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diff --git a/old/53738-0.txt b/old/53738-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 53555bb..0000000 --- a/old/53738-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,9599 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Unseen Hand, by Elijah Kellogg - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most -other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of -the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - - - -Title: The Unseen Hand - or James Renfew and His Boy Helpers - -Author: Elijah Kellogg - -Release Date: December 15, 2016 [EBook #53738] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE UNSEEN HAND *** - - - - -Produced by Richard Tonsing, David Edwards and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This -file was produced from images generously made available -by The Internet Archive) - - - - - - -[Illustration: MR. WHITMAN HELPED JAMES TO GET DOWN FROM THE WAGON. Page -10.] - - - - - THE UNSEEN HAND - OR - JAMES RENFEW AND HIS BOY HELPERS - - - BY - - ELIJAH KELLOGG - - AUTHOR OF “ELM ISLAND STORIES” “PLEASANT COVE STORIES” “FOREST GLEN - STORIES” “A STRONG ARM AND A MOTHER’S BLESSING” “GOOD OLD TIMES” ETC. - - - ILLUSTRATED - - - BOSTON - LEE AND SHEPARD PUBLISHERS - NEW YORK CHARLES T. DILLINGHAM - 1882 - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - Copyright, 1881, - BY LEE AND SHEPARD. - - _All Rights Reserved._ - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - CONTENTS. - - - CHAPTER PAGE - I. “THE MOTHER’S BREATH IS WARM” 9 - II. THE REDEMPTIONER 18 - III. JAMES RENFEW 29 - IV. THE WHITMAN FAMILY 39 - V. THE UNSEEN HAND 47 - VI. “THERE’S LIFE IN HIM YET” 68 - VII. NOBLE CONDUCT OF BERTIE 83 - VIII. INFLUENCE OF HOPE 97 - IX. THE REDEMPTIONER AT MEETING 115 - X. THE REDEMPTIONER AT SCHOOL 129 - XI. THE PLOT EXPOSED 146 - XII. STUNG TO THE QUICK 162 - XIII. THE SCHOLARS SUSTAIN JAMES 172 - XIV. RESENTING A BASE PROPOSAL 189 - XV. SOMETHING TO PUT IN THE CHEST 205 - XVI. A YEAR OF HAPPINESS 221 - XVII. REDEMPTION YEAR 239 - XVIII. WILLIAM WHITMAN 253 - XIX. TRAPPING 270 - XX. JAMES AND EMILY 282 - XXI. THE BRUSH CAMP 299 - XXII. THE WILDERNESS HOME 316 - - - - - PREFACE. - - -A vast majority of the noblest intellects of the race have ever held to -the idea that,— - - “There’s a divinity that shapes our ends, - Rough hew them how we will.” - -By its influence they have been both consoled and strengthened under the -pressures and in the exigencies of life. This principle, to a singular -degree, assumes both form and development in the story of James Renfew, -the Redemptioner. - -He comes to us as an orphan and the inmate of a workhouse, flung upon -the world, like a dry leaf on the crest of a breaker; his mind a blank -devoid of knowledge, save the idea of the Almighty and the commands of -the Decalogue, whose force, in virtue of prior possession, held the -ground and kept at bay the evil influences by which he was surrounded. -And in consequence of thus holding aloof from all partnership in vice, -he was brow-beaten, trampled upon, and made a butt of by his companions -in misfortune. - -His only inheritance was the kiss of a dying mother, the dim -recollection of her death, and a Bible which he could not read,—her sole -bequest. - -The buoyancy, the frolic of the blood, the premonition of growing power, -which render childhood and youth so pregnant of happiness, and so -pleasant in the retrospect, were to him unrevealed. At nineteen the life -seemed crushed out of him by the pressure, or, rather puncture, of a -miserable present and a hopeless future. In the judgment of the most -charitable, he was but one remove from fatuity. - -From such material to develop the varied qualities of a pioneer, a man -of firm purpose, quick resolve, and resolute to meet exigencies, might -well seem to require supernatural power; and yet, by no other alchemy -than sympathy, encouragement wisely timed, and knowledge seasonably -imparted, was this seeming miracle accomplished. - -The pity of Alice Whitman, the broad benevolence of her husband, the -warm sympathy of Bertie and his young associates, the ripe counsels of -the glorious old grandfather,—sage Christian hero,—and the efforts of -Mr. Holmes, who honored his calling, while sowing good seed in the -virgin soil of a young heart, were but visible instruments in the grasp -of the Hand Unseen. - - - - - THE UNSEEN HAND; - - OR, - - JAMES RENFEW AND HIS BOY-HELPERS. - - - - - CHAPTER I. - “THE MOTHER’S BREATH IS WARM.” - - -It was the autumn of 1792. The beams of the declining sun were resting -peacefully upon the time-worn walls of a log house of large dimensions, -evidently built to serve the purposes both of a dwelling and a fortress, -and situated upon the banks of the Swatara Creek, in the State of -Pennsylvania. - -A magnificent chestnut-tree, whose trunk and lower branches were all -aglow with the long level rays of the retiring light, shadowed a large -portion of the spacious door-yard. - -This was the homestead of Bradford Whitman, a well-to-do farmer, and -whose family consisted of himself and wife, his aged father, and three -children, Peter, Albert and Maria, aged respectively sixteen, fourteen -and eleven. - -Upon one of the highest branches of this great tree was seated Bertie -Whitman. The eyes of the lad were eagerly fastened upon the road that, -skirting the rising ground upon which the dwelling stood, led to a -distant village. - -At once his features lighted up with a jubilant expression; he rapidly -descended from his perch, and ran to the door of the house, shouting, -“Mother! Maria! Grandfather! They’ve got him; they are coming down -Liscomb’s hill this minute, and there’s three in the wagon. Oh!” - -He would have run to meet the approaching team, and had taken a few -steps when he was met by his elder brother. - -“Bertie, we’ve got the _redemptioner_, and I jumped out of the wagon -while the horses were walking up our hill to tell you and Maria not to -laugh if you can help it, ‘cause it would make him feel bad; but you -can’t think how funny he does look; he’s lame besides, and his name’s -James Renfew.” - -This conversation was interrupted by the rumbling of wheels as their -father drove up, where his whole family were grouped around the door. -Mrs. Whitman stood on the door-stone, the old grandfather beside her, -leaning on his staff, the children in front, while Fowler, the -house-dog, with his fore-legs on the shoulders of old Frank, the near -horse, his particular friend, was trying to lick his nose and Frank was -arching his neck to accommodate him. - -Mr. Whitman helped James to get down from the wagon. The boy made no -return to the salutations of the family save by a stony stare, not even -taking the hand extended to him by Mrs. Whitman. He, however, manifested -some token of sensibility by offering to help in unharnessing, and would -have limped after the horses to the barn, but his master told him to go -into the house and keep still till his leg was better; nevertheless -there he stood staring after the horses, and evidently would much rather -have followed them to the barn. - -The dog then came and smelt of him. Mrs. Whitman told Peter to take him -by the hand and lead him into the house. She placed an arm-chair for -him, and a smaller one to put his lame leg on, and in a few minutes he -was fast asleep. - -Judging by appearances Bradford Whitman had drawn a blank at this his -first venture in the redemptioner lottery. The children got together -(with the dog) under the great chestnut-tree to free their minds and -compare notes. - -“Isn’t he queer?” said Bertie. - -“Did ever anybody see such funny clothes? I guess they were made for him -when he was small and so he’s grown out of them, but he’d be real -handsome if he had good clothes and his hair combed, and didn’t have -such a pitiful look out of his eyes,” said Maria. - -“I tell you what he puts me in mind of,” said Bertie, “Mr. William -Anderson’s oxen that are so poor, their necks so long and thin; and they -look so discouraged, and as though they wanted to fall down and die.” - -Peter now related all he had heard Wilson tell their father, and dwelt -with great emphasis upon Mr. Wilson’s statement that the lad had not a -friend in the world and no home. - -“He’s got one friend,” said Bertie, “Fowler likes him, ‘cause he smelt -of him and wagged his tail; if he hadn’t liked him he would have -growled. Mother’s a friend to him, and father and grandpa and all of -us.” - -“We will be good to him because he never had any chestnut-tree to play -under and swing on, nor any garden of his own,” said Maria. - -“How can we be good to him if he won’t say anything, Maria!” said -Bertie. - -“Can’t we be good to the cattle, and I’m sure they don’t talk?” - -“If they don’t they say something; the cat she purrs, the hens prate, -Fowler wags his tail and barks and whines; and the horses neigh, and -snort, and put down their heads for me to pat them; but how could you be -good to a stone? and he’s just like a stone, when mother put out her -hand to shake hands he did not take it, nor look pleased nor anything.” - -“Perhaps ‘twas ‘cause he was afraid. When we first got our kitten she -hid away up garret, and we didn’t see her for three days, but she got -tame, and so perhaps he will.” - -They finally made up their minds that James was entitled to all the -sympathy and kindness they could manifest towards him, when they were -called to supper. - -It now became a question between Mr. Whitman and his wife, where to stow -James that night. - -“Put him in the barn and give him some blankets to-night, and to-morrow -we will clean him up.” - -“I can’t bear to put him in the barn, husband, I’ll make him a bed of -some old ‘duds’ on the floor in the porch. Send him right off to bed; -I’ll wash his clothes and dry ‘em before morning. I can fix up some old -clothes of yours for him to work in, for I don’t want any of the -neighbors to see him in those he has on.” - -Mr. Whitman now ushered James to bed, waited till he undressed, and -brought in his clothes that were soon in scalding suds. Had Mr. Whitman -gone back he would have seen this poor ignorant lad rise from his bed, -kneel down and repeat the Lord’s prayer, and though repeated with a very -feeble sense of its import may we not believe it was accepted by Him who -“requireth according to that a man hath and not according to that he -hath not,” and whose hand that through the ocean storm guides the -sea-bird to its nest amid the breakers, has directed this wayfarer to -the spot where there are hearts to pity and hands to aid him. - -A blazing fire in the great kitchen fireplace so nearly accomplished (by -bedtime) the drying of the clothes, that in the morning they were -perfectly dry, the hot bricks and mouldering log giving out heat all -night long. In the morning Mr. Whitman carried to the porch water in a -tub, soap and his clean clothes, and told James to wash himself, put -them on and then come out to his breakfast. - -When James had eaten his breakfast (Mr. Whitman and Peter having eaten -and gone to the field), the good wife cut his hair which was of great -length, gave his head a thorough scrubbing with warm soapsuds, and -completed the process with a fine-toothed comb. Removing carefully the -bandages she next examined his leg. - -“It was a deep cut, but it’s doing nicely,” she said, “there’s not a bit -of proud flesh in it; you must sit in the house till it heals up.” When -having bound up the wound she was about to leave him, he murmured,— - -“You’re good to me.” - -This was not a very fervent manifestation of gratitude, but it betokened -that the spirit within was not wholly petrified; as Alice Whitman looked -into that vacant face she perceived by the moisture of the eyes, that -there was a lack not so much of feeling as of the power to express it. - -“God bless you, I’ll act a mother’s part towards you; it shall be your -own fault if you are not happy now. I know God sent you here, for I -cannot believe that anything short of Divine Power would have ever -brought my husband to take a redemptioner.” - -Bertie and Maria, who had been looking on in silence, now ran into the -field to tell their father and Peter all their mother had said and done, -and that the redemptioner had spoken to her. - -“Father,” said Maria, “if mother is his mother, will he be our brother?” - -“Not exactly; your mother meant that she would treat him just as she -does you, and so you must treat him as you do each other, because your -mother has said so, and that’s sufficient.” - -“Then we mustn’t call him a redemptioner?” - -“No; forget all about that and call him James.” - -“When we have anything good, and when we find a bumblebee’s nest, shall -we give him part, just like we do each other?” - -“Yes.” - -Mrs. Whitman sent for Sally Wood, one of her neighbor’s daughters, to -take care of the milk and do the housework; and then set herself to -altering over a suit of her husband’s clothes to fit James, who, clean -from head to foot, sat with his leg in a chair watching Mrs. Whitman at -her work, but the greater portion of the time asleep. - -“Let him sleep,” she said; “‘twill do him good to sleep a week; he’ll -come to his feeling after that and be another boy. It’s the full meals -and the finding out what disposition is to be made of him, and that he’s -not to be hurt, makes him sleep. I doubt if he had any too much to eat -on the passage over.” - -By night the good woman, with the aid of Sally (who, besides doing the -work, found some time to sew), had prepared a strong, well-fitting suit -of working-clothes and a linsey-woolsey shirt, and, after supper, James -put them on. He made no remark in relation to his clothes, but Maria -reported that she knew he was as pleased as he could be, because she -peeped into the door of the bedroom and saw him looking at himself in -the glass and counting the buttons on his waistcoat and jacket. - -James improved rapidly, and began in a few days to walk around the -door-yard and to the barn, and sit by the hour in the sun on the -wood-pile (with Fowler at his feet, for the dog had taken a great liking -to him), insomuch that Mrs. Whitman asked her husband if it would not -make him better contented to have some light work that he could do -sitting down. - -“Not yet, wife. I want to see if, when he finds us all at work, he won’t -start of his own accord. He has no more idea of earning anything, or of -labor in our sense of that word, than my speckled ox has. When I hold up -the end of the yoke and tell old Buck to come under, he comes; and so -this boy has been put out to hard masters who stood over and got all out -of him they could. He has never had reason to suppose that there are any -people in this world that care anything about others, except to get all -they can out of them.” - -“If, as you say, he has always had a task-master, perhaps he thinks -because we don’t tell him what to do, that we don’t want him to do -anything.” - -“We’ll let the thing work; I want to see what he’ll do of his own accord -before I interfere. It is my belief that, benumbed as he now appears, -there’s enterprise in him, and that the right kind of treatment will -bring it out; but I want it to come naturally just as things grow out of -the ground. He’s had a surfeit of the other kind of treatment.” - -Affairs went on in this way for a week longer, till the boy’s leg had -completely healed, during which time it became evident that this -apparently unimpressible being was not, after all, insensible to the -influence of kindness, for, whenever he perceived that wood or water -were wanted, he would anticipate the needs of Mrs. Whitman nor ever -permit her to bring either. - -Mr. Whitman still manifested no disposition to put the boy to work, and -even shelled corn himself, till his wife became somewhat impatient; and -though even the grandfather thought the boy might, at least, do that -much. Whitman, however, paid no attention to the remonstrances of -either, and matters went on as before. - - - - - CHAPTER II. - THE REDEMPTIONER. - - -The reader of the opening chapter will, doubtless, be disposed to -inquire, “What is a redemptioner? By what fortunate chance has this -singular being been flung into the path, and at once domesticated in the -family of Bradford Whitman, and admitted without scruple to the inner -sanctuary of a mother’s heart.” - -Not by any chance as we believe, and will, therefore, endeavor to -satisfy these demands by introducing to our young readers Mr. Robert -Wilson, a _soul-driver_, as the occupation in which he was engaged was -then termed (and one of the best of them) and permit him to tell his own -story. - -The great abundance of food and coarse clothing in America, and the -anxiety of the farmers to obtain cheap labor, led to this singular -arrangement. - -They contracted with the masters of vessels to bring over able-bodied -men accustomed to farm-work, the farmers paying their passage, which -included the captain’s fees, the laborers contracting to serve for a -certain term of years to reimburse the farmer for his outlay; the -farmers agreeing to furnish the laborers with wholesome and sufficient -food and comfortable clothing. - -These people were called redemptioners, and the term of service was -generally three years, and, in the case of boys, four. - -The system, however, which operated very well for a while, had its -disadvantages that brought it into disrepute, and resulted in its -abolition. The principal of these was its falling into the hands of -speculators, who went to the other side and took whomsoever they could -pick up, without regard to their honesty, industry, or capacity of -labor, some of them parish-poor, not only ignorant of agricultural -labor, but even thieves and vagabonds. These persons collected them in -gangs of twenty, and even more, and drove them through the country and -delivered them to the farmers, ostensibly at the rate of their -passage-money and a reasonable compensation for their own trouble and -expense in seeking and bringing them over. - -Mr. Wilson naturally a man of kindly feelings, that had not been -entirely blunted by the business in which for many years he had been -engaged, and who—having been well brought up by godly Scotch -parents—could by no means wholly ignore the lessons of his youth, was -now on board of the “Betsy” brig, in Liverpool, bound for Philadelphia, -and had engaged berths for thirteen persons, eleven of whom different -farmers in Pennsylvania had agreed to take off his hands. He had paid -the passage of the twelfth at his own risk, and wanted, but had not been -able to obtain, one more, having been disappointed in a man whom he had -engaged on the previous voyage, and, as he would be compelled to pay for -the berth, whether occupied or not, he was, of course, anxious to obtain -another man. The vessel was not to haul out of the dock under two days, -and he resolved to make a final effort to find another man. - -Mr. Wilson was well known among the neighboring population, and -therefore possessed peculiar facilities. The persons already obtained he -had brought from the country, and he doubted not from his extensive -acquaintance that he could dispose of almost any man who was sound in -limb, accustomed to labor, whether much acquainted with farm-work or -not. “If he is only honest,” said Wilson to himself, “and young enough, -it will do; for what he don’t know he can learn, and must work for his -employer a longer time, that’s all.” - -In regard to character he was able, in many cases, to obtain references, -but a shrewd judge of men, he trusted much to his own judgment, and had -seldom cause to repent it, although, as we shall see, he was deceived in -the character of one of the men then on shipboard which led to his -relinquishing the traffic not many years after. - -He set out early in the morning for a village about ten miles from the -city, and where he had often found men to his liking, especially on the -previous voyage. He found quite a number eager to go, but some were -Irish, whom he did not like; some were boys, some old and decrepid, or -too much labor-worn. - -He was returning from his bootless search in no very satisfactory state -of mind, when he stumbled upon a company of young persons, who late as -was the hour, had just started out from the shelter of some old crates -filled with straw that had been piled against the brick wall of a -glass-house, in which were built the chimneys of several ovens, and -which had afforded them warmth, for the nights were quite cool. - -They were shaking the straw from their garments and evidently