Juliana, “mother stayed at home to-day, so I thought I would just run over and see you. When I came to the house I found no one there, but on my way back I met with Kate Smiley, who told me where you were. I thought, on the whole, I would venture to join your party, for I shall not have so good a chance to be with you again, as I open a school next week. Mother says she can’t earn money enough to supply all my need, so I must see what I can do for myself.”
“And I,” said Hesper, with a smiling countenance, “am going to school next week. Father has promised me that I shall go all summer.”
“Yes,” said Mr. Greyson, “Hesper shall have all she needs, if I work my fingers to the bone, and she shall enjoy her school to her heart’s content, for I mean to make up, if possible, for her working so hard last winter.”
“O dear!” sighed Juliana, as she glanced down at her old dress – “how much I wish that I could go too. But I can’t,” she continued, “so there’s no use fretting about it.”
They were still very much engaged in conversation, and had almost finished their dinner, when they heard the sound of a carriage coming along the road. They looked out from among the trees and saw Capt. Clark with a stranger in his wagon. They wondered who he could be, for they had scarce ever seen a more rough looking personage. His hair and beard were both long and bushy – over his shoulders he carried a stick with a bundle on it, and his clothes looked travel worn and dusty. The Captain stopped his horse just as they arrived at the spring.
“Hallo!” said he, “if here isn’t a gipsey party! Come, friend, let’s join them a few moments.” They both sprang from the wagon, and approached the little group.
“You see, here,” said the Captain, addressing Mr. Greyson and pointing towards the stranger – “a poor traveller, whom I overtook on my way from the city. The cars had started before him, and he was so anxious to reach home that he set out on foot.” Before he could finish speaking, the stranger threw down his stick and bundle, and clasping Juliana around the neck, he kissed her with all his might. The poor girl screamed with surprise, but the next moment she cried out – “father! father!” and returned his salutation with a good will.
Sure enough it was their old friend and neighbor, Mr. Grimsby, though his rude dress had so disguised him that it was difficult to recognize him.
“How is this?” said Mr. Greyson, as he shook hands with him – “we were not looking for you back so soon.”
“Ah!” he replied, “I have had famous luck – better than I could have possibly expected! and as I didn’t want my wife going out a washing, or my children wandering about the streets, while I was so well able to take care of them, I have come home to make them comfortable and happy.”
Juliana was so delighted that she laughed and cried, and scarce knew what to do, in order to express her joy.
“There, now,” said Hesper, “you will let her go to school with me, won’t you?”
“Yes,” said her father, “she shall live like a lady, dress like a queen, and be educated like a professor, if she wants to, for I am able to do it, and mean that there shall be one Grimsby, at least, who shall make a show in the world. So come along my girl, let’s go to your mother and the boys, and see if they like my looks as well as you do.”
Capt. Clark helped her into his wagon, with Mrs. Greyson and Hesper, who were right glad of this opportunity to ride home. Away they all started, with happy hearts and smiling countenances, while Mr. Greyson and the boys, who remained behind, sent three parting cheers after them.
CHAPTER XIX.
MR. BYERS ON MATRIMONY
Hesper had at length completed her seventeenth year, but her early discipline of sorrow and toil had given her a judgment and experience far beyond that age. During the time that she attended school, a friendship had sprung up between her and Alice Smiley, the doctor’s youngest daughter. They were often together, and nothing could delight these girls more, than to secure Mr. Byers’ company in some of their walks, for his sage remarks and peculiar mode of expression, was to them a never failing fund of interest and amusement. At times, when a convenient opportunity offered, they would all drop into aunt Nyna’s, and sup with her from her little round table, which always seemed so comfortable and cozy. Bread and butter never tasted so good anywhere else, and tea, taken from those little China cups, so thin and small that they seemed almost like egg-shells, was perfectly delicious.
One night, the good lady had a larger party than usual, for she had previously sent out her invitations, comprehending both Juliana, and Kate, the doctor’s eldest daughter. Aunt Nyna was in fine spirits that day, on account of having received a letter from Harry, and with it quite a sum of money, which he desired her to use according as her pleasure or necessity demanded. After tea, when they had all sat down together, the good lady, in the fulness of her heart, besought the pleasure of reading the letter to the company, to which they readily assented. In it, there was, as usual, a message to his “little wife,” assuring her, that if he continued to succeed as well as he had of late, he should come home soon, and claim her as his bride in reality. The young people laughed when they observed that Hesper blushed deeply, and Mr. Byers immediately offered her a large palm-leaf fan.
“Thee shouldn’t notice it when ladies blush, friend Byers,” said aunt Nyna, as she laid down the letter and regarded Hesper with a pleasant smile. “Once the good child only laughed at such things, but now she blushes, and is silent. Canst thee tell me what makes the difference, Hesper?”
“O,” replied Hesper, still blushing and smiling, “it is because I am older, and because – because I don’t know why.”
“That’s it exactly,” said Mr. Byers. “I am entirely satisfied with your explanation, it is so perfectly natural.”
“But,” continued Hesper, recovering her self-possession, “I don’t see how Harry ever came to call me his ‘little wife,’ or why he still persists in doing so, now that we are both so old.”
“Then let me tell thee,” said aunt Nyna, with an expression of great interest. “I can well remember the first time he ever saw thee. He was five years of age, and thou only five days when I took him with me to see the new baby. I never saw a little fellow so delighted with anything in my life. He kissed the baby’s soft round cheeks, so tenderly – looked with wonder and admiration at the little tiny hands, and then prayed us to let him take her in his arms, just one moment. Finally, he asked the baby’s name. The father – he was well and cheerful then – told him it was Hesper. The little fellow shook his curly head thoughtfully, as he said – ’I don’t like it – I would much rather have her named sissy, or little Miss Muffit,’ of whom he had learned in his nursery rhymes.
“We all laughed; at which the poor child seemed greatly disconcerted. ‘Look here, Harry,’ said thy father, and he took him kindly on his knee. ‘When my little baby first came to me, it was evening – the sun had gone down behind the hills, and the great clouds which were sailing through the sky, were of many beautiful colors. As I stood at the window, thanking God that he had given me such a precious little daughter, I looked up, and there I saw a beautiful bright star, in the midst of the clouds, shining calmly down upon me. It was the evening star, and years ago the people called it Hesper. It was so very bright and beautiful, that the same thankful, prayerful feeling came over me, that I had when I first looked upon the face of my new-born child. Then I said I will call my little daughter Hesper, for she came to me in the evening, when the night shadows were falling upon the earth, and it may be, as the years pass on, she will become like yonder star, a light to the pathway of many, so we shall bless God that he ever sent her into this world. That is the reason, Harry, why I called her Hesper.’ The little fellow sat in silence, a few moments; then he looked up with his face all aglow with pleasant thoughts. ‘I like it now,’ he said, ‘for the stars are the moon’s babies, and if she came down from God, it is right to call her Hesper, for she, too, is a little star baby.’ It was a simple, child-like thought, but it pleased us much, and for months after, thy mother called thee her ‘star-baby.’ When it was time to go, I could not make the little fellow willing to part from thee. He stole timidly up to thy mother’s bed-room and looked her long and earnestly in the face. ‘Please ma’am,’ he said, at length, in his coaxing, child-like way, ‘won’t you give me your baby?’ Thy mother laid her pale hand gently among his curls, and said – ’My dear child, I would not part with my precious baby for all the wealth of the world.’ The little fellow was disappointed. His lips quivered, and his eyes filled with tears. ‘Never mind, Master Harry,’ said thy father, by way of consolation. ‘Wait till you are older, and better able to take care of her, and then you shall have her for your little wife, if you will.’ He seemed well contented with this promise, and went away quite willingly. In after years, thy father disapproved of it, when Harry called thee by that name, but thy father himself was first at fault, for the child never forgot the promise, but has called thee his little wife, from that day to this.”
“And in all probability, he will call her so to the day of his death,” said Mr. Byers, “only in a higher and more truthful sense.”
“No, no;” said Hesper, seriously, “I never shall marry. I said so when I was a child, and I say so now.”
“Pshaw!” said Mr. Byers, with seeming impatience, “who ever heard such nonsense! A good looking, useful, affectionate girl, making a resolution at seventeen, to be an old maid to all eternity! Why, you deserve the censure of all sober-minded, rational people. If I were only a young man of twenty, the first thing I would do, would be to offer myself to you, and I don’t know,” he added, “but what, even now – ” Here he hesitated, and looked over towards Hesper, with that indescribable twinkle of sly humor in his eyes which was perfectly irresistible. The whole company burst into a hearty laugh, and Hesper, falling in with the old man’s merry mood, signified her willingness at once to receive a formal proposal.