preparing -to break their fast. One had a fish in his hand, another meat, and -another vegetables, but all uncooked. - -The group presented such a hardened vagabond appearance, that Wilson who -had paused with the intention of speaking, was about to pass on, when -upon second thoughts, he said within himself, “They look like thieves, -but they are a hard-meated rugged looking set and all young. Perhaps -there may be among them one who taken away from the rest, and put under -good influences, and among good people, might make something.” - -Turning towards them, he said, - -“Young men, do any of you want to go to America?” - -“Go to ‘Merica,” replied a dark-complexioned fellow of low stature, with -a devil-may-care-look, and quite flashily attired, apparently in the -cast-off clothes of some gentleman. - -“Yes, some people are going over to the States with me as redemptioners, -and I want one more to make up my number, it’s a first-rate chance for a -young man who’s smart, willing to work, and wants to make something of -himself. There are scores of men there whom I carried, that are now -forehanded, have large farms, cattle and money at interest, who when -they left here lived on one meal a day and often went without that.” - -“Don’t you know Dick,” said a red-headed, saucy, but intelligent-looking -chap, with sharply cut features, “that’s the genteel name of those poor -devils who sell themselves for their passage and this ‘ere likes is the -boss what takes the head money.” - -Without noticing the interruption, Wilson continued,— - -“Here, for instance, is a young man who can get no work these hard -times, which means no clothes, no bread, no place to put his head in. A -farmer over there who wants help pays his passage. He works for that -farmer till he pays up the passage money; and the farmer takes him into -his family, and feeds and clothes him while he is doing it.” - -“How long will he have to work to pay for his passage?” - -“Three or four years; three if he is used to farm work.” - -“What does he do after that?” - -“Then he is his own man and can always have plenty of work at good wages -and found, and won’t have to lay up alongside of a glass-house chimney -to keep from freezing. Land is so cheap that if he is prudent and saves -his money, he can in a few years buy a piece of land with wood on it -that he can cut down, build him a log house, plant and sow and be -comfortable. In some places the government will give him land to settle -on if he builds a house and stays five years, or he can pay for it by -working on the highways.” - -“Go, Dick,” cried the red-head, “they say it’s a glorious country, -plenty of work, plenty of bread, and no hanging for stealing, just the -place for you my lad.” - -“You shut up. What is he going to do after he gets the land!” - -“Work on it to be sure, make a home of it, have cattle, and sheep, and -hogs, and lashings to eat.” - -“Then all the redemptioners, as you call ‘em, go to ‘Merica for is to -work?” - -“To be sure, to get a chance to work and get ahead, and that’s what they -can’t do here.” - -“Well, grandfather, I won’t be a redemptioner, because work and I have -fallen out. Ain’t it so with you, Tom Hadley?” - -This interrogatory was addressed to a tall pale youth, clothed in a suit -of rusty black, that might have belonged to a curate, with finger nails -half an inch in length, and on his fingers three valuable rings and a -broad-brimmed hat on his head. - -“Yes, I never fell in with it yet. Don’t think I am fool enough to work -three years for the sake of getting a chance to work all the rest of my -life, a thing I am altogether above and do despise.” - -“If you won’t work how do you expect to live?” - -“By stealing,” replied the lank boy, displaying his rings. - -“By working when we can’t do any better, granddaddy, and begging for the -rest,” said Tom Hadley. - -During this conversation this select company had gradually gathered -around Wilson, and one of them was in the act of purloining a -handkerchief from the latter’s pocket, when he received a blow from a -stout cudgel in the hand of the Scotchman, that felled him to the -ground. - -“Why don’t you take Foolish Jim?” said the red-headed chap, “he’ll work; -rather work than not.” - -“Who’s Foolish Jim?” - -“There he is,” pointing to a boy leaning against the wall of the -glass-house, aloof from the rest. - -“Why do you call him Foolish Jim?” - -“‘Cause he’s such a fool he won’t lie, swear nor steal; but we are -dabsters at all three.” - -“What makes him so much worse dressed than the rest?” - -“‘Cause he’s a fool and won’t steal. Now we all get one thing or -another, meat, fish, vegetables; and we’re going down to the brick yards -to have a cook and a real tuck-out, but he’s had no breakfast, nor won’t -get any, till he runs some errand for the glass-house folks, or gets -some horse to hold, or some little job of work, just ‘cause he won’t -steal nor beg either. If you’d a dropt that handkerchief on the ground -and he’d a picked it up, instead of putting it in his pocket, he’d a run -after you crying, ‘Mister you’ve lost your handkerchief.’ Now there’s no -work to be had by those who are fools enough to work, so he’s just -starving by inches.” - -“And to help him out of the world you keep him with you to make sport of -him.” - -“That’s so, as much as we think will do, but we can’t go but about so -far, ‘cause he’s strong as a giant and he’s got a temper of his own, -though it takes an awful sight to git it up; but when its up you’d -better stand clear, he’ll take any two of us and knock our heads -together. When the glassmen have a heavy crate to lift, they always sing -out for Jim.” - -“Ask him to come here.” - -“Jim, here’s a cove wants yer.” - -Mr. Wilson scanned with great curiosity the lad whom his companions -termed a fool because he would neither lie nor swear, steal nor beg, but -was willing to work. He was tall, large-boned, with great muscles that -were plainly visible, of regular features, fair complexion and clean, -thus forming a strong contrast to his companions, who were dirty in the -extreme. He might be called, on the whole, good looking, as far as form -and features went, but on the other hand there was an expression of -utter hopelessness and apathy in his face that seemed almost to border -upon fatuity, and went far to justify the appellation bestowed upon him -by his companions. - -His movements also were those of an automaton; there was none of the -spring, energy or buoyancy of youth about him. - -He was barefoot, with a tattered shirt, ragged pants and coat of -corduroy, the coat was destitute of buttons and confined to his waist by -a ropeyarn. On his head he wore a sailor’s fez cap, streaked with tar -and that had once been red, but was faded to the color of dried blood. - -“What is your name, my lad?” - -“Jim.” - -“Jim what?” - -“Jim, that’s all.” - -“How old are you?” - -“Don’t know.” - -“Where are your father and mother?” - -“Haven’t got none?” - -“Any brothers or sisters?” - -“No.” - -“Where did you come from? Where do you belong?” - -“Work’us.” - -“Do you want to go to America with me, and get work?” - -“I’ll go anywhere if I can have enough to eat, clothes to keep me warm, -and some warm place to sleep.” - -“Will you work?” - -“Yes; I’ll work.” - -“What kind of work can you do?” - -“I can dig dirt, and hoe, and pick oakum, and drive horses, and break -stones for the highway, and break flax.” - -“What other farm-work can you do?” - -“I can mow grass, and reap grain, and plash a hedge, and thrash (thresh) -grain.” - -“Where did you learn these things?” - -“They used to put me out to farmers once.” - -“How long was you with the farmers?” - -“Don’t know.” - -“Mister,” broke in the lank youth, “he don’t know anything. Why don’t -you ask ‘em up to the work’us; like’s they know who he is, where he came -from, and all about him. They feed him, but he’s so proud he won’t call -upon ‘em if he can help it, ‘cause he thinks it’s begging. He might have -three good meals there every day if he would, but he’s such a simpleton -he won’t go there till he’s starved within an inch of his life.” - -Upon this hint the Scotchman, whose curiosity was now thoroughly -aroused, taking the lad for a guide, started for the workhouse. - - - - - CHAPTER III. - JAMES RENFEW. - - -As they went along, Wilson, feigning fatigue, proposed that they should -sit down to rest, but his real motive was that, undisturbed by his -companions, he might observe this singular youth more at his leisure and -be the better able to form some more definite opinion in his own mind -respecting him. - -After long contemplating the features and motions of Jim at his leisure, -Mr. Wilson came to the conclusion that there was no lack of sense, but -that discouragement, low living, absence of all hope for the future, -ignorance and being made a butt of, were the potent causes that had -reduced the lad to what he was; and that, under the influence of good -food and encouragement, he would rally and make an efficient laborer and -perhaps something more, and resolved to sift the matter to the bottom. - -From the records of the workhouse he ascertained that the boy’s name was -James Renfew, that he was not born in the institution, but was brought -there with his mother, being at that time three years of age. The mother -was then in the last stages of disease, and in a few weeks died. He was -informed that the boy had been several times put out to different -farmers, who, after keeping him till after harvest, brought him back in -the fall to escape the cost of his maintenance in the winter. - -Wilson mentioned what he had been told in respect to his character, to -which the governor replied it was all true, and that he should not be -afraid to trust him with untold gold, that he came and went as he -pleased; and when starved out, and not till then, he came to them and -was housed, fed and made welcome. - -“Where did he get ideas in his head so different from those of workhouse -children in general?” - -“I am sure I don’t know except they grew there. You seem to have a great -deal of curiosity about the history of Jim, there’s an old Scotchwoman -here, Grannie Brockton, who took care of his mother while she lived and -of the boy after her death; she’s a crabbed venomous old creature, deaf -as a haddock, but if she happens to be in a good mood and you can make -her hear, she can tell you the whole story.” - -“I’ll find a way to make her agreeable.” - -He found Grannie Brockton, who seeing a stranger approach, drew herself -up, put one hand to her ear, and with the other motioned the intruder -away. - -Wilson, without a word, approached and laid a piece of silver on her -knee. This wrought an instantaneous change, turning briskly round she -pulled down the flap of her right ear (the best one) and said,— - -“What’s your will wi’ me?” - -“I want you to tell me all you know about James Renfew and his parents.” - -“It’s Jeames Renfew ye want to speer about, and it’s my ain sel’ wha’ -can tell you about him and his kith, and there’s na ither in this place -that can.” - -The interrogator felt that the best method of getting at the matter was -to leave the old crone to her own discretion, and without further -questioning placed another small piece of silver in her lap. - -“What countryman may ye be?” - -“A Scotchman.” - -“I kenned as much by the burr on your tongue; ay then, ye’ll mind when -the battle o’ Bannockburn was.” - -“The battle of Bannockburn was fought on the twenty-fifth day of June.” - -“True for ye. It was sixteen years ago Bannockburn day that this boy’s -mother was brought here sick, and this Jeames wi’ her a bairn about -three years old. A good woman she was too. I’m not a good woman, naebody -ca’s me a good woman, I dinna ca’ myself a good woman, but for all that -I know a good person when I see one. - -“She had death in her face when she was brought in, would have been glad -to die, but her heart was breaking about the child to be left to the -tender mercies o’ the work’us. - -“When she had been here little better than a week, a minister came to -see her; a young, a douce man. Oh, he was a heavenly man! She was so -rejoiced to see him, she kissed his hands and bathed them wi’ her hot -tears. She thanked him, and cried for joy. I could nae keep from -greeting my ain sel’.” - -“Where was he from?” - -“He was the curate of the parish where she used to live, was with her -husband when he was sick, and read the service at his funeral; and he -had christened this child, and aye been a friend to them.” - -“She told me the parson o’ the parish was a feckless do-little, naebody -thought he had any grace; this curate did all the work and visited the -people, who almost worshipped him.” - -“Did he come any more?” - -“Ay, till she died, and then attended the burial. For four years after -her death he came three times a year to see the child, and would take -him on his knees and tell him stories out of the Bible and teach him the -Lord’s prayer. He made the child promise him that he would never lie, -nor swear, nor steal, and taught him a’ the commandments. He likewise -made me promise that I would hear him say the Lord’s prayer, when I put -him to bed, and that I would be kind to him. I did hear him say the -prayer, but I was never kind to him, for ‘tis not in my nature to be -kind to any body, but I used to beat him when he vexed me.” - -“Who was this boy’s father?” - -“He was a hedger and ditcher, and rented a small cottage, and grass for -a cow, in the parish where the curate lived. After his death, his widow -came to Liverpool, because she had a sister here who had saved money by -living at service, and they rented a house, and took boarders, and -washed and ironed; but her sister got married and went to Canada, and -she was taken sick, and came here to die.” - -“What became of the curate?” - -“He came here till the laddie was seven years auld, and then he came to -bid him good-by, because he was going to be chaplain in a man-of-war, -and the laddie grat as though his heart wad break. - -“The curate gave him his mother’s Bible, but little good will it do him, -for he canna read a word, nor tell the Lord’s prayer when he sees it in -print.” Finding her visitor was about to leave, she said,— - -“Mind, what ye have heard frae me is the truth, sin a’ body kens that -cross and cankered as auld Janet may be, she’s nae given to falsehood.” - -The relation of auld Janet had stirred the conscience of Robert Wilson, -and probed his soul to its very depths. - -“I cannot,” he said within himself, “leave the boy here. The curse of -that dying mother would fall on me if I did. He must come out of this -place. Let me see what can I do with him? Could I only hope to prevail -upon Bradford Whitman to take him—I know he hates the very sight of me -and of a redemptioner, but a friendless boy of this one’s character, -that I can get a certificate from the governor of the workhouse to -establish, might operate to move him, and he’s a jewel of a man. I’ll -try him. If I can do nothing with him, I’ll try Nevins or Conly, but -Whitman first of all. If none of them’ll keep him, you must take him -yourself, Robert Wilson; take him from here, at any rate.” - -Mr. Wilson made his way back to the authorities, and said to them:— - -“I’m taking some redemptioners to the States; if you’ll pay this boy’s -passage, I’ll take him off your hands, but you must put some decent -clothes on him.” - -To this the chairman of the board replied: “We cannot do that. We will -let you have the boy and put some clothes on him, and that’s enough. You -make a good thing out of these men; you don’t have to advance anything, -the farmers pay their passage and pay you head-money.” - -“Thank you for nothing, that’s not enough. The rest of my redemptioners -are able-bodied men used to farm-work, but this creature is but -nineteen, don’t know much of anything about farm-work; only fit to pick -oakum or break stones on the highway, and there’s none of that work to -be done in the States. He’ll be a hard customer to get rid of, for he -don’t seem to have hardly the breath of life in him; these Americans are -driving characters; they make business ache, and will say right off he’s -not worth his salt. I shall very likely have him thrown on my hands (if -indeed he don’t die before he gets there) for I have no order for any -boy.” - -“You are very much mistaken, Mr. Wilson, that boy will lift you and your -load, will do more work than most men, is better fitted for a new -country than one who has been delicately brought up.” - -“Mr. Governor, I have made you a fair offer. This boy has got a -settlement in this parish, and you cannot throw it off, so you will -always have him on your hands more or less. By and by he’ll marry some -one as poor as himself, and you’ll have a whole family on your hands for -twenty, perhaps fifty years. You know how that works, these paupers -marry and raise families on purpose, because they know they will then be -the more entitled to parish help. Give him up to me and pay his passage, -you are then rid of him forever and stop the whole thing just where it -is. I’ve told you what I’ll do. I won’t do anything different.” - -After consultation the authorities consented to pay his passage and give -him second-hand but whole shoes, shirts, and stockings enough for a -shift, and a Scotch cap. - -Mr. Wilson then took him into a Jew’s shop, pulled off his rags, -furnished him with breeches and upper garments, and put him on board the -brig. - -Mr. Wilson was an old practitioner at the business of soul-driving. His -custom was to stop a week in Philadelphia in order to let his men -recover from the effects of the voyage, which at that day, in an -emigrant ship, was a terrible ordeal, for there were no laws to restrain -the cupidity of captains and owners. This delay answered a double -purpose, as his redemptioners made a better appearance, and were more -easily disposed of and at better prices. He also improved the -opportunity to send forward notices to his friends, the tavernkeepers, -stating the day on which he should be at their houses; and they in turn -notified the farmers in their vicinity, some of whom came out to receive -the men they had engaged, and others came to look at and trade with -Wilson for the men he might have brought on his own account, of whom he -sometimes had a number, and not infrequently his whole gang were brought -on speculation. - -It was about nine o’clock on the morning of the second day after his -arrival in Philadelphia, and Mr. Wilson, having partaken of a bountiful -meal, was enjoying his brief rest in a most comfortable frame of mind. -He had good reason to congratulate himself, having safely passed through -the perils of the voyage, and, on the first day of his arrival disposed -to great advantage of the man he had brought at his own risk; the other -eleven were engaged, and the boy alone remained to be disposed of. - -His cheerful reflections were disturbed by a cry of pain from the -door-yard, and James was brought in, the blood streaming from a long and -deep gash in his right leg. - -The tavern-keeper asked him to cut some firewood, and the awkward -creature, who had never in his life handled any wood tool but an English -billhook, had struck the whole bit of the axe in his leg. The blood was -staunched, and a surgeon called to take some stitches, at which the boy -neither flinched nor manifested any concern. - -The doctor and the crowd of idle onlookers, whom the mishap of James -drew together, had departed, the landlord had left the bar to attend to -his domestic concerns. Mr. Wilson, his serenity of mind effectually -broken, paced the floor with flushed face and rapid step, and talking to -himself. - -“Had it been his neck, I wad nae hae cared,” he muttered (getting to his -Scotch as his passion rose) “here’s a doctor’s bill at the outset; and I -maun stay here on expense wi’ twelve men, or take him along in a wagon. - -“I dinna ken, Rob Wilson, what ailed ye to meddle with the gauk for an -auld fool as ye are, but when I heard that cankered dame wi’ the tear in -her een tell how his mother felt on her deathbed, and a’ about the -minister taking sic pains wi’ him, it gaed me to think o’ my ain mither -and the pains she took tae sae little purpose wi’ me. I thocht it my -duty to befriend him and gi’ him a chance in some gude family, and -aiblins it might be considered above, and make up for some o’ thae hard -things I am whiles compelled in my business to do. I did wrang -altogether; a soul-driver has nae concern wi’ feelings, nor conscience -either. He canna’ afford it, Rob, he suld be made o’ whin-stone, or he -canna thrive by soul-driving.” - -Mr. Wilson