“Attention, girls!” said Mr. Byers, after the laugh had subsided – and putting on a more serious countenance, he assumed at once a lecturing attitude. “I have somewhat to say to you on this subject of matrimony. It is now more than sixty years that I have looked the world in the face, and I feel, by this time, that I have a right to say that I know something about it. From sixteen till twenty-one I sowed my wild oats like any young fellow. At twenty-five I married, and began life in real earnest. I was a poor man, and had to earn my bread by the sweat of my brow. As time passed on, and the little ones began to gather around my table, I thanked God and worked all the harder. But fortune often made wry faces at me, and sometimes cast me headlong into the slough of despond. I didn’t stay there long, however, for the thought of Hannah and the children set me on my feet again, and called up energies I never knew were mine. When Mary, the eldest, was sixteen, she went into a decline, and fading slowly like a spring violet, at length she died. It was a heart breaking thing to us, but before we had fairly recovered from it, Willie, our second child, was upset in a pleasure boat, and drowned. Scarcely a year after, our blue-eyed Charlie died of a fever. Then I cannot tell you how entirely we placed our affections upon sweet little Fanny, our last remaining one, nor how hopelessly we mourned, when we found that the hand of the Destroyer was upon her also. O, girls! Heaven grant that you may never know such hours of watching and anxiety as we experienced, when, one night in mid-winter, the dear child lay upon her pillow, suffering beneath the croup, that scourge of childhood. I never shall forget how piteously she moaned, stretching up her trembling hands to us, and praying us for relief. Our utmost exertions were in vain, and at length, after hours of suffering, the little creature sobbed and moaned her soul away into the hand of her Creator.” The old man was silent for a few moments, and then continued.
“It was too much for my poor Hannah, for the saddest, loneliest thing in this wide world, is the heart of a childless mother – one who has watched faithfully and tenderly over her little flock, and followed them one after another to the grave. She may carry a quiet face before the world, but inwardly the broken chords are still bleeding, and the busy fingers of memory, with frequent touches, keep the wound ever open. Thus it was with Hannah. She tried to be cheerful, but the blow was too heavy, and at length she sank beneath it. Twenty years she walked by my side, and shared the cup of my joy and sorrow. That score of years was full of toil, and care, and trouble. If I had never married, I might have escaped that experience. But no: I thank God for it! With all its shadows, the memory therof is pleasant, and I am twice the man that I should be without it. Girls! you will never know what real life is, till you have learned to love with all the heart and soul – to live no longer for yourselves, but for others, never mind what the consequences may be.”
Kate Smiley looked up timidly, and in her own, gentle, unaffected manner, repeated these lines of Tennyson’s —
“I hold it true whate’er befall, —
I feel it when I sorrow most;
‘Tis better to have loved and lost,
Than never to have loved at all.”
“That’s it, exactly!” exclaimed Mr. Byers; “God, knew when he placed us in this world, what was best for us, and all these sad experiences which spring from our hearts’ best affections, work out a wonderful weight of good at last. The ‘wise man’ says, ‘with all thy getting, get understanding;’ and I say to you girls, with all your getting, get husbands.”
“But,” said Kate Smiley, who had already refused several offers, “you certainly wouldn’t have a woman take up with anybody, for the sake of getting married, and may be if she refuses two or three offers, because they do not seem suitable, that she will have to be an old maid at last, in spite of herself?”
“No, girls, no!” said Mr. Byers with much emphasis, “don’t throw yourselves away, under any circumstances, but wait till Mr. Right comes along, if ‘tis half a century, and if he never comes, then die happy in the thought that you did the best you could.”
“But, supposing,” said Juliana, with a mischievous look, “that I, for instance, should think I had married Mr. Right, and in the course of a few years he should prove to be Mr. Wrong – perhaps take to drinking and other bad habits – abuse me shamefully – threaten my life, and make me in all things as miserable as possible.”
“O, that’s an extreme case,” said Mr. Byers.
“But then you know such things happen.”
“Well, then, I’ll tell you what to do,” said the old gentleman, very decidedly – “rake up the fire, turn the cat out of doors, tie up the baby in the table cloth, and taking it on your back, start for parts unknown immediately.”
They all laughed, but Hesper shook her head.
“No:” she said, “that would be utter selfishness. I should say stand by him till the last moment. Love, suffer, beseech and entreat, and if all availed nothing, then die for him, or with him, but never forsake him.” Mr. Byers regarded her seriously and affectionately.