arrived in Lancaster county, within a few miles of the -residence of the Whitmans and their neighbors, the Nevins, Woods, and -Conlys, with only three redemptioners, who were already engaged to -farmers in the vicinity, and the boy Jim, who was so lame that he had -been obliged to take him along in a wagon. - - - - - CHAPTER IV. - THE WHITMAN FAMILY. - - -The starting of a boy in the right direction, and the imparting of that -bent he will retain through life, is a work the importance of which -cannot be overrated. That our readers may appreciate the force of these -influences about to be invoked to shape the future,—to fling a ray of -hope upon the briar-planted path of this pauper boy, and quicken to life -a spirit in which the germs of hope and the very aroma of youth seem to -have withered beneath the benumbing pressure of despair,—we desire to -acquaint them with the character of Bradford Whitman, to whose guiding -influence so shrewd a judge of character as Robert Wilson wished to -surrender his charge (and moreover resolved to leave no method untried -to effect it), and in no other way can this object be so effectually -accomplished as by our relating to them a conversation held by Whitman -and his wife in relation to the building of a new dwelling-house on the -homestead. - -Several of Whitman’s neighbors had pulled down the log-houses their -forefathers built and replaced them with stone, brick, or frame -buildings, but Bradford Whitman still lived in the log-house in which he -was born; it was, however, one of the best of the kind, built of -chestnut logs, with the tops and bottoms hewn to match, and the ends -squared and locked. - -Whitman was abundantly able to build a nice house, and only two days -before the event we are about to narrate occurred, mentioned the subject -to his wife, saying that several of the neighbors had either built or -were about to build new houses, and perhaps she felt as though they -ought to build one, but she replied,— - -“Bradford, you cannot build a better house than the old one, a warmer or -one more convenient for the work, nor could you find a lovelier spot to -set it on than this. It is close to the spring from which your father -drank when he first came here a strong lusty man, stronger, I have heard -you say, than any child he ever had. There’s many a bullet in these old -logs that were meant for him or some of his household.” - -“True enough, Alice, for Peter dug a bullet out last fall that came from -an Indian rifle, and made a plummet of it to rule his writing-book; but -the same may be said of many other houses in this neighborhood that have -been taken away to make room for others, for there are but few on which -the savage did not leave his mark.” - -“But I fear it would give the good old man a heartache to miss the house -in which his children were born, his wife died, all his hardships and -dangers were met and overcome, and his happiest days were spent. - -“A little jar will throw down a dish that is near the edge of the shelf; -the least breath will blow out a candle that’s just flickering in the -socket, and though I know he would not say a word, I am sure it would -make his heart bleed, and I fear hurry him out of the world. Besides, -husband, while your father lives your brothers and sisters will come -home at New Years, and I have not a doubt they would miss the old house -and feel that something heartsome and that could never be replaced, had -dropped out of their lives. I hardly think you care to do it yourself, -only you think that as we are now well to do, I have got ashamed of the -log-house, and want a two-story frame, or brick, or stone one, like some -of the neighbors.” - -“It would be very strange if you didn’t, wife.” - -“No, husband; I am not of that way of thinking at all. We have worked -too long and too hard for what we have got together to spend it on a -fine house. Here are some of our neighbors whom I could name who were -living easy, had a few hundred dollars laid by that were very convenient -when they had a sudden call for money, or wanted to buy stock, or hold a -crop of wheat over for a better market, but their wives put them up to -build a fine house. It cost more than they expected, as it always does, -and when they got the house, the old furniture that looked well enough -in the old house, didn’t compare at all with the new one, they had to be -at a great expense to go to the old settlements to buy fine things; it -took all the money they had saved up, and now those same people, when -they want to buy cattle or hire help, have to come to you to borrow the -money.” - -“That is true; for only yesterday a man who lives not three miles from -here, and who lives in a fine house, came to me on that same errand.” - -“No, husband; you and I are far enough along to be thinking less of mere -appearances than we might have done once. We have three children to -school and start in the world; a new house won’t do that, but the money -it would cost will.” - -“May the Lord bless you,” cried Bradford Whitman, imprinting a fervent -kiss on the lips of his wife, “and make me as thankful as I ought to be -for the best wife a man ever had. You have just spoken my own mind right -out.” - -Alice Whitman blushed with pleasure at the commendation of her husband -so richly deserved, and said,— - -“Husband, that is not all. If we have something laid by we can open our -hearts and hands to a neighbor’s necessities as we both like to do, and -I am sure I had much rather help a poor fatherless child, give food to -the hungry, or some comfort to a sick neighbor, than to live in a fine -house and have nice things that after all are not so comfortable nor -convenient as the old-fashioned ones.” - -“You are right wife, for when John Gillespie was killed by a falling -tree last winter and all the neighbors helped his widow and family, -William Vinton said his disposition was to do as much as any one, but he -hadn’t the means, and the reason was that the cost of his new house had -brought him into difficulties. I knew it gave him a heartache to refuse, -and I believe he would have much rather have had the old chest of -drawers and the log-house and been able to give something to the -fatherless, than to have the new house and the nice furniture and not be -able to help a neighbor in distress. I hope Alice you won’t object to -having the old house made a little better and more comfortable, -providing it can be done without much expense.” - -“If you will promise not to make it look _unnatural_, like an old man in -a young man’s clothes and wig, and if you meddle with the roof (as most -like you will) not to disturb the door that bears to-day the gash cut by -the Indian’s tomahawk who chased your mother into the house, and that -took the blow meant for her, nor meddle with the overhang above it, -through which your father fired down and shot him.” - -Bradford Whitman put a new roof on the house and ceiled the wall up -inside with panel work, thus hiding the old logs. He also laid board -floors instead of the old ones that were laid with puncheons (that is, -sticks of timber hewn on three sides) that were irregular, hard to sweep -over and to wash. But in his father’s bedroom he disturbed nothing, but -left both the walls and the floors as they were before. The grandfather, -though he made no remark, yet manifested some trepidation in his looks -when the roof was taken off, and the floors taken up, and seemed very -much relieved when he found that the walls on the outside were not -disturbed, that the old door with its wooden latch, hinges and huge -oaken bar, the former scarred with bullets and chipped with the -tomahawks of the savages, remained as before. And when he found that his -son, with a thoughtfulness that was part of his nature, had, after -ceiling up the kitchen, replaced in its brackets of deer’s horns over -the fireplace, the old rifle with which he had fought the savage and -obtained food for his family in the bitter days of the first hard -struggle for a foothold and a homestead, not only expressed decided -gratification with the change but to the great delight of Alice Whitman -desired that his bedroom might be panelled and have a board floor like -the rest of the house. And the delighted daughter-in-law covered it with -rugs, into the working of which were put all the ingenuity of hand and -brain she possessed. - -This was the family in which Robert Wilson desired to place James -Renfew, for notwithstanding in his passion, he had wished that James had -stuck the axe into his neck instead of his leg, he was really interested -in, and felt for, the lad, and wanted to help him. - -He knew Bradford Whitman well, knew that he was as shrewd as -kindly-affectioned, and that he was bitterly prejudiced against the -business of soul-driving in which he was engaged, as Wilson had for -years vainly endeavored to persuade him to take a redemptioner; but he -had heard from the miller that Mr. Whitman was coming to the mill in a -few days with wheat, and he resolved to make a desperate effort to -prevail upon him to take James. - -“He’s a kindly man,” said Wilson to the miller, “perhaps he’ll pity the -lad when he comes to see him.” - -“Yes, he is a kindly man but if he could be brought to think that it was -his _duty_ to take that boy, your work would be already done, and if he -_should_ take him, the boy is made for life, that is, if there’s -anything in him to make a man out of.” - -“Can’t you help me old acquaintance?” - -“I would gladly, Robert, but I don’t feel free to, for this reason. -Bradford Whitman is a kindly man as you say, and an upright man, and a -man of most excellent judgment, a man who knows how to make money and to -keep it and is able to do just as he likes. We have always been great -friends, but he is a man quite set in his way, and if I should influence -him to take this boy, about whom I know nothing, and he should turn out -bad (or what I think is most likely, to be stupid and not worth his -salt) he never would forget it.” - -But notwithstanding the backwardness of the miller to aid his friend, -the Being who is wont to shape the affairs of men and bring about events -in the most natural manner, and one noticed only by the most thoughtful, -was all unbeknown to the soul-driver preparing instrumentalities and -setting in operation causes a thousand times more effective than the -efforts of the miller (had he done his best), to bring about the purpose -Wilson had at heart. - - - - - CHAPTER V. - THE UNSEEN HAND. - - -As the Whitmans were seated at the supper-table of an autumn evening, -Peter, the eldest boy, who had just returned from the store, reported -that Wilson, the soul-driver, had come to the village and put up at -Hanscom’s tavern, with some redemptioners, and that Mr. Wood, one of -their neighbors, who had engaged one the last spring, was going over to -get his man, and they said there was a boy he hadn’t engaged, and wanted -some one to take him off his hands. - -“From my heart I pity these poor forlorn creatures,” said the mother; -“brought over here to a strange land with nothing but the clothes on -their backs, and how they will be treated and whose hands they will fall -into, they don’t know.” - -After the meal they all drew together around the fire, that the season -of the year made agreeable. - -The children, hoping to obtain some old-time story from their -grandfather, drew his large chair with its stuffed back and cushion, -worked in worsted by the cunning hand of their mother, into his -accustomed corner. Bradford Whitman sat in a meditative mood, with hands -clasped over his knees, watching the sparks go up the great chimney. - -“Bradford,” said the old gentleman, “I have sometimes wondered that you -don’t take one of these redemptioners; you are obliged to hire a good -deal, and it is often difficult to get help when it is most needed.” - -“I know that there are a good many of these people hired by farmers; -sometimes it turns out well, but often they are villains. Sometimes have -concealed ailments and prove worthless; at other times stay through the -winter, and after they have learned the method of work here, run off and -hire out for wages in some other part of the country.” - -“Husband, Mr. Wilson has been many years in this business, and I never -knew _him_ to bring any people of bad character.” - -“He is too shrewd a Scotchman to do it knowingly, but he is liable to be -deceived. I have thought and said that nothing would ever tempt me to -have anything to do with a redemptioner, but when Peter came to tell -about that boy it seemed to strike me differently. I said to myself, -this is a new thing. Here’s a boy flung on the world in a strange land, -with nobody to guide him, and about certain to suffer, because there are -not many who would want a boy (for it would cost as much for his passage -as that of a man), and he will be about sure to fall into bad hands and -take to bad ways; whereas he is young, and if there was any one who -would take the pains to guide him he might become a useful man.” - -“That, husband, is just the light in which it appears to me.” - -“So it seemed to me there was a duty for somebody concerning that boy, -that there wouldn’t be allowing he was a man. When I cast about me I -couldn’t honestly feel that there was any person in this neighborhood -could do such a thing with less put-out to themselves than myself. Still -I can’t feel that it’s my duty; he might turn out bad and prove a great -trial, and I am not inclined to stretch out my arm farther than I can -draw it back.” - -“My father,” said the old gentleman, “was a poor boy, born of poor -parents on the Isle of Wight. His father got bread for a large family by -fishing, and by reaping in harvest; and his mother sold the fish, and -gleaned after the reapers in wheat and barley harvest. The children as -they grew large enough went out to service.” - -“What was his name?” said Peter. - -“Henry.” - -“What relation was he to me?” said Bert. - -“Your great-grandfather. When he was sixteen years old, with the consent -of his parents, he came to Philadelphia in a vessel as passenger, and -worked his passage by waiting on the cook and the cabin passengers. The -captain spoke so well of him that a baker took him into his shop to -carry bread. A farmer who hauled fagots to heat the baker’s oven offered -to hire him by the year to work on his farm, and he worked with him till -he was twenty-one. After that he worked for others, and then took what -little money he had, and your grandmother who was as poor as himself, -for her parents died when she was young and she was put out to a farmer, -and they went into the wilderness. They cleared a farm and paid for it, -raised eight children, six boys and two girls. I was the youngest boy; -my brothers and sisters all did well, they and their husbands acquired -property and owned farms. Your mother and I came on to this land when it -was a forest. I with my narrow axe, she with her spinning-wheel; and a -noble helpmate she was as ever a man was blessed with.” - -The old gentleman’s voice trembled, he dashed a tear from his eye and -went on. “We raised eleven children, they all grew to man’s and woman’s -estate, the girls have married well, the four boys are all well-to-do -farmers and prospering. There are nineteen farmers and farmers’ wives -without counting their children, and not a miserable idle “shack” among -them; all of whom sprang by the father’s side from that poor boy who was -the poorest of the poor, and worked his passage to this country, but -found in a strange land friends to guide him. So you see what good may -come from a friendless boy, if he is well-minded and helped.” - -“You know, husband, the children have a long distance to go in the -winter to school, and a boy like that would be a great help about the -barn and to cut firewood, or go into the woods with you. The clothing of -him would not be much, for I could make both the cloth and the clothes, -and as for his living, what is one more spoon in the platter? And in -regard to the money for his passage you know we haven’t built any new -house, and so you won’t need to borrow the money.” - -“Wife, if you want to take that boy, I’ll start off to-morrow morning -and get him.” - -“I want you to do just as you think best in regard to taking anybody, -either boy or man. We are only talking the matter over in all its -bearings, and as you brought up the disadvantages and risks, your father -and myself were bringing up something to balance them; it is not a very -easy matter to decide, at any rate.” - -“But father,” cried Peter, “Bertie and Maria and I want you to take -him.” - -“Why do you want me to take him?” - -“‘Cause we want him to come here and grow up to be a great, smart, good -man, just like our great-grandfather—and as grandfather says he will.” - -“And we want to help about it and befriend him,” put in Bertie. - -“And me, too,” cried Maria; “I want to befriend him.” - -“No, Peter, I didn’t say he _would_ become a good man, because no one -knows that but a higher Power. I said that to my certain knowledge one -boy did, and that ought to be an encouragement to people to put other -boys in the way of making something.” - -“Well, that’s what grandpa means,” said Peter, resolved to carry his -point. - -“Father,” said Maria, “I want you to take him, ‘cause if Peter or Bertie -was carried ‘way off where they didn’t know anybody, and where their -father and mother wasn’t, they would want somebody who was good, to ask -‘em to come to their house and give them something to eat.” - -“Wife, where did Peter get all this news that seems to have set him and -the rest half crazy?” - -“At Hooper’s, the shoemaker. He went to get his shoes, and Mr. Hooper -told him that his father-in-law, John Wood, was going to-morrow to -Hanscom’s tavern to get a redemptioner Mr. Wilson had brought over for -him, and that neighbor Wood wanted him to get word to you that Wilson -had a man and a boy left. Mr. Wood wants you to go over with him -to-morrow and take the boy; he says you couldn’t do better.” - -“I am going over there day after to-morrow to haul some wheat that I -have promised; if the boy is there I shall most likely see him.” - -“Oh, father, before that time somebody else may get him.” - -“Well, Peter, let them have him; if he gets a place, that’s all that is -needed.” - -“But perhaps ‘twon’t be a good man like you who’ll get him.” - -“He may be a great deal better man.” - -More enthusiastic and persistent than her brothers, and unable to sleep, -the little girl lay wakeful in her trundle-bed till her mother and -father had retired, and then crawling in between them, put her arms -around her father’s neck and whispered,— - -“Father, you will take the boy, won’t you?” - -“My dear child, you don’t know what you are talking about. I have not -set eyes on him yet, and perhaps when I come to see him he will appear -to me to be a bad, or stupid, or lazy boy, and then you yourself would -not want me to take him.” - -“No, father; but if you like the looks of him, and Peter likes the looks -of him, ‘cause if Peter likes him Bertie and I shall, will you take him -then?” - -“I’ll think about it, my little girl, and now get into your bed and -cuddle down and go to sleep.” - -Instead of that, however, she crept to the other side of the bed, hid -her face in her mother’s bosom and sobbed herself to sleep. - -Notwithstanding the entreaties of the children, their father remained -firm in his purpose, but, at the time he had set, started, taking Peter -with him, as the lad was to have a pair of new shoes. He was also to buy -the cloth to make Bertie a go-to-meeting suit, as the cloth for the best -clothes was bought, and made up by their mother who wove all the cloth -for every-day wear. He was also to buy a new shawl for Maria, and get a -bonnet for her that her mother had selected some days before. In the -mean time Peter had received the most solemn charges from both Bertie -and Maria, “to tease and tease and tease their father to take the boy.” -Just as they were starting Maria clambered up to the seat of the wagon -and whispered in his ear,— - -“If father won’t take him, you cry; cry like everything.” - -Peter promised faithfully that he would. - -When the sound of wagon wheels had died away in the distance, Bertie and -Maria endeavored to extract some consolation by interrogating their -mother, and Bertie asked if she expected their father would bring home -the boy. - -“Your father, children, will do what he thinks to be his duty, and for -the best, but there is an unseen hand that guides matters of this kind. -I shall not be very much surprised