“O Hesper! Star of Peace and never failing Charity,” he said, “where will thy long-suffering end! God grant thou mayest never be brought to the trial!”
CHAPTER XX.
THE THANKSGIVING DINNER
“Isn’t it almost time for Mose to come home?” said George Grimsby, one day, as he came into the kitchen, where Hesper was at work.
“Almost,” she replied. “Capt. Clark says that we can expect him in the course of a week or two, though I shall try not to think of it too soon, for the ship may have a long passage, and then I should be very much disappointed.”
“What a pity it is,” remarked George, “that he can’t be here next Thursday! We shan’t have half so good a time without him.”
The day to which he alluded, was the annual Thanksgiving, and the Grimsby family, with uncle Nathan and aunt Betsey, Capt. Clark and his mother, with aunt Nyna and Mr. Byers, had been invited to take dinner with the Greysons. The children had talked of nothing else for the last fortnight, and Hesper herself had looked forward to it with much pleasure, though she knew that thoughts of the loved and absent would cast a shadow over her joy. She was, however, surrounded by so many comforts and blessings, and the future looked so bright before her, that she could not repine one moment. With a light step and a smiling countenance, she went about the house doing all she could to provide for the comfort and convenience of her expected guests. Her cheeks grew rosy red with exercise, and as she sung little snatches of songs while about her work, her voice sounded so sweet and pleasant, that her mother, who was sewing in the next room, laid down her work to listen. Every sly corner and piece of furniture was visited with the broom and duster – the tin ware and the great pewter platters on the kitchen shelves, shone like new silver, and not a spot could be seen upon the floor, she had scoured it so faithfully.
She was so much fatigued upon the night previous to the eventful day, that when she went to her chamber, she fell asleep as soon as she touched her pillow, and did not awake till the morning sun was shining brightly into her window.
“Dear me!” she exclaimed, as she sprang from her bed, “how came I to oversleep myself thus, upon this morning of all others!”
She dressed herself quickly, and ran down stairs in great haste, expecting that her father would be quite vexed with her, for being so late; but to her surprise she found the table spread, and the breakfast nearly ready, though her mother had not yet risen. Her father had been up some time, and he had attended to these things as faithfully as she would herself. “Indeed,” said Hesper, as she warmed her hands by the blazing fire, “I little thought of sleeping so late.”
“I am glad you did,” said her father, “for you needed the rest, and I always like to do anything about the house, when I have the opportunity.”
Hesper could not help thinking how differently he appeared from what he did a year ago, and just then, it seemed to her as though no one was ever blessed with half so good a father. As he bent down to turn over the great back-log, which sent whole showers of sparks up the chimney, she imprinted a warm kiss upon his cheek.
“Thank you, darling;” he said, “that is the sweetest reward I can have for my labors.”
Fred and Charlie could scarce wait for breakfast to be over, before they prayed Hesper to let them have their new jackets, which, with the rows of bright brass buttons, seemed to them more beautiful than anything they had ever seen. They had informed the Grimsby boys of their new possessions in rather a boastful manner, but were somewhat humbled when George told them, in return, that he and Benny had whole new suits. At Hesper’s suggestion, however, they concluded to defer the matter till they had brought some wood to kindle a fire in the parlor, which was soon done.
During the night there had been a light fall of snow, and now the ground looked even and white as far as one could see, but the sun was shining brightly in the clear blue sky, and whole flocks of little snow larks were flying from tree to tree, or leaving their tiny foot-prints in the snow as they hopped about in search of food.
As Hesper stood by the window and looked out, a carriage drove up to the door, and Mr. Grimsby, with his wife, and little Tommy, and Juliana, and the boys, sprang out, all dressed in their best, and looking never so happy. Hesper had scarce time to welcome them, before uncle Nathan and aunt Betsey arrived. Next came Mrs. Clark with aunt Nyna and Mr. Byers. Mrs. Clark told Hesper that she did not know as the Captain would come – “for,” said she, “he received word yesterday, that he must come to the city immediately, on important business. He said he should be back this morning, if possible, but that you must by no means wait for him.”
They did wait however, for Mr. Greyson was very anxious that all should be there, and it was with great reluctance that at last they took their seats without him. A mammoth turkey – the gift of Capt. Clark, lay like a fallen hero upon a dish in the centre of the table. His sides, so nicely brown, were swollen almost to bursting with the savory dressing within, and the rich juices were oozing from every pore. This was no ordinary sight to any of these good people, and the boys looked on with breathless interest, as Mr. Greyson commenced the operation of carving. George Grimsby carefully regarded each piece as it fell, and indulged in a thousand secret longings for the portion which contained the coveted wish-bone, for he had the greatest faith in its power to bring about desirable results. To his unspeakable joy, it actually did fall to his share. As quickly as possible he disengaged it from its surroundings, and polished it without delay.
“Here,” he said to Fred, who was his right hand neighbor – “let’s wish together.”
Not liking to attract the attention of the company, the boys held the bone below the table, and pulled with all their might. It did not part easily, but the boys were resolute, and at last it separated.
“There,” exclaimed George triumphantly, as he held up his part – “I have my wish, and now I will tell you what it is – I wish Mose would come home to-day.”
“That is right!” said Hesper. “So do I.” And “so do I” was repeated all around the table.
“There comes Capt. Clark,” said aunt Nyna, who sat nearest the window. She put down her knife and fork as she spoke – ’rose half way from her seat, then sat down again and glanced smilingly at the company. The next moment the door opened and Capt. Clark entered, with a young man – rather tall, with black whiskers, and his complexion somewhat darkened by exposure to the weather.
“How do you do, good people?” said the Captain, very politely. “Allow me to introduce to you – “
“Mose! Mose!” exclaimed Hesper, as she overturned her chair in her haste, and sprang into his arms.
All arose from the table at once to receive him. Tears, and kisses, and smiles, were mingled together, for a more heartfelt greeting was never known.
“How are you, my boy?” said Mr. Greyson, with joyful earnestness, as he grasped his hand. Mose looked at his father in astonishment, as he replied. Instead of the sullen, despairing look, which he had worn for years, his countenance was now radiant with hope and happiness. He spoke, he looked, and acted, like a man who had confidence in God and himself, and was both able and willing to do his duty in the world, whatever it might be. Then, too, Mose looked at his mother – so sick and feeble when he left home that he feared he never should see her again – but now she stood there with tears of joy in her mild eyes, and the glow of health upon her cheek. He had saved every cent of his earnings, that he might come home and minister to their wants, as far as possible, but all around him he saw signs of comfort and prosperity, for which he was wholly unprepared. They had purposely kept their removal to the new home a secret, and now they fully enjoyed his surprise.
“How has this all happened?” he asked – “What good spirit has aided you?”
“Here, Mose,” replied his father, as he laid his hand on Hesper’s shoulder – “is our fairy. She labored without fainting when our burdens were the heaviest. Her faith and patience were both example and rebuke to me in my despondency. Her never failing love and goodness has warmed my heart into action, and her truth and simplicity opened the way whereby others stretched out their hands to help us. God bless her! No better angel than she has ever crossed our threshold.”
The poor girl blushed painfully at this unlooked for praise, from the usually silent lips of her father, and she was in no small degree relieved, when the attention of the company was turned from her by George Grimsby, who stole up behind Mose, and pulling him by the coat, asked in a loud whisper concerning the whereabouts of his Guinea monkey. Upon being assured that the desired object might be expected by the regular packet, early next morning, he returned to his seat with a smiling countenance.
Again Mose looked round upon the little group, and then, turning to his mother, he said in a faltering tone – “all here but one!” His loving heart missed the welcome which would have come from the little one who was now slumbering in the dust. That sweet, childish face, with the clustering ringlets and soft blue eyes, was pictured distinctly in his memory, and as the thought came home to him that he would behold it upon earth no more, he bowed his head upon his hands and wept. Hesper sobbed aloud, for the wound was yet fresh in her heart, and then, for a few moments, there was a hushed and reverent silence throughout the room. “Come, children,” said Mr. Greyson, at length, as he motioned for Mose and Hesper to take their seats at the table, “let us think no longer of the grave, but of the bright heaven beyond, where the child of our love sits down with the angels to a feast of Thanksgiving, far more joyful than any that earth can know.” At these words the whole company resumed their seats, and soon the passing shadow had vanished from their countenances.
“Hast thee brought me no message from my boy Harry?” said aunt Nyna at length, who for some time had maintained a considerate silence, but now ventured to speak.
“Aye, that I have,” said Mose, thrusting his hand into his coat pocket. “Here is a letter and a daguerreotype” – and he passed them over at once to the good lady.