if the boy should come with them.” - -No sooner was the wheat unloaded than Peter entreated his father to go -and see the redemptioner. - -“Not yet, my son, I must go and pay a bill at Mr. Harmon’s, he is going -to Lancaster to-day to buy goods and wants the money. And then I must -get your new shoes and the cloth for Bertie’s suit, and a bonnet and -shawl for Maria, and _then_ we will go.” - -“Couldn’t you pay the bill please, and get our things after you see the -redemptioner?” - -“I don’t know, I’ll see.” - -The truth of the fact was, Mr. Whitman was sorry that he had expressed -before his family the transient thought that crossed his mind in regard -to the boy, because he felt that his wife and father were anxious that -he should take him, although they disclaimed any desire to influence his -actions; and being an indulgent parent, the clamorous eagerness of the -children aided to complicate the matter. He likewise felt that he had so -far committed himself, he must at least go and look at this lad, though -inclined to do it in that leisurely way in which a man sets about an -unpleasant duty. But, to the great delight of Peter, before the horses -had finished their provender, Mr. Wilson himself appeared on the ground. - -“Good morning, Mr. Whitman. I understand from Mr. Wood, to whom I have -brought a man, that you want a boy. I have a boy and a man at the public -house and would like to have you step over and look at them.” - -“I have never said to neighbor Wood nor to any one that I wanted a -redemptioner; he must either have got it from Peter here, through some -one else, or have imagined it. All I ever had to do in the matter was to -say, when we were talking in the family about your having a boy among -your men, that I did not know but it might be my duty to take the boy. -It was however merely a passing thought. I have about made up my mind -that I will have nothing to do with it, and I do not think it is worth -while (as I have met you) for me to go and see either of them.” - -“You had better go look at them, your horses have not yet finished -eating.” - -“I am an outspoken man, Mr. Wilson, and make free to tell you I don’t -like this buying and selling of flesh and blood. It seems to me too much -like slavery, which I never could endure. I think a capable man like you -had better take up with some other calling, and I don’t care to -encourage you in this. If you’ll buy oxen or horses or wheat I’ll trade -with you, but I don’t care to trade in human bodies or souls.” - -“I know, Mr. Whitman, that we are called _soul-drivers_, and a great -many hard things are said of us, but just look at the matter for a -moment free from prejudice. Here is a young able-bodied man on the other -side, willing to work, but there is no work to be had, and he must do -one of three things—starve, steal, or beg; there is a farmer in -Pennsylvania who wants help but can’t get it. I introduce these men to -each other and benefit both. The farmer gets help to handle his wheat, -the poor starving man bread to eat, he learns the ways of the country, -and when his time is out can find work anywhere and become an owner of -land. You know yourself, Mr. Whitman, that within ten, twelve, and -twenty miles of here, yes, within five, are living to-day persons, -owners of good farms and one of them a _selectman_, another of them -married to his employer’s daughter, who were all brought over by me, and -came in rags, and who would not care to have their own children know -that they were redemptioners.” - -“I’ve no doubt but that like everything else almost in this world, the -business has its benefits. And by picking out the best and leaving out -the worst parts of it, you may make a plausible showing so far as you -are concerned, but you know yourself that it is liable to be abused, and -is abused every day, and I don’t care to have anything to do with it.” - -“But father,” cried Peter, with the tears in his eyes, “you _promised_ -me you would go and see him when the horses had done eating.” - -“I forgot that, then I will go; I never break a promise.” - -“I will bring the boy here,” said Wilson, “it is but a few steps.” - -“Perhaps that is the best way, as, now I think of it, I want to trade -with the miller for some flour.” - -Wilson soon returned with our old acquaintance Foolish Jim, very little -improved in appearance, as his clothes, though whole, did not by any -means fit him. His trowsers were too short for his long limbs, and his -legs stuck through them a foot, and they were so tight across the hips -as to seriously interfere with locomotion. As to the jacket, it was so -small over the shoulders and around the waist it could not be buttoned; -a large breadth of shirt not over clean was visible between the -waistcoat and trowsers, as instead of breeches he wore loose pants or -sailor trowsers and no suspenders. The sleeves, too short, exposed -several inches of large square-boned black wrists, and on his head was a -Highland cap, from under which escaped long tangled locks of very fine -hair; and his skin, where not exposed to the weather, was fair. Jim was -so lame that he walked with great difficulty by the help of a large -fence stake, his right leg being bandaged below the knee, and he was -barefoot. He wore the same stolid, hopeless look as of old, and which -instantly excited the pity and moved the sympathies of Peter to the -utmost. - -His father, on the other hand, could not repress a smile as he gazed on -the uncouth figure before him. - -“Do you call him a boy, Wilson? If he was anything but skin and bones he -would be as heavy as I am, near about.” - -“Yes I call him a boy, because he’s only nineteen, though there’s -considerable of him.” - -“There’s warp enough, as my wife would say, but there’s a great lack of -filling.” - -“He’s a wonderfully strong creature, see what bones and muscles he’s -got.” - -The miller rolled out three barrels of flour for Whitman, and he and -Wilson went into the mill leaving James seated on one of the barrels. - -“What do you think of him?” said Wilson when they were inside? - -“I think I don’t want anything to do with him. What do you think I want -of a cripple?” - -“That’s nothing; he cut himself with an axe after we landed, and I had -to carry him in a wagon, but it’s only a flesh wound. He’s got a good -pair of shoes, but has been so used to going barefoot that they make his -feet swell.” - -“The boy looks well enough, Mr. Wilson, if he was put into clothes that -fitted him; is handsomely built, has good features, good eyes and a -noble set of teeth, and that’s always a sign of a good constitution. But -there don’t seem to be anything _young_ about him, and if he had the use -of both legs seems to have hardly life enough to get about. He is like -an old man in a young man’s skin. Then he has such a forlorn look out of -his eyes, as though he hadn’t a friend in the world, and never expected -to have.” - -“Well, he hasn’t, except you and I prove his friends. It is the misery, -the downright anguish and poverty that has taken the juice of youth out -of that boy. He never knew what it was to have a home, and no one ever -cared whether he died or lived, but there is youth and strength; and -kind treatment and good living, such as I know he would get with you, -will bring him up.” - -“Where did you get him that he should have neither parents, relatives, -nor friends?” - -“From a parish workhouse.” - -“I judged as much.” - -“They gave him up, and he is bound to me.” - -“It was not much of a gift; I wonder so shrewd a man as I know you to be -should have taken him with the expectation that anybody would ever take -him off your hands.” - -“I know, Mr. Whitman, you think we are all a set of brutes, and buy and -sell these men just as a drover does cattle, but there’s a _little_ -humanity about some of us, after all.” - -He then related the circumstances with which our readers are already -familiar, saying, as he concluded the narration,— - -“When I saw those miserable wretches with whom he was brought up, -dressed up in stolen clothes, and he in rags that were dropping off him; -heard them call him a fool because he would neither beg, lie, swear nor -steal; and when, being determined to know the truth of it, I inquired -and heard the story of the old nurse at the workhouse confirmed by the -parish authorities,—a change came over me, and I determined to take this -boy, but from very different motives from those that influenced me at -first.” - -“How so?” - -“You see I had engaged, and had to pay for, berths to accommodate -thirteen men, had been disappointed and had but twelve. The vessel was -about ready for sea, I had to pick up some one in a hurry and thought I -would take this boy. I knew I could get rid of him somehow so as to make -myself whole in the matter of trade. But when I heard about the poor -dying mother, and the good minister, I determined to take that boy, -bring him over here, put him in some good family and give him a chance; -and that family was yours, Mr. Whitman, and I have never offered this -boy to any one else, never shall. If you do not take him I shall carry -him to my house.” - -“Body of me, why then did you come within two miles of your own house -and bring him here? And what reason could you have for thinking that I -of all persons in the State would take him?” - -“I will tell you. You and I have known each other for more than -twenty-five years. I have during that time felt the greatest respect for -you, though you perhaps have cherished very little for me. I know how -you treat your hired help and children, and believed that there was -something in this boy after all,—stupid as misery has made him -appear,—and that you could bring it out both for your benefit and his, -whereas I cannot stay at home. I must be away the greater part of the -time about my business, and at my place he would be left with my wife or -hired men and small children. If I was to be at home, I would not part -with him even to yourself.” - -Peter could restrain himself no longer, but climbing upon the curbing of -the millstone near which his father stood, flung his arms around his -parent’s neck, exclaiming,— - -“Oh, father, do take him! I’ll go without my new shoes; Maria says she -will go without her new bonnet and shawl, and Bertie will go without his -new suit, if you will only take him. Grandpa wants you to take him, and -so does mother, though they didn’t like to say so. I can tell by -mother’s looks when she wants anything.” - -Peter burst into a flood of real heartfelt tears, that would have -satisfied both his brother and sister had they witnessed it. - -“Be quiet, my son; I’ll see about it.” - -Wilson then handed him a certificate from the parish authorities, in -which they declared: “That the boy James Renfew had been under their -charge since he was three years of age, and that he was in every respect -of the best moral character.” - -After reading this document Whitman said: “This is a strange story, yet -I see no reason to doubt it; neither do I doubt it, nor wonder that you -took the boy.” - -“If you had been in my place, and seen and heard what I did, you would -have taken him in a moment. Those workhouse brats all have their -friends, and enjoy themselves in their way together. But because this -boy would not do as they did, they hated him and called him a fool, till -I believe he thought he was a fool; and I don’t know where they would -have stopped, short of murder, had it not been for one thing.” - -“What was that?” - -“The authorities told me that it was possible by long tormenting to get -his temper up, and then he was like a tiger, and so strong that they -were all afraid of him, and glad to let him alone. He seemed to me (so -innocent among those villains) like a pond lily that I have often -wondered to see growing in stagnant water, its roots in the mud and its -flower white as snow spread out on that black surface. He was, poor -fellow, shut out from all decent society because he was a workhouse boy; -and from all bad because he was a good boy. No wonder he looks forlorn.” - -“Can he do any kind of work?” - -“I will call him and ask him.” - -“No matter now. What do you want for your interest in this boy?” - -“The passage-money, eight pounds.” - -“But you have a percentage for your labor, and you were at expense -keeping him at a public house, and after he was lame had to carry him in -a wagon.” - -“My usual fees and the expenses would be about ten dollars. I will make -him over to you (as he is a boy and has about everything to learn before -he can be of much use) for four years for eight pounds. And if at the -end of a year you are dissatisfied, you may pay me the ten dollars, and -I will take him off your hands and agree in writing to pay you back the -eight pounds, in order that you may see that I do not want to put the -boy on you, just to be rid of him. - -“I will take him, and if he runs away, let him run; I shall not follow -him.” - -“Run?” said the miller; “when you have had him a fortnight, you could -not set dogs enough on him to drive him off.” - -“I shall not take him but with his free consent, and not till the matter -is fully explained to him, Mr. Wilson.” - -“Explained, you _can’t_ explain it to him; why he’s as ignorant as one -of your oxen.” - -“So much the more necessary that the attempt should be made. I never -will buy a fellow-creature as I would buy a “shote” out of a drove.” - -“You are not buying, you are hiring him.” - -“Nor hire him of somebody else without his free consent.” - -The boy was now called and Wilson said to him,— - -“Jim, will you go to live with that man,” pointing to Mr. Whitman, “for -four years?” - -“He my master?” said the boy, pointing in his turn to Mr. Whitman. - -“Yes. He’ll give you enough to eat every-day, and good clothes to keep -you warm.” - -“I’ll go, have plenty to eat, warm place to sleep, clothes keep me -warm.” - -“You are to work for this man, do everything he tells you.” - -“I love to work,” replied the boy with a faint smile. - -“Tell him about the length of time,” said Whitman. - -“You are to stay with him four years.” - -“Don’t know.” - -“He don’t know how long a year is,” said the miller. - -“You are to stay four summers.” - -“I know, till wheat ripe, get reaped, put in the stack four times?” -counting on his fingers. - -“That is it.” - -“Yes I go, I stay.” - -“What can you do James?” said Mr. Whitman. - -“I can break stones for the road, and pick oakum, and sort hairs for -brushmakers, and make skewers for butchers.” - -“What else can you do?” - -“I can drive horses to plough.” - -“That indeed! what else my lad?” - -“I can milk cows, and reap grain, and thrash wheat, and break flax.” - -“What else?” - -“I can hoe turnips, mow grass, and stook up grain.” - -“That is a great deal more than I expected,” said Whitman. - -The money was paid, and the writings drawn, at the miller’s desk who was -a justice. James made his mark at the bottom of the articles of -agreement, and Mr. Whitman gave an agreement to him, after reading and -explaining it to him. - -When they left the mill three barrels of flour were lying at the tail of -Mr. Whitman’s wagon. - -“Jim,” said Wilson, “put those barrels into that cart.” - -He took hold of the barrels and pitched them one after another into the -cart, without bringing a flush to his pale cheek, though it burst open -the tight fitting jacket across the shoulders,—while Peter clapped his -hands in mingled pleasure and wonder. - -“You won’t find many boys, Mr. Whitman, who can do that, and there are -twenty _men_ who can’t do it, where there is one who can. He’ll break -pitchfork handles for you, when he gets his hand in, and his belly full -of Pennsylvania bread and beef.” - -Mr. Whitman did not take advantage of the self-denying offer of his -children, who had volunteered to give up their new clothes as an -inducement to their father to take the boy, but procured them all as he -had at first intended. - -After calling at the public house to get James’ bundle, they turned the -heads of the horses homeward; refreshed by provender and a long rest, -and relieved of their load, they whirled the heavy wagon along at a -spanking trot. Peter in great spirits kept chattering incessantly, but -James sat silent and stoical as an Indian at the stake, apparently no -more affected by the change of masters than a stone. - -Wilson compromised with his conscience by putting the boy into a good -family, and consulted his interest by putting the eight pounds in his -own pocket,—since the workhouse authorities had paid the passage-money -to the captain of the brig Betsy,—which he probably felt justified in -doing, as he had agreed and was holden to take the boy back if Whitman -at the end of a year required. He really meant to do it and keep the boy -himself, and do well by him, for like most men he acted from mixed -motives. It is easy to see, however, that he was not so thoroughly -upright as Bradford Whitman. - -Thus was the _unseen hand_, spoken of by Alice Whitman, guiding both the -soul-driver and the Pennsylvania farmer, though they knew it not, and in -accordance with the prayers of that Christian mother whose last thought -was for her child. - - - - - CHAPTER VI. - “THERE’S LIFE IN HIM YET.” - - -In due time it appeared that this silent boy had been taking careful -note of the household arrangements and the routine of work. James had -hitherto slept till called to breakfast, but one morning Mr. Whitman at -rising found the fire built, the teakettle on, the horses fed, and James -up and dressed. As they were about to go to milking he took the pail -from Mrs. Whitman and said he would milk. - -“You may take this pail, James, and I’ll take another; the sooner the -cows are out the better. Sometime when I’m in a hurry, or when it rains, -you can milk my cows.” - -After breakfast James, without being told, began to clean the horses. -They were harvesting the last of the potato crop, and Mr. Whitman, -wishing to ascertain how much the boy really knew in regard to handling -horses, asked him if he could put the horses on the cart and bring it -out at night to haul in the potatoes as they sorted them on the ground. -James replied that the harnesses were not like those to which he had -been accustomed, but thought he could get them on. At the time he came -with the cart, it was evident that he was no novice in handling horses, -and that the animals knew it as he backed up his load to the cellar door -in a workmanlike manner. - -Mr. Whitman expressed his approbation very decidedly, and Peter said -afterwards,— - -“Father, he was ever so much pleased that you told him to bring out the -cart, and that you liked what he did.” - -“How do you know that? What did he say?” - -“He didn’t _say_ anything, but I have got so that I can tell when he is -pleased.” - -Saturday evening came, work was cleared up early, and preparation made -for the Sabbath in accordance with the custom of our forefathers. - -“This boy, husband, must not grow up among us like a heathen. He must go -to meeting, and I must make him a good suit of clothes to go with.” - -“He is farther removed from being a heathen if, as is reported of him, -he will neither swear, lie nor steal, than some among ourselves who go -to meeting every Sabbath and yet are guilty of all three. I intend that -he shall not only go to meeting but to school as well.” - -“I thought the only thing that made you ever think of getting a boy at -all, was to have his help in the short days of winter, as the children -have not time to do the chores before they go, and after they get home, -from school.” - -“True, but since I have learned that he is ignorant of everything that -he ought to know, except what he learned by rote from the lips of that -minister, I feel that it becomes my duty to send him to school. A boy -who has made so good use of what he does know, in spite of poverty and -persecution, certainly deserves to be further instructed.” - -“Then I must teach him his letters. I never would send one of my own -children to school till they knew their letters; I won’t him.” - -“How will you ever get the time with all you have to do?” - -“I’ll take the time, and Bertie can help me.” - -“I’ll help you, mother. I’m going to teach him to tell the time of day -by the clock. I asked him if he would like to have me teach him, and he -said he would. He can swim and fire a gun first rate. I got him to talk -a little yesterday; he said he worked with a farmer who gave him powder -and small shot and kept him shooting sparrows that eat up the grain. And -after that he was all summer with the gamekeeper on a nobleman’s place, -and used to shoot hawks and owls; he says they call ‘em vermin there; -and he used to drive horses for weeks together.” - -There were no Sabbath-schools in those days, but after meeting on -Sabbath afternoon Mr. Whitman catechized his children. They were all -assembled in the kitchen, and he put to Peter the first question: - -“What is the chief end of man?” Peter replied,— - -“To glorify God and enjoy him forever;” when James exclaimed abruptly,— - -“I know that man.” - -“What man?” - -“God. Mr. Holmes used to tell me about him; and he’s a Lord, too,—he -made the Lord’s prayer and the Bible, and made me, and every kind of a -thing that ever was, or ever will be.” - -“Mercy sakes, James!” cried Mrs. Whitman, holding up both her hands in -horror; “God is not a man.” - -“I thought he was a great big man, bigger than kings or queens; and I -heard a minister what came to the workhouse read in the Bible, ‘The Lord -is a man of war.’” - -“He is indeed greater than all other beings; but he is not a man, but a -spirit, and they that worship him, must worship him in spirit and in -truth.” - -“What is a spirit?” - -“Don’t you know what a spirit is, what your own spirit is?” - -“No.” - -“Oh, dear! What shall we do with him, Mr. Whitman? We shall be -accountable for him; we must get the minister to come and talk with -him.” - -“Tut, the minister would not do any better with him than yourself, not -as well. Wait till he goes to school, and when he comes to obtain -knowledge in general, he’ll find out the distinction between flesh and -spirit. All will come about in proper time and place, as it has with our -children—they had to learn it, and so will he.” - -“What else did Mr. Holmes tell you?” said Mrs. Whitman. - -“He told me the prayer and said God made it, said you must remember the -Sabbath day to keep it holy. Mustn’t work that day nor play; that you -mustn’t lie nor steal nor swear for God didn’t like it, and if you did -he wouldn’t like you. He told me the commandments. Then I promised him I -would say the prayer every night and morning, and I have. I promised him -I would never lie nor steal nor swear, and I never did. I would be cut -in pieces first.” - -“Where do you think you will go to when you die?” - -“I shall go to heaven. Mr. Holmes said he expected to go there, and if I -did as he told me, I would go there and be with him. I want to go there -to see him. He’ll take me on his knees and kiss me just as he used to -do; nobody ever loved me only Mr. Holmes, and I never loved anybody else -only him.” - -“Didn’t he never tell you about your mother?” - -“Yes, and said she died praying for me; and gave me a bible that was my -mother’s, her name is in it, but I can’t read it, though I know where it -is.” - -He drew a bible from his breast pocket and pointed with his finger to -the fly-leaf, on which was written “Estelle Whitneys, her book, bought -while at service at Bolton Le Moors.” - -Bertie, who had become intensely interested in this narration, entreated -that he might have the sole care of instructing James, and as the -evenings were now quite long, the time after supper was devoted to that -purpose. As they took supper at an early hour this afforded them a good -opportunity, James being excused from milking and all other work at that -hour. James stipulated that he should first of all be taught to tell the -time by the clock. He was soon able to tell the hours and half hours and -quarters, and by the next Sabbath had mastered the minutes and seconds. - -It was the intention of Mr. Whitman to ascertain and bring out the -capabilities of the boy by leaving him as much as possible to his own -direction, hoping in that way to stimulate thought, and cultivate a -spirit of self-reliance. He had engaged to haul another load of wheat to -the miller, and also wanted to have some corn (that the old grandfather -had shelled) ground, and the horses required shoeing, and as James had -recovered from his lameness, and was able to carry the bags of grain -into the mill, resolved to entrust him with the errand. - -Mrs. Whitman demurred at this, saying that the horses had not done much -work of late, and were full of life; that he did not know anything about -James, whether he was capable of driving a team with a valuable load on -a long hilly road or not. Besides he knew neither the way to the mill, -nor to the smith’s shop. - -“I’ve watched his movements with the horses, and I’ll risk him. He is -altogether different from one of our boys, who are quite likely to -undertake more than they can perform, and will hesitate at nothing. I’ll -ask him, and if he is willing to do it, I’ll let him go, and send Bert -with him to show him the way, and tell the miller and blacksmith what I -want done.” - -“Why don’t you send Peter with him, and then all will go right?” - -“That would be just to take the business out of his hands and spoil the -whole thing; whereas I want to put it into his hands and give him the -sole management of the team.” - -James professing his readiness to go, the pair set out taking their -dinner with them. Bertie was heard chattering, expatiating upon the good -qualities of the horses, and telling James their names, ages, and -pedigree, till his voice became inaudible in the distance. - -“If he rides eight miles with Bert and don’t talk any, he will do more -than I think he can,” said Mr. Whitman, as he looked after them, not -without a shade of anxiety upon his face as he remarked the rate at -which the spirited team whirled the heavy load down a long reach of -descending ground, snorting as they travelled. It passed off however, as -he saw that James had them well in hand, and stopped them to breathe at -the foot of the first sharp rise. They returned, having accomplished -their errand, and after James had eaten his supper and retired, Mr. -Whitman said to Bertie,— - -“I did not expect you for an hour and a half, as you had to get a grist -ground, and the horses shod, and one of them shod all round.” - -“Everything worked just as well as it could. There was no grist in the -mill, and Mr. Lunt turned our corn right up. I took the horses right to -the blacksmith’s and found Joe Bemis sitting on the anvil smoking his -pipe. Wasn’t I glad! So he went right at the horses. When I got back -James had carried in every bag of the wheat, and the grist was in the -wagon, and all we had to do was to feed the horses, eat ourselves, and -start. Mother Whitman, we found the prettiest place to eat! a little -cleft in the rocks, a birch tree growing out of it. Father, a bag of -wheat is just nothing to James, he’s awful strong.” - -“What did Mr. Lunt say to him?” - -“Don’t you think he didn’t know him?” - -“Didn’t know him?” - -“No, sir; and asked me who that man was with the team; and when I told -him it was the redemptioner you had of Mr. Wilson he wouldn’t believe it -for ever so long, and said he didn’t look like the same man. No, he -don’t father; he gets up and sits down quicker, and he was just pale, -but now there’s a little red spot in the middle of each cheek. His -cheeks were hollow and the skin was drawn tight over the bone, and -looked all glossy, same as the bark on a young apple-tree where the -sheep rub against it in the spring. He looked kinder,—what is it you -call it mother, when you talk about sick folks?” - -“Emaciated?” - -“That’s it; he looked emaciated but he don’t now.” - -“How did you find the road?” - -“They have been working on the road in the Showdy district, and it was -very bad, and the worst hills are there, too. - -“If I had known that, I would not have put on so much load. Did you have -any trouble? Did James have to strike the horses, or did he get stuck?” - -“He never struck them nor spoke to them, only chirruped, ‘cept once, and -that was on Shurtleffs hill. The nigh wheel sunk into a hole into which -they had hauled soft mud, and he said ‘Lift again Frank!’ Then old Frank -straightened himself, and took it out with a great snort, and when he -stopped him on top of the hill I could see the muscles on the old -fellow’s shoulder twitch and quiver.” - -“Did he talk with you any, going to the mills?” said the mother. - -“Never opened his mouth from the time we started till we got there, but -once; when he said it was a noble span of horses.” - -“Then you think it is safe to send him with a team?” - -“Safe, mother? he knows all about it. How to guide four horses or six, -and the horses know it, and do what he asks ‘em to. Frank thinks he -knows, and Dick does just as Frank tells him, for Dick hasn’t any mind -of his own.” - -“How do you know what Frank thinks?” - -“Mother, you may laugh, but I know what Frank thinks just as well as I -know what our Maria thinks. And he likes James, too; for when he hears -his step he’ll begin to look, and when James pats him he’ll bend his -neck and put his nose on his shoulder. Frank wouldn’t do that to anybody -he didn’t like.” - -“Shouldn’t think,” said Peter, “he’d be very good company on the road if -he wouldn’t say anything.” - -“When he sat down to eat he talked a lot. Said he never saw an ox yoked -in England,—that they did all their work with horses; called ‘em -bullocks and killed ‘em for beef; said they didn’t have any of our kind -of corn there, and the farmers gave their horses beans for provender, -and only a few oats, and that they fatted their hogs on peas and barley. -He said the beans they gave their horses were larger than ours. That -they had no woods, only scattering trees in the hedges, and all their -land, except where it was too rocky to plough, was just like our fields. -They would plough and plant and sow it ever so long, and then make -pasture of it and plough up what was pasture before, and keep twice as -many cattle on the same ground as we do.” - -“I never thought,” said Mrs. Whitman, “that he would talk so much as -that; or that he knew so much about any kind of business.” - -“Why mother, he knows more than I do, if I am his teacher.” - -“I asked him why he, and the men who came over in the vessel with him, -couldn’t work in England and get their living, instead of going to the -poorhouse, or selling themselves to come over and work.” - -“What did he say to that?” inquired the father. - -“He said there were so many folks wanted to work, there was no work for -them, and because there were so many, the farmers would only give those -they did hire just enough to keep alive; and if they were taken sick, or -lame, or had no work, they must go to the workhouse. - -“He said they used to send him away to farmers, and they would keep him -all summer, make him work very hard, and not give him half so much to -eat as he had at the workhouse, and after they got their harvest all in, -carry him back and say he was good for nothing, so as not to keep him in -the winter. - -“I asked him if the workhouse folks ever drove him off, he said no, but -it seemed so much like begging to ask them, that rather than do it he -had gone three days without anything but water and a little milk. - -“I asked him how he came to think of coming here. He said he knew winter -was coming on, he had no work, no clothes, and not a friend in the -world, and one day after the rest of the boys had been abusing him and -calling him a fool, and showing him things they had stolen, he put some -stones in his pocket and went down to the water to kill himself, but -something told him not to, and he flung ‘em away. And the next day Mr. -Wilson came along and asked him to go to America, and he thought he -couldn’t be in any worse place, and couldn’t suffer any more so he -came.” - -“What did you say to that?” - -“Father, I’d rather not tell.” - -“You cried,” said Maria, “I know he did, father, he’s most crying now.” - -“I couldn’t help it May, and I guess you couldn’t have helped it -neither, if you had only seen how pitiful he looked, and how sad his -voice sounded.” - -“What did he say when he found you cried?” - -“He put his arm round me and said ‘don’t cry Bertie,’ and said he was -sorry he made me feel bad. I tell you, all of you, I love him, I know -he’s good as he can be, and I knew he was from the first, ‘cause I saw -Frank loved him. Frank knows I tell you.” - -“I suppose Frank will love anybody who’ll feed and make much of him.” - -“No he won’t father, because there was Mike Walsh who stole your coat, -and ran off after you overpaid him, would feed him and try every way to -get the right side of him, but he couldn’t, and Frank would bite him -whenever he could get a chance; and you know father he couldn’t catch -him in the pasture.” - -“Did he talk with you on the way home?” - -“Never opened his mouth only to say ‘yes,’ or ‘no,’ or ‘don’t know.’” - -“I shouldn’t think you’d like him so much as though he talked more, I -shouldn’t,” said Maria. - -“Who wants anybody all the time a gabbing just like Matt Saunders when -she comes here to help mother draw a web into the loom, her tongue going -all the time like a pullet when she’s laid her first egg. I’ve heard -mother say it was just like the letting out of water, but when James -says anything there’s some sense to it,” retorted Bertie resolved in the -enthusiasm of friendship that no fault should be found in his _protégé_. - -“Ain’t you glad you took him, father?” - -“I took him because I thought it to be my duty, and I think we always -feel best when we have done our duty,” replied the cautious parent. - -“I am!” exclaimed the grandparent, “what a sin and a shame it would have -been for a young able-bodied man like that to have remained starving in -rags, scorned by the sweepings of a workhouse, because he could find no -work by which to earn his bread, had too much pride of character to beg, -and too much principle to steal.” - -“Aye,” said Alice Whitman, “and suppose he had been driven by misery to -take his own life. But now he is in a fair way to make a good and useful -member of society. As far as I am concerned, he shall have as kind usage -as any child of mine, for I believe he was sent to us.” - -“The prayers of good persons are always heard, but are not always -answered at once; and I have no doubt it was the prayer of that -Christian mother that stood in the way to stay his hand when he thought -to commit murder upon himself.” - -“You need not be afraid, Jonathan Whitman, to do for and trust that lad. -His father was a hard working Christian man, and his mother a hard -working Christian woman. There’s no vile blood in his veins, he was born -where the birds sang, and the grass grew around the door-step, if he did -find shelter in a workhouse. You’ll honor yourself and bring a blessing -upon your own hearthstone by caring for him.” - -“Amen,” exclaimed the grandparent, laying his great wrinkled hand in -benediction upon the head of his son’s wife. - -In making such minute inquiries of Albert in respect to the conversation -between himself and James, Mr. Whitman was influenced by a stronger -motive than mere curiosity. He knew, for he was a keen observer, that -James would unbosom himself to this innocent, enthusiastic and artless -boy in a manner that he would not to any other; and he wanted to get at -his inward life that he might thoroughly know, and thus understandingly, -guide and benefit him. - -Reflecting upon what he had heard, he drew from it this inference, and -said within himself, “There’s life in him yet.” - - - - - CHAPTER VII. - NOBLE CONDUCT OF BERTIE. - - -The next day proved rainy, but Mrs. Whitman perceived -that—notwithstanding the lack of enthusiasm manifested by her husband -the evening before,—though there was much work under cover that was -quite necessary to be done, he did not set James about it; but told -Bertie that he and James might take the day to study, after doing the -chores, and, taking Peter, went to the barn to thresh beans. - -“Father, can I teach James to write, too?” - -“You have no writing-book.” - -“I have one I didn’t quite finish last winter, and so has Maria.” - -“There’s not a quill in the house, and but one pen that has been mended -till there’s not much of it left, and I can’t spare that.” - -“We can pull some out of the old gander.” - -“They will be too soft.” - -“Mother says she can bake ‘em in the oven.” - -“Well, fix it to suit yourselves.” - -One obstacle surmounted, another arose. - -“Mother, I can’t find my plummet, and there’s not a mite of lead in the -house; what shall I do to rule the writing-book?” - -“Ask grandfather to give you a bullet; he’s never without bullets.” - -When grandfather was appealed to, he said, “I have but one, Bertie; and -that’s in my rifle. I loaded her for an owl that’s been round trying to -kill a goose, but I will lend it to you to rule your book.” - -He took down the rifle into which Bertie had seen him drive the bullet, -wrapped in a greased patch. “Grandpa, you never can get it out.” - -“Go up stairs and get a bag of wool that is right at the head of the -stairs.” - -When Bertie brought the wool, grandfather made a circle on the bag with -a smut coal, and a cross in the middle of it. - -“Now, Bertie, take that bag out of doors and set it up where I tell you. -I’m going to put a bullet into the middle of that cross.” - -After placing the bag at the distance pointed out, he said, “Where shall -I stand, grandpa?” - -“Wherever you like, ‘cept betwixt me and that cross.” - -“Why, grandfather, what are you thinking of? Come right into the house, -Bertie,” cried Mrs. Whitman, “your grandfather’s going to shoot.” - -“What if I am,” replied the old man testily, “I’m not going to shoot all -over the country. His father would hold the bag in his hand, as he has -done smaller things, a hundred times.” - -“I know it, grandpa; but you must remember that you are an old man now, -and of course can’t see as well as you could once, and your hand cannot -be so steady.” - -“I can see well enough to thread your needle when you can’t, and well -enough to hit a squirrel’s eye within thirty yards.” - -The old gentleman fired, the bag fell over and Bertie cried,— - -“There’s a hole right in the middle of the cross, as you said, grandpa.” - -“Indeed! I wonder at that. Wonder the bullet hadn’t gone up into the -air, or into the ground, or killed your father or Peter in the barn, or -into the pasture and killed one of the horses,” replied he, entirely -unable to digest the suspicion that his powers were waning, implied in -the caution of Mrs. Whitman to Bertie. - -The bullet was found in the wool, having penetrated a few inches. After -hammering the bullet into the shape of a plummet on the andiron, he gave -it to Bertie, saying,— - -“When you are done with it give it back to me, and I will run it into a -bullet again, for I want to kill that owl. It’s all I’m fit for now; to -kill vermin, some people think. I expect I’m in the way.” - -Mrs. Whitman never noticed any little testiness that occasionally -clouded the spirit of the genial sunny-tempered old gentleman, who, -though he would sometimes say that he was growing old, could seldom -without disturbance brook the remark or even suspicion, from another. - -He had been celebrated for strength and activity, and with the exception -of a stiffness in his legs, the result of toils and exposures in early -life, was still strong. It was surprising to see what a pile of wood he -would cut in an hour. He used no glasses, had every tooth he ever -possessed, his mind was clear, his judgment good, his health firm, and -his disposition such as made every one happy around him. Any labor that -admitted of standing still or moving slowly he could still perform; -could reap, hoe, chop wood, took entire charge of the garden, and could -work at a bench with tools, and nothing seemed to disturb the serenity -of his mind, save the suspicion that he was superannuated. No one could -equal him in putting an edge on a scythe, and he ground all the scythes -in haying time, the grindstone being placed under the old chestnut, and -fitted with a seat for his convenience. - -Alice Whitman soon restored the old gentleman’s good humor by showing -him the pattern of a new spread for his bed that she was then drawing in -the loom to weave; she then wheeled his great chair to the fire, flung -on some cobs to make a cheerful blaze, and grandfather, restored to his -composure, began to chat and tell of the birch-bark writing-books they -had in his school days. - -Thus did Bradford Whitman and his wife unite in smoothing the declivity -of age to one who had fought and won life’s battle; made many blades of -grass to grow where there were none before; reared a large family in -habits of industry and virtue; had fought with the savage in defence of -his own hearthstone; bore the scars of wounds received in the service of -his country, and having made his peace with God, resembled an old ship -just returned from a long and tempestuous voyage—her sails thread-bare, -her rigging chafed and stranded, her bulwarks streaked with -iron-rust—riding quietly at anchor in the outer harbor, waiting for the -tug to tow her to the pierhead. - -The example of the parents infected the children, and they vied with one -another in attention to their grandfather and in obedience and affection -to their parents. Thus were Jonathan Whitman and his wife reaping as -they had sown, and daily receiving the blessing promised to filial -obedience. - -Provided at last with quill and writing-book and plummet, the boys spent -the entire day in alternate exercises of teaching and learning the -letters of the alphabet, and to make straight marks. - -When the boys had gone to bed, Mr. Whitman and his wife were looking at -the writing and the latter said,— - -“The last of James’ straight marks are a good deal better than the copy -Bertie set for him.” - -The old gentleman, after looking at it, said, “That boy will make a good -penman. You can see that he improves, as he goes on; his marks are -square and clean cut at top and bottom. I think, for a boy that never -had a pen in his hand before, he has done remarkably well.” - -“Husband, what are you going to set James about to-morrow?” - -“Driving horses to plough. Why?” - -“We want some wood cut; and I don’t think your father ought to cut so -much as he does. The weather is getting cooler, and we burn a good deal -more, but I am afraid it will hurt his feelings if anybody else cuts -wood for the fire, as he considers that his work.” - -“I can arrange that. I’ll tell him in the morning that I want James to -learn to handle an axe; that he undertook at Hanscom’s tavern to cut -some wood and stuck the whole bitt of the axe in his leg the second -clip, and ask him if he won’t grind an axe for him and take him to the -wood-pile with him, and teach him, and see that he does not cut -himself.” - -The old gentleman was well pleased with the idea of teaching James an -art in which he was so competent to instruct, not in the least -suspecting that it was thought he could not supply the fire without -doing more than he was able. - -No sooner was breakfast despatched than, having ground an axe, he -proceeded with James to the wood-pile. - -The old gentleman set his chopping-block on end near a pile of oak and -maple limbs cut eight feet in length, and said to his pupil,— - -“Now, Jeames (he held on to the old pronunciation) I’ll hold these -sticks on the block and I want you to strike just there,” pointing with -his finger, “where they bear on the log, because if you don’t, you’ll -jar my hands.” - -Not, however, reposing much confidence in his assistant, he had taken -the precaution to put on a very thick patched mitten to deaden the jar. - -James began to strike, the blows were forcible but most of them -misspent. Whenever he struck fair on a stick he cut it off as though it -had been a rush. But many times he struck over, and as many more fell -short, so that only the corner of the axe hit the stick, and sometimes -missed it altogether and drove the axe into the block with such force -that it was hard work to pull it out. - -It was by no means the old chopper’s purpose to find fault, he praised -the vigor with which James struck and protected his own fingers from the -jar of the random blows as well as he could. In the course of an hour -James improved very sensibly; perceiving this, Mr. Whitman began to -point out some of his errors and said: “You must look at the place where -you mean to hit and not at your axe, and you must let your left hand -slip up and down on the axe-handle and guide your axe a good deal with -your right hand, whereas you keep a fast grip with both hands on the -axe-handle, just as a woman does when she undertakes to cut wood.” - -James blushed and replied,— - -“If I should do that way I don’t think I could strike as fair as I do -now.” - -“You won’t at first, but after a while you will. You may cut off small -limbs on a block in your fashion, but you could not work to any purpose -in cutting large wood on the ground. I’ll cut a while and you may hold -on, and you’ll see how I cut.” - -The blows of the senior were delivered with the precision of a machine. - -James took the axe again, and though, at first, he seemed to retrograde, -it was not long before he became accustomed to the new method. The old -gentleman now began to put on the block sticks that were so large that -it required two or three blows to sever them when the blows were -delivered with precision, but it required seven or eight of James’. For -instance, if it was a stick that might be cut at two blows, he would -deliver one and cut it half off, and then, instead of striking in the -same scarf and severing it he would strike a little on one side or the -other and the blow went for nothing. He now saw that it was necessary to -strike fair, for by striking once in a place he could never cut a stick -of any size off, and feeling that when he did strike into the same place -it was more by chance than skill, began to be somewhat discouraged. - -The senior noticed this and said,— - -“Let me cut a spell, you are tired and will strike better after resting -a while.” - -James could not but admire the precision and ease with which he lopped -the sticks, so true were the blows that when he took and looked at the -ends they seemed to have been cut at one blow, whereas the ends of his -sticks looked like a pair of stairs and the bark was in shreds. - -When at the expiration of an hour the old gentleman gave him the axe, -and he saw what a pile of wood the former had cut, James could not help -saying,— - -“I don’t believe I shall ever strike true.” - -“Indeed you will; it’s all in practice. You mustn’t be discouraged if -you should find that little Bertie can strike truer than you can now, -for the boys here begin to chop as soon as they can lift an axe, whereas -it is a new thing to you.” - -The next morning his instructor set James to cutting large logs, showed -him how to cut his scarfs and told him to strike slow, and as fair as -possible, for every miss clip was so much time and strength laid out for -nothing, and thinking it would only discourage James if he should go to -cutting logs with him, employed himself in splitting. - -It was now an entirely different thing with James. He was stiff and -sore, but after he got warmed up, he found that he could strike a great -deal better. The old gentleman praised his work and told him he had a -mechanical eye and he knew it by his writing, and with practice he would -handle any kind of a tool. - -The hands of James were now blistered, and Mr. Whitman, who had a large -breadth of ground to plough for spring wheat, made out two teams,—Bertie -driving John and Charlie for Peter, and James driving Frank and Dick for -him. - -James proved an excellent driver, and Mr. Whitman was so much gratified, -that at night he said to his wife,— - -“I believe, after all, that boy is going to make most excellent help, he -handles horses as well as anybody, young or old, that I ever had on the -place.” - -“He has a great memory, and if he learns other things as fast as he -learns to read and write, you’ll never regret that you took him.” - -“James,” said Mr. Whitman, as they were at work together the next day, -“did you ever hold plough?” - -“I never was anything but a ploughboy. In England the ploughman does -nothing but plough, and in many places drives and holds both, but I have -held plough a few hours, and sometimes half a day, when the ploughman -was sick or away.” - -“Well, take hold of the handles.” - -Mr. Whitman took the reins, and James held so well, that his master kept -him at it till noon. Peter and Bertie were ploughing in the same field, -and they could not help going into the house for a drink, and telling -their grandfather that James was holding plough, and their father -driving the horses. - -While matters were thus pleasantly going on among the Whitmans, the most -contradictory stories were circulated in the neighborhood in respect to -James. - -Those who obtained their information from the landlord of the -public-house where Wilson put up, having James with him, averred that -Jonathan Whitman had got awfully cheated in a redemptioner; that he was -lame and underwitted; a great scrawny, loutish boy, and no life in him, -and had such a down look that many people reckoned he might be a thief, -most likely he was, for Wilson got him out of a parish workhouse. - -Others were of opinion that the next time Wilson came that way he should -be treated to a coat of tar and feathers for putting such a creature on -to so good a man as Mr. Jonathan Whitman; still others said there could -be no doubt of it, for Blaisdell, Mr. Wood’s redemptioner, who came over -in the same vessel, said he thought he was underwitted or crazy, for he -never heard him speak, nor saw him talk with any of the passengers. - -While this talk was going on in the bar-room, a shoemaker came in, who -said that Lunt the miller told him that the week before the redemptioner -was at his mill with Whitman’s youngest boy, and he never saw a man -handle a span of horses or bags of wheat better, and that he would pitch -a barrel of flour into a wagon as easily as a cat would lick her ear. - -James Stone the peddler then said that the last time he was there, the -redemptioner was sitting in the sun on the wood-pile, while Whitman and -Peter were threshing in the barn with all their might, and the -redemptioner had been there a week then. - -At that moment a drover, a joking, good-natured fellow, came into the -bar-room and said he was over in Whitman’s neighborhood that very -forenoon, and when he went by there about eleven o’clock, the -redemptioner was holding plough, and Whitman was driving, and the horses -were stepping mighty quick too. - -This occasioned a great laugh, and the subject was dropped. The verdict, -however, remained unfavorable to James, as Eustis the shoemaker was not -considered very reliable, and Sam Dorset the drover was so given to -joking, that though a truthful man, everyone supposed he then spoke in -jest. - -James now went again to the wood-pile with the old gentleman, and -chopped for four days in succession, the former cutting till he was -tired, and then going into the house or piling up the wood. - -The weather was fast growing cooler, and it was the custom of Mr. -Whitman to cut and haul a large quantity of wood to last over the wet -weather in the fall and till snow came. He also wished to haul wheat to -the mill himself, and wanted Peter to go with him, going two turns in a -day. He therefore asked his father if he felt able to go into the woods -with James and Bertie, and show James how to fell a tree, and see that -he didn’t fell one on himself or Bertie. - -The old gentleman said he could go as well as not, that he could ride -back and forth in the cart, chop as much as he liked, and then make up a -fire, and sit by it, and see to them, and he thought it would do him -good to be in the woods. - -The old gentleman selected a tree and cut it down, while James who had -never seen a tree cut down in his life, looked on; he then selected -another and told him to chop into it. James did so, though he found it a -little more difficult to strike fair into the side of a tree, than into -a log lying on the ground. When it was more than half off his instructor -told him where to cut on the other side. - -James walked round the tree and stood by the lower side of his scarf, -and was about to strike. - -“You mustn’t stand there; turn round and put your left shoulder to the -tree, and your left hand on the lower end of the axe-handle, now -strike.” - -“I can’t cut so, it don’t come right, I ain’t lefthanded.” - -“That indeed! but all good choppers, when they fell a tree, learn to -chop either hand forward; you must put your right hand forward.” - -“I couldn’t guide the axe with my right hand forward; I never could cut -a tree down in that way. I should only hack it off.” - -“Well, hack it then, you must creep afore you can walk, it comes just as -unhandy to everybody at first.” - -He then took James to a ravine, the sides of which were quite -perpendicular and the edges covered with large trees, and said,— - -“Now, suppose you wanted to cut one of those trees, you couldn’t stand -on the lower side to cut, but must either cut them off all on one side, -or chop right hand forward. Besides, there is often another tree in the -way and you would have to cut both, to cut one.” - - - - - CHAPTER VIII. - INFLUENCE OF HOPE. - - -As the old gentleman ended, James heard the crash of a falling tree, and -saw that Bertie had just dropped a much larger tree than the senior had -given to him, and had also cut it right hand forward; this determined -him, and he began to chop into the side of another tree while his -instructor, feeling that James would rather not have his eye upon him, -went to help Bertie. - -James took very good care to cut the tree almost off in his usual way, -in order that he might be compelled to chop as little as possible in the -new fashion (that is, new to him); he however found that little -sufficiently puzzling. Two only out of five blows that struck upon the -upper slanting side of his kerf took effect in the same place, but when -he came to strike in square across on the lower side, the first blow hit -the root of the tree, and the edge of the axe came within a hair’s -breadth of a stone; the next struck about half way between the root and -the spot aimed at, and the third alone reached the right place. James -sweat, grew red in the face, and showered blows at random, very few of -which effected anything, and when at length the tree came down the stump -looked as if it had been gnawed by rats. In cutting up the tree, James -recovered his equanimity, his nervous spasm passed off, and, resolved to -conquer, he cut the next only half way off in his usual manner, and when -he turned to the other side, succeeded so much better as to feel -somewhat encouraged, especially as he was assured by Bertie that it was -long before he learned to chop right hand forward, and that in his -opinion James was getting along remarkably fast, and would soon be able -to chop as easily with his right hand forward as with the left. - -They had brought their dinners with them, and besides a jug of hot -coffee wrapped in a blanket to keep it warm. Bertie had also brought a -gun, and while James was making a great fire against a ledge of rocks he -shot a wild turkey, a great gobbler, and they roasted it before the -fire, and also roasted potatoes in the ashes, and set the coffee jug in -the hot ashes till the contents fairly boiled. They now made a soft seat -for grandfather with bushes, on which they spread their jackets, and he -sat with his back against the ledge that was warmed from the heat of the -fire, while the sun shone bright upon his person, and then they fell to, -with appetites sharpened by labor and the breath of the woods, and had a -great feast, drinking their coffee out of birch-bark cups that the -grandfather made and put together with the spike of a thorn-bush for a -pin. - -This, which was but an ordinary affair to Bertie and his grandfather, -opened a new world to James. It was the first time in his experience -that pleasure was ever connected with labor. Hitherto labor with him -recalled no pleasant associations; it was hard, grinding toil, performed -to obtain bread, and under the eye of a task-master, and dinner was for -the most part a little bread and cheese, eaten under a hedge, or rick of -grain, with a mug of beer to wash down the bread, made largely of -peas,—with the dark background of the past and a hopeless future,—but -now every moment and every morsel was full of enjoyment. The good old -man, refreshed by rest and a hearty meal, breathing once more the air of -the woods where he loved to be, and exhilarated by old and pleasant -associations, was in a most jovial mood, that infected his companions; -and when Bertie, in response to some humorous remark of his grandfather, -broke out in a ringing laugh, James joined heartily in it. The surprise -of Bertie at such a development can only be imagined, not described. His -features expressed wonder, mingled with surprise, in so ludicrous a -manner as to provoke another peal of laughter from James, who from that -moment became a different boy. The fetters that had bound him to -despondency as with gyves of steel were loosened. A ray of sunlight -darted athwart the gloom, hope was born, and a dim consciousness of -something higher and nobler began to dawn upon him. He stretched himself -on the ground beside the fire, and lay looking up into the sky in a -perfect dream of happiness. Rousing himself at length, he asked the old -gentleman who planted all the trees on that land. - -“The Lord planted them; they’ve always been here; as fast as one dies or -is cut down another comes up. We don’t plant trees here, except fruit -trees; we cut ‘em down. When I came on to this farm it was all forest, -and no neighbor within nine miles.” - -“It must be some great duke or earl who owns this land. I shouldn’t -think he’d let you cut down so many trees. In England, if you cut a -little tree as big as a ramrod you’d be sent to jail, and I don’t know -but be hung.” - -“Dukes or earls! We don’t have any such vermin here; but my father came -from England, and we’ve heard him say that there a few great proprietors -own all the land, and the farmers are mostly tenants and pay rent. Thank -God, any man who has his health and is sober and industrious can own -land here.” - -“Does Bertie’s father own all this land?” - -“Yes, it was mine; I gave it to him.” - -“You can own a piece of land, James,” said Bertie; “I am saving my money -to buy a piece of land. I’ve got twenty dollars now, and a yoke of -steers that I am going to sell. I mean to have a farm of my own, and -raise lots of wheat, just as grandfather did, and then when I’m old I -can tell what I did, just as he does; and I hope there will be a war, so -that I can fight, and have it to tell of, and be made much of, just as -he is.” - -“Such as me have a farm!” and James smiled incredulously. - -“Sartain you can,” replied the senior; “if you are steady and -industrious and learn to work, when you have done here you can obtain -all the work you want at good wages. It takes but little money to buy -wild land. You can go where land is cheap and begin as I did.” - -This was an idea too large for James to grasp, and seemed, though -magnificent, altogether fantastic. He again smiled incredulously, and -repeated to himself in a low tone, “Such as me have a farm!” - -“Why do you say such as me?” replied the senior, who overheard the -remark. “If you want to be a man, and to be well thought of and -respected, and to have friends, all in the world you have to do in this -country is to learn to work and read and write and be honest; and nobody -is going to ask or care who your father was, all they will want to be -satisfied about is as to what you are. There’s nothing can hinder you, -nothing can keep you down. - -“But there’s another thing, and it is of more consequence than all the -rest. If you want to feel right and prosper, fear the Lord who giveth -food to man and beast. - -“When I came into these woods, all I had left after paying for my land -was the clothes on my back, my rifle, a few charges of powder and shot, -a narrow axe and a week’s provisions; all my wife had was her -spinning-wheel, cards, a few pounds of wool, two pewter plates, one -bottle and the clothes on her back and some blankets. I carried a pack -on my back, and my axe, and hauled the other stuff on a sledge—for it -was the last of March and there was plenty of snow in the woods—she -carried my rifle and a bundle.” - -“But, Mr. Whitman,” said James, “if it was all woods and nobody lived -near, where were you and your wife going to stop?” - -“My intention was to cut out a place to build a log-house, and I had -expected to reach the spot at noon, so as to be able to make a bush camp -by night to shelter us while building; but the travelling was bad, the -sun was down before reaching the spot and we came into the woods by -twilight. - -“I built a fire after scraping away the snow with a piece of bark, and -as we sat by it and listened to the sound of the wind among the trees, -you don’t know how solemn it seemed.” - -“I should have thought you would have felt afraid,” said Bertie. - -“I had been well instructed, and both myself and wife had professed to -fear God—and did fear him—but we did not fear much else, though we had -but a week’s food, and were nine miles from any human being. We knelt -down together and I told my Maker there and then, that my wife and I -were a couple of his poor children; that she was an orphan and had been -put out since she was twelve years of age and had never had any home of -her own. That we had nothing but our hands, and health, and strength, -and were about to begin for ourselves in His woods; and wanted to begin -with His blessing. That we would try to do right, and if we found any -poorer or worse off than ourselves, would help them and be content with -and thankful for whatever He gave us, be it little or much. - -“I then made a bed of brush for my wife, covered her with blankets, -threw some light brush on them, and sat all night by the fire with my -rifle in hand.” - -“I guess grandmother didn’t sleep much?” said Bertie. - -“She slept all night like one of God’s lambs, as she was, though she had -the courage of a lion. The next day I made a shelter of brush that kept -out rain and snow, and by Saturday morning I had built a house of -small-sized logs (such as your grandmother and I could roll up) with a -bark roof, a stone fireplace and chimney of sticks and clay. I had also -shot a buck, we brought a peck of Indian meal with us, your grandmother -baked her first loaf of bread on the hearth, and we kept the Sabbath all -alone in the woods with glad hearts. It is more than fifty years since I -thus sought God’s blessing, and during all that time I have never -lacked. I have raised up a large family of children; they are all -well-to-do in the world. I am still able to be of some use, and am ready -whenever the Master calls. - -“Jeames, my laddie, fear God, you may be tempted to think trying to do -right has in the past brought you nothing but unhappiness, that you have -only been scorned and flouted because you would not take His name in -vain. But those bitter days will never come back. His providence has -brought you to us, and should you live as long as I have, you will never -regret having put your trust in Him!” - -No force of learning, eloquence, or wit, could have produced so genial -and abiding an impression upon James, as the words we have recorded. The -character and person of the speaker himself—the very situation, beside a -forest fire—all tended to heighten both the moral and physical effect of -the sentiments uttered. - -The elder Whitman possessed indeed a most commanding presence. His great -bones and sinews, now that the body was attenuated by age, stood out in -such bold relief as to challenge attention; showing the vast strength he -once possessed, and that still lingered in those massive limbs, while -the burden of years had neither bowed his frame, nor had age dimmed the -fire of his eye. - -In addition to all this, the accounts James had heard from Bertie of his -encounters with the red men, and with bears, and wolves, together with -the scars of wounds that he had upon his person, supplemented by the -respect and affection with which he was treated by the whole household, -caused James to look upon and listen to him with awe and wonder. - -He could understand the plain and terse utterances of the old woodsman, -and they gave a new and strong impulse to ideas and trains of thought -that were now germinating within him. - -The next morning, as Mr. Whitman wanted the four horses to haul wheat, -he told Bertie they must take the oxen and cart with them, and bring -home a load of wood both at noon and night. He also told his father that -he had better not go, that two days’ work in succession and the travel -back and forth were too much for him. The old gentleman, however, said -it was not, he could ride in the cart; and that as they were now to cut -larger trees, it was not safe to leave the boys to fell them alone. - -James had never seen an ox in the yoke, and he was much surprised to see -with what docility the near ox came across the yard to come under the -yoke, when Bertie held up the end of it and said,— - -“Bright, come under.” - -He also observed how readily they obeyed the motion of the goad, and -handled the cart just as they were directed. - -“I never thought a bullock knew anything, but they seem to know as much -as horses,” said James. - -“Yes, just as much.” - -Having ground their axes—with grandfather in the cart—they started, and -when they came to the wood the oxen were unyoked to go where they -pleased. - -“Won’t they run away?” said James. - -“No, they saw the axes in the cart and know what we are going to do; you -see they don’t offer to start. The very first tree we fell, if it is -hard wood or hemlock, they’ll come to browse the limbs. They love to -browse dearly, and all day they won’t go farther than a spring there is -near, to drink.” - -They now began to cut the trees, and the moment the cattle heard the -sound of the axes they came running to the spot. - -“What did I tell you?” said Bertie. “They know what the sound of an axe -means, just as I know when I come home from school and see mother look -into the oven, or reach her hand up on the top shelf, she’s got -something good laid away for me.” - -A road was first cleared, and then the trees were cut into lengths of -sixteen feet, and rolled up in piles on the sides of the road. - -“What makes your grandfather have them cut so long, they can never be -put into a cart?” said James. - -“This wood is for next winter, and won’t be hauled till snow comes, and -then it will be hauled on two sleds put one behind the other.” - -Mrs. Whitman insisted that grandfather should take a nap after dinner, -and as Bertie had to wait to haul him out, James went to the wood-lot -alone. He had felled a large hemlock and was cutting off the first log, -when he observed a man on horseback attentively watching him. In a few -moments the man rode up and inquired where Mr. Whitman was. James -replied that he had gone to the mill with a load of wheat. He then -inquired if the oxen were there, James told him they would be along in a -few minutes, and as they were talking Bertie and the old gentleman came. -This person was the drover who had seen James holding plough, and who -occasioned so much merriment by saying so at the tavern. He felt of the -cattle, took a chain from his pocket, measured them, and then told the -old gentleman to inform his son to be at home the next Monday, for he -was coming that way then, and wanted to trade with him for the oxen and -some lambs. - -When, on the next Saturday night, the usual company of idlers and hard -drinkers assembled in the bar-room of the tavern, the drover added still -more to the muddle of conflicting opinions in regard to James by telling -the crowd that he “went through the woods to Malcom’s, after lambs, and, -as he returned through Whitman’s woods, came across the redemptioner -chopping alone. That he had just cut a big hemlock and was junking it up -and handled an axe right smart. That he made some talk with him and -called him a real good-looking, rugged, civil-spoken fellow,” and went -on to say that he “wouldn’t give him for two, yes, three, of that -Blaisdell, Mr. Woods had got. The boy certainly was not lame, for he -stood on the tree to chop, and when he got down to speak to him didn’t -limp a particle, and he believed all the stories told about him were a -pack of lies, got up to hurt a civil young man because he was a -foreigner.” - -This brought out the tavern-keeper, and the dispute came near ending in -a downright brawl, and was only prevented by the drover proposing to -“treat all hands and drop it.” - -The elder Whitman was so much gratified with the progress made by James -that he resolved to make him aware of it. The next day proved stormy, -and after breakfast he brought out an axe that had been ground, and -said,— - -“James, that axe of yours is not fit to chop with. It is not the best of -steel, nor is it made right to throw a chip, and the handle is too big -and stiff; it’s just the handle to split, not to chop with. But there’s -an axe Mr. Paul Rogers made for me that’s made just right to work easy -in the wood, and he is the best man to temper an edge-tool I ever knew. -My cutting days are about over and I’ll give it to you, and make a -proper chopping handle to it, and then we’ll grind it and you’ll have a -good axe. - -“I’ve not the least doubt you’ll make a first rate chopper, and be real -‘sleighty’ with an axe. This is a heavier tool than I care to use now, -but you’ve got the strength, and practice will give you the sleight.” - -James, stimulated by finding that he had finally mastered the -difficulty, and delighted with the kindly interest manifested by the old -gentleman, gave his whole soul to work; and by the time the winter’s -wood was cut could chop faster than either of the boys, and could drive -the oxen well enough for most purposes. - -A variety of circumstances conspired not only thereby to develop the -ability of James, but also to prove that he was by no means untouched by -the kindness with which he was treated. - -Mr. Whitman, having sold his large oxen to the drover, to be delivered -in a week, desired, before parting with them, to break up a piece of -rough land with them and the steers, and also to plough a piece of old -ground that had been planted with corn that year, and that two horses -could plough. All this work must be done speedily, as the ground was -likely to shut up. - -In the evening the family were seated around the fire, Bertie -superintending James who was writing, when Mr. Whitman said,— - -“Father, I don’t see but I must hire a hand. I want to plough a piece of -corn-ground for wheat, and I want very much to break up that rough piece -before I give up the old oxen. By hiring some one to drive for James to -plough for wheat I could accomplish it. After the land was struck out, -Bertie could drive the oxen and Peter tend the plough for me.” - -“Peter is not strong enough to tend the plough in that ground. There -will be roots to cut, stumps to drag out of the way, great turfs as big -as a blanket to turn over; it needs a strong man such as this poor old -worn-out creature was when you was a boy. But I can drive the oxen, and -then you can have both boys to tend plough.” - -“I never will allow that; you cannot travel over that rough ground. I -can stop the team once in a while, and help Peter.” - -James, who had listened to this conversation, gave Bertie a hint to go -into the porch, and when they were alone, said,— - -“Bertie, I can take Frank and Dick, and plough that ground alone.” - -“You can’t do that, James; nobody here ever ploughs alone with horses. -They do sometimes with old steady oxen.” - -“Yes, I can. In England most of the ploughmen drive themselves. The -corn-butts have been all taken off, and the plough won’t clog much.” - -James resumed his writing, and Bertie soon made the matter known to his -father, who said,— - -“James, can you plough that corn-ground alone?” - -“Yes, sir; with old Frank and Dick. I would not try it with the other -horses.” - -The next morning the two teams started at the same time. Bertie wanted -to go and see James begin, but his father told him to keep away, as he -had no doubt James would prefer to be alone. - -Bertie was on tenter-hooks all the forenoon to know how his _protégé_ -got along, and kept chattering incessantly about it. - -“Father, I saw him cut four alder sprouts as much as six feet long, with -a little bunch of leaves left on the end, and then he stuck ‘em under -the hame-straps on Frank’s collar.” - -“That was to mark his land out. The sprouts are so limber that the -horses will walk right over them without turning aside, and the tuft of -leaves on top will enable him to see them between the horses’ heads.” - -At eleven o’clock they stopped to rest the oxen, and Bertie improved the -opportunity to climb a tree that he might be able to see James over the -rising ground between them. - -“Can you see him?” said Peter. - -“I can’t see him, but he’s ploughing all right. Everything is going -along just right.” - -“How do you know that, my son, if you can’t see him?” - -“Because, father, I can see the heads and part of the necks of the -horses, and they are going round and round as regular as can be. They -are stepping lively, too, and every now and then old Frank keeps -flirting up his head just as he does when he feels about right and -everything suits him. You know how he does?” - -“No, I don’t know, for I don’t take so much notice of Frank’s ways as -you do.” - -When they left work at noon, and while his father and Peter were tying -up the oxen, Bertie scampered off to the field where James had been at -work and came back in most exuberant spirits. After dinner he could not -be satisfied unless his father went out to see the ploughed ground, and -to his great delight his grandfather accompanied them. - -The ground was a hazel loam, free of stones, and James had turned a back -furrow through the middle as straight as an arrow. The furrows were of -equal width; there were no balks, and it looked like garden mould. Mr. -Whitman was very much gratified, as Bertie knew by his looks, though he -merely observed,— - -“That is good work.” - -“It is as good a piece of work as I ever saw done,” said the -grandfather. - -When night came Bertie importuned James to tell him how he drove the -horses so straight the first time going round, when they had no furrow -to guide them and held the plough at the same time. - -James, in ridicule of Bertie, who was so fond of imputing human -intelligence to Frank, and with a sly humor, of which he had never -manifested a trace before, said,— - -“I told old Frank I had never tried to plough alone before, and wanted -to plough a straight furrow, and I asked him if he wouldn’t go just as -straight for the marks as he could, and so he did.” - -“Oh, now you’re fooling; come tell me.” - -“I stuck up my marks, and then I drove the horses twice back and forth -over the ground, before I put the plough to ‘em. Don’t you know that -when a horse goes over ground the second time he always wants to step in -the same tracks?” - -“No.” - -“Well, he does, and if another horse has been along, to step in his -tracks. Did you never notice in the lanes and wood roads, how true the -lines of grass are each side of the horse?” - -“Yes.” - -“They wouldn’t be, if horses didn’t want to go in the same track. The -horses could see their tracks in the soft ground, and when I came to put -the plough to ‘em, knew what I wanted, and that helped me to guide ‘em. -Horses go in the main road because in the first place folks make ‘em go -there, and when the ruts get worn, the carriage keeps them there, and it -is easier than to cross the ruts. But in the pastures the horses and -cattle always have their beaten paths, and nobody makes ‘em go in them, -yet they always go in them,—and all go in them,—they wouldn’t be horses -if they didn’t.” - -“What did you do with the reins?” - -“Flung ‘em over my neck.” - - - - - CHAPTER IX. - THE REDEMPTIONER AT MEETING. - - -While James was thus giving new proofs of capacity for usefulness, Mrs. -Whitman had woven a web of cloth, sent it to the mill where it was -colored and pressed, and had made James a suit of clothes for meeting, -and a thick winter overcoat, and Mr. Whitman had bought him a hat. - -Sunday morning came, Mrs. Whitman gave the clothes to James and told him -to go up stairs and put them on, that she might see how they fitted. -While the children, enjoying his dazed looks, were bursting with -repressed glee, Bertie capered around the room at such a rate that Peter -said he acted like a fool. - -“Isn’t he stuck up?” said Peter. - -“I mean to peek and see how he acts when he gets by himself,” said -Bertie with his foot on the lower stair. - -“Don’t do that, Bertie; mother, don’t let him,” said Peter. - -His mother called him back, and he reluctantly sat down to await the -conclusion. - -At last they heard James, with a slow, hesitating step, descending the -stairs. He paused long in the entry, and at length opening the door as -cautiously as would a thief, crossed the room, and with a scared, -troubled look, went and stood by the window with his back to all the -inmates of the room, looking directly into the main road. - -Mrs. Whitman found it somewhat difficult to compose her features as she -said,— - -“Come here, James, and let me see how they set; they may need some -little alteration.” - -When he turned, Mr. Whitman was looking straight at the crane, Peter was -buried in the catechism which he held up to his face, while Bertie and -Maria ran out to the barn and there vented their long suppressed -feelings in peals of laughter, till they had obtained sufficient command -of themselves to return to the house. - -What unalloyed satisfaction, resulting from contributing to the -happiness of others, predominated in the breasts of that household, as -Mrs. Whitman turned James round and round, and invited the criticism of -her husband as to the set of the garments. The grave features of -Jonathan betokened a strong disposition to smile as he said,— - -“I think they set well, and don’t see how you can alter them for the -better.” - -“They are a trifle long, husband, and a little large, but I can turn up -a seam and it will do to let out again, for he’s growing.” - -“Not one mite too large, wife, he’s at least forty pounds heavier than -he was when he came here.” - -The children now came around him with the charitable desire of relieving -his embarrassment, and began to talk to him. - -“What nice pockets!” said Bertie, thrusting his hands alternately into -those of the waistcoat, and into the breast-pockets of the coat. Maria -took hold of his hand and stood looking at the buttons of the coat, and -Peter, passing his hands over the shoulders of James, admired the fit of -the coat. - -Mrs. Whitman now brought out the overcoat and put it on him, the -children assisting, and thrusting his arms through the sleeves. - -James knew that Mrs. Whitman was making him a suit of clothes, because -she had taken his measure. But he did not know that she was making him -an overcoat, and that at the same time she measured him for the coat and -pants and waistcoat, had also measured him for that garment; neither did -she intend he should. The surprise therefore was as great as she could -have wished. - -During all this time James stood like a statue, staring into vacancy, -while the children made their comments and handled his limp form as they -pleased. Mrs. Whitman, in the meantime, buttoned up the garment, pulled -it down behind and before, manipulated it in various ways, finally -pronouncing it as good a fit as could be made, concluding with the -declaration that James had a good form to fit clothes to. - -“Ain’t they handsome? Don’t you like ‘em?” said Bertie, putting his arms -around the passive recipient of all these favors. - -Instead of replying, this apparently insensible being burst into tears. -Peter and Maria drew back amazed. Bertie’s eyes moistened with -sympathetic feeling, and the situation was becoming sufficiently -embarrassing to all, when Mr. Whitman said,— - -“James, put Frank and Dick into the wagon; it’s getting towards meeting -time, but go upstairs first, and take off your clothes.” - -Thankful for the interruption, James quickly left the room. - -“What made him cry, father?” said Peter. “Didn’t he like the clothes?” - -“Yes, tickled to death with them.” - -“Then what made him cry?” - -“He cried for joy.” - -“I didn’t know anybody ever cried because they were glad.” - -“Some folks do; your mother burst out a crying when she stood up to be -married to me, and there never was a gladder woman.” - -“I guess somebody who didn’t cry was just as glad,” retorted Mrs. -Whitman. - -“That’s a fact, Alice; and has been glad ever since. Boys, run out and -help James water, clean, and harness the horses, because he has got to -shift his clothes again. Tell him he is going to meeting with us, and -that I want him to drive.” - -The great bulk of the people, in that day, rode on horseback, the women -on pillions behind their husbands. They had the heavy Conestoga wagons, -for six, four, or two horses, to haul wheat to market, and for farm -work, but Whitman and a few of his neighbors had covered riding wagons. - -As they neared the meeting-house Mr. Whitman told James to rein up, and -pointed out to him the horse block. This was a large stick of timber -placed near the main entrance of the church, one end of which rested -upon the ground, while the other was raised so as to be on a level with -the stirrup of the tallest horse. This arrangement accommodated -everybody; the elderly people rode to the upper end, where they could -dismount on a level, and where was a little platform, and a pair of -steps with a railing, by which they could descend from the timber, while -the others dismounted lower down. Many of the young gallants, however, -disdained to make use of the horse-block at all. - -Great was the wonderment when James drove up to the block in such a -manner that the old grandfather could step out on the platform; and then -drove to the hitching-place under a great locust tree, in the branches -of which was hung the sweep of a well that furnished the people and -animals with water, as there was no house in the vicinity, and most of -the congregation came long distances to meeting. - -From one to another the whispered inquiries and comments went around. - -“Who is that driving the Whitmans?” said Joe Dinsmore to Daniel -Brackett. - -“That’s Whitman’s redemptioner.” - -“Pshaw! what are you talking about, most likely it’s some relation of -theirs from Lancaster. A mighty good-looking fellow he is, too; and has -seen a horse afore to-day.” - -“I tell you it’s his redemptioner.” - -“And I tell you I know better. Why, man alive, do you think a -redemptioner who’s a half fool, as everybody knows his redemptioner is, -and was took out of a workhouse, would look, and act, and handle horses -as that chap does?” - -“Well, there’s Sam Dorset, the drover, knows him, and has spoken to him; -I’ll leave it to him.” - -Beckoning to Dorset, who was sitting on the horse-block, to come near; -Brackett asked, — - -“Who is that young fellow who drove Whitman’s folks up to the block just -now?” - -“Jim Renfew, his redemptioner.” - -“You are such a joker that it’s hard to tell how to take you. Be you -joking, or not? The story round our way is, and came pretty straight -too, for it came from the tavern-keeper with whom Wilson always puts up, -that Wilson took him out of a workhouse and that he’s underwitted.” - -“I don’t know what he was took out of, but I know this much, that I was -by Whitman’s, saw him holding plough and Whitman driving. I was there -again, and came across him chopping in the woods and making the chips -fly right smart, and last week I went there after lambs, and saw him -ploughing by himself with the horses; and I venture to say there’s not a -man of all who run him down can draw so straight a furrow as that fellow -drew. I reckon Whitman has just got a treasure in that redemptioner, and -I, for one, am glad of it. Jonathan Whitman is a man who is willing that -others should live as well as himself, and uses everybody and everything -well, from the cattle in his pastures to the hired hands in his field. -And his wife is just like him, and so are the whole breed of ‘em; strong -enough to tear anybody to pieces and not half try, and wouldn’t hurt a -fly except they are provoked out of all reason, _then_ stand from -under.” - -When the morning service was ended, Mrs. Whitman produced a basket of -eatables of which they all partook, after which Mr. Whitman went into -the porch. - -It was not long before John and Will Edibean came into the pew and were -introduced to James. John was about the age, and a great friend, of -Peter, and Will of Bertie. - -“Come,” said Bert, “let’s go sit in the carriage and talk till meeting -begins.” - -The boys turned the front seat round, so that they faced each other, and -conversed, James putting in a word at times when drawn out by some -question from Peter, and while they were thus engaged Sam Dorset -sauntered along and shook hands with James. - -In the porch Mr. Whitman encountered his neighbor Wood, who after -greeting said,— - -“Jonathan, you was dead set against having a redemptioner, allers said -all you could agin the whole thing; now you’ve got one, how do you like -him?” - -“I despise the whole thing as much as ever, but I like the redemptioner -well enough thus far; the old saying is ‘you must summer and winter a -man to find him out,’ and I have not done either yet.” - -“If you haven’t changed your mind and still despise the whole thing, -what made you take this redemptioner?” - -“I got kind of inveigled into it. Had he been grown man, such as most -any one would have been glad to have, I would have had nothing to do -with it, but when I came to look at the poor lad, lame, with scarcely a -rag to his back, without friends or money, and in a strange land, when I -found that he came out of a workhouse, and naturally thought he could do -no farm work, and noticed how kind of pitiful he looked, you don’t know -how it made me feel. I knew in reason that boy would be like to suffer, -because well-to-do people would not have him, and he would be almost -certain to fall into the hands of those who would abuse him.” - -“I see it worked on your feelings.” - -“More than that, it worked upon my conscience. I knew I was able to -protect that boy; something seemed to say to me, ‘Jonathan Whitman, you -won’t sell an old horse that has served you well, lest he should fall -into bad hands; are you going to turn your back upon a friendless boy, -made in the image of God who has blessed you in your basket and your -store?’ Still I could hardly bring myself to take a boy who had been -born, as it were, brought up, at least, in a workhouse, and thought to -give him a ten-dollar bill and get off in that way.” - -“You didn’t want to take him into the family with your own children?” - -“You’ve hit the nail on the head. As I said at first, I got inveigled -into it and took him; but if it was to be done over again I would do it. -Now that you have wormed all this out of me, I am going to measure you -in your own bushel. For these six years past you’ve been aching to take -a redemptioner, and importuning me to take one, now that you’ve got one, -how do you like him?” - -“Not over and above, and I don’t mean to do much in the way of clothing -him, or keeping him, till I find him out. When I come to see how much -less he does than a man I could hire; and feel that I must keep and -board him all winter when he won’t earn his board; must run the chance -of his being taken sick or getting hurt, I find that it is not, after -all, such cheap labor as I at first imagined,—let alone the risk of his -running away after he finds out what wages he can get elsewhere. I am -going to find out what’s in him before I throw away any more money on -him. By the way, don’t you think you’re beginning rather strong with -your redemptioner? You take a boy right out of the workhouse, who, by -all accounts, has been hardly used and kept down, bring him into your -family, dress him up and treat him just like one of your own children; -don’t you think he’ll be like to get above himself and you too, and give -you trouble?” - -“I don’t calculate to make him my heir, or indulge him to his injury; -but I mean that he shall have the privilege of going to meeting and to -school as my children do.” - -“To _school_! What, send a redemptioner to _school_?” - -“Yes, I am after the same thing that you are; you are trying to find out -what is in your redemptioner, and I in mine.” - -“That’s a queer way to find out.” - -“It is somewhat different from yours, but suppose you had a colt and -wanted to bring out his real disposition, which would be the surest way, -to keep him short, work him hard, give him a cold stable, never bed or -curry him, or to give him plenty of provender, a warm blanket, a good -bed, and dress him down every day?” - -“I suppose if there was any spirit or any ugliness in him, the good -keeping would bring it out.” - -“I think so, and if my man is of that nature that he can’t bear nor -respond to good treatment I don’t want him.” - -“But you are taking a very costly way to get information; and if, after -all your expense of sending him to school, clothing, and buying books -for him, he gives you the slip, you have failed of your object, which -was to get cheap labor, and lost much money. While I, if my man proves -worthless, have only lost a portion of the passage money.” - -“I shall not have failed of my object, since it was not my intention in -taking this lad to obtain cheap labor, or to make money out of him.” - -“I should like to know what you did take him for? You’re a sharper man -than I am, can make two dollars where I make one, and calculate to get -labor as cheap as any body.” - -“I took him because I thought it my duty to befriend a friendless boy. -His being a redemptioner had nothing to do with it; but his youth, his -misery, and his liability to be abused had. I don’t believe in cheap -labor, which means dear labor in the end. I don’t believe in losing -fifty bushels of wheat for the sake of saving two shillings on a man’s -wages in harvest. Thus I shall not fail of my object if the boy does not -turn out well, because I shall have discharged my duty. It seems to me, -neighbor, that upon your principle of not risking anything, not trusting -anybody, nor letting the laboring man have a fair chance, lest he should -take advantage of it, that business could not go on, or if it could, -that the relish would be all taken out of life.” - -The conversation was interrupted by the arrival of the hour for -afternoon meeting. - -Sam Dorset invited James to sit with him, he was about to decline but -Bertie gave him a punch in the ribs, and volunteered to go with them, -John and Willie Edibean taking their places in his father’s pew. It was -the design of Bertie to secure a friend for James who had some influence -among people in general, for the drover was a frank, good-natured -fellow, whom few could talk down and very few indeed dared to provoke, -and whose occupation gave him a large acquaintance. - -We shall watch with interest the different methods pursued by these very -different farmers with their redemptioners. - -In the course of the evening, Mrs. Whitman asked James how he liked the -minister. - -“I liked to hear him talk; I knew who he meant by that man he talked -about in the afternoon, it was Mr. Holmes.” - -“No, James, that was the Lord Jesus Christ.” - -“I know he called him so, but that was who he meant, for he said he was -just as good as he could be, and went about doing good, and that’s just -what Mr. Holmes was, and just the way he did. I suppose he was afraid -Mr. Holmes wouldn’t like it if he knew he called him by name.” - -“But, dear child, Mr. Holmes was nothing but a man, and the Lord Jesus -Christ is God.” - -“The minister said he was a man and had feelings just like anybody. He -said he was born at a place called Bethlehem (if he was born he must be -a man) and told how he grew up, and said when a friend of his, a Mr. -Lazarus, died, he felt so bad he wept, and after that he died himself; -and now you say he was God, but one Sunday a good while ago when I said -God was a man, you said he wasn’t, he was a spirit.” - -“You had better drop the subject there, wife. And you will understand it -better by and by, James, when you have heard more,” said Mr. Whitman, -“and when you can read the scriptures for yourself.” - -This incident, however trifling in itself, gave token that new ideas had -begun to stir in that hitherto vacant mind, and to shape themselves into -processes of connected thought. It, at the same time, served to confirm -in the minds of his friends the belief already cherished, that he -possessed a most retentive memory; as they found that as far as he could -understand what he had listened to, he could repeat the most of both -sermons, and had committed the questions and answers in the catechism by -hearing Mr. Whitman ask them and the boys reply. The result of which was -that when they came to go through the catechism again, he could get -along as well without the book as the others could by its aid, and could -repeat what he was unable to read. - - - - - CHAPTER X. - THE REDEMPTIONER AT SCHOOL. - - -The great chestnut was the favorite resort of the boys and their mates -for planning all sorts of enterprises. In the hollow of it they kept -their bows and arrows, fishing-poles and bats. It was so large that a -little closet was made in one side, where they put foot-balls, -fish-hooks, skates, powder-horns, shot, bullet-moulds and anything they -wished to keep safe and dry. But in the winter they met for consultation -in a little room over the workshop, which was used to keep bundles of -flax in. And being on the south side of the barn, and three of its sides -and the space overhead filled with hay,—while the chimney of the -workshop ran through it,—was warm enough for them. When there was a fire -in the workshop they sat on bundles of flax with their backs against the -chimney; when there was not they burrowed in the hay and kept warm by -contact, or wrapped themselves in skins. The great object of Peter and -Bertie in introducing James to the Edibean boys, was that when he should -go to school he might have some companions beside themselves. They had -succeeded in inspiring them with the like interest for the welfare of -James, and many and grave were the consultations held under the great -tree, as the time for school to commence drew near. - -In pursuance of a settled plan, the Edibeans began to come to Mr. -Whitman’s in the evenings. James was unwilling to spell or read before -them, or even to write, lest they should look over, and wanted Bertie to -go up stairs with him. - -It was, however, no part of the boys’ plan to permit this, for their -design in inviting the Edibeans was to bring James to recite before -them, and thus to moderate the shock to his extreme diffidence that they -foresaw would occur when he should be compelled to recite before the -whole school; and Bertie, excessively proud of his pupil’s progress, -longed to exhibit him to his friends. So he hit upon this plan,—Willie -Edibean was a poor writer, but an excellent scholar in other respects. -Bertie borrowed his writing-book, and showing it to James and the -family, said,— - -“There, James, only see how much better your writing is than Willie -Edibean’s. Isn’t it, father? Isn’t it, mother? See, gran’pa.” - -“It is a great deal better,” said Mr. Whitman, taking both the books in -his hand and comparing them, and then handing them to his father. - -“James,” said the latter, “you need not be afraid to show that -writing-book to anybody.” - -“May I show it to the boys, James, next time they come?” said Bertie. - -“When are they coming?” - -“Day after to-morrow night.” - -“I don’t want them to see this old book that I began in, but I’ve -written it full, and to-night I’m going to begin the new one your father -brought me. I will write in that to-night and to-morrow night instead of -reading and spelling, and then you can let ‘em see that.” - -When the evening came and Bertie produced the writing-book, James’ face -was redder than a fire coal. The boys lavished their praises upon the -writing, in which all the family joined. Indeed they laid it “on with a -trowel.” - -To relieve the embarrassment of James, and prevent the boys from -increasing it by their questions, Mrs. Whitman placed a bowl of -butternuts and chestnuts upon the table. But the old grandfather changed -the subject much more effectually by saying,— - -“Fifty years ago this morning, about day-break I shot a Seneca Indian -behind the tree these butternuts grew on, with that rifle that hangs -over the fireplace, buried him under it, and his bones are there now.” - -No more was thought of writing, reading, or spelling, that evening, and -for half an hour the nuts were untasted. - -James soon became so accustomed to the Edibeans, that he did not -hesitate to write when they were present, and John Edibean proposed that -they should have a reading-lesson together, and also a writing-lesson, -after which they should spell together, the whole family taking part, -which was done. - -James could now read short sentences and spell most words of two -syllables, and could make a better pen than any of them; the boys soon -ascertained this and got him to make their pens. So little a matter as -this tended very much to inspire him with confidence, and help him -overcome the shrinking sensitiveness and self-deprecation when -contrasting himself with others, and which he ever manifested in the -expression, “such as me or the likes of me.” - -When they were about to write, it was quite ludicrous to hear Bertie -sinking the master in the pupil, and with much effort to keep a sober -countenance, saying,— - -“Master, please mend my pen.” - -Jonathan Whitman had a good set of carpenter’s tools, made all his farm -implements that were constructed of wood, and repaired his buildings. -This tendency he inherited from his father, who, according to the son, -possessed much more mechanical ability and ingenuity than himself, -though the stern struggles and exigencies of his early life left scant -opportunity for the practice of it. But now in his old age he spent much -time in the shop, repaired all the farming tools, and was considered the -best man to make a wheel or stock a rifle in the whole county. - -One day he was making a gate, and having lined some boards, set James to -split them up with a ripping saw, and after he had finished, said,— - -“You have split those boards as true as I could have split them, and cut -the chalk mark right out. If I had set either of our boys to splitting -them, the line would have been left sometimes on one side and sometimes -on the other, and they’d have been sawed bevelling, and wider on one -side than the other.” - -He then laid out some mortises, and set James to boring and beating them -out with mallet and chisel, and then to planing the slats, after which -he said,—“James, I see you have a mechanical eye and a natural turn to -handle tools. I knew that before by your chopping. I advise you to -cultivate it, because it will give you a means to earn your bread. I’m -most always here stormy days in the winter, come in and practise with -the tools, and I’ll show you. If, as I trust you will, you should have a -piece of land, it will be a great thing in a new settlement to be able -to handle tools.” - -Scarcely had the old gentleman and James left the shop, than Peter, -Bertie, and the Edibeans came in, replenished the fire to heat the -chimney, and taking some skins from the wagon, ascended to the loft -above, and seated themselves for consultation, evidently with something -of great weight upon their minds. - -“The fact is,” said Peter, “school begins in two days. James is going, -father says so. How he’ll look, great big creature, bigger than the -master,—yes, he could take the master and fling him over his -head,—standing up to read and spell with little tots not up to his -knees. I don’t believe he’ll be able to get a word out.” - -“That’s not the worst of it,” said John Edibean, “perhaps some of ‘em -will laugh because he’s a _redemptioner_, Sammy Parsons called Mr. -Wood’s man an old redemptioner, and the man flung a stone at him and -hurt him awfully.” - -The master, Walter Conly, was a farmer’s son, living two miles distant, -and the boys knew him well, as he had kept the school the winter -previous. - -“Let us do this,” said Willie, “Walter Conly is a nice man; we’ll go -over there this evening, tell him all about James, how fast he learns -and how hard we’ve been trying to help him, and ask him if he won’t hear -him read by himself, and not put him in a class with little children.” - -“So we will,” said Bertie, “he’s going to board round, and I’ll ask -father to tell him to come to our house first and get him to send a note -by me, and then James will get acquainted with him. We’ll call you the -minute we get our supper.” - -Mr. Conly, a young man of nineteen, who labored on his father’s farm in -the summer and taught school in the winter, and under the instruction of -the minister was fitting for college, received this deputation of his -best scholars with great cordiality. He listened to their story with -great interest, and expressed his gratification at the spirit they had -manifested, and the efforts they had put forth to benefit James, but -told them that he would improve much faster to be in a class than to -recite by himself, as there would be more stimulus, though he might be -subjected to some mortification at first. - -“If,” said he, “James has so good a memory, and is as willing to apply -himself as you have represented, he will very soon begin to excel his -mates, because the mind of a boy of that age is more mature than the -mind of a child, and he is capable of more application. He will outstrip -them, that will encourage him. I will then put him into a class with -older scholars, which will stimulate him still more. I shall put him to -nothing but reading, writing, and spelling, for the first two months, -but at home you can teach him the multiplication table, and then give -him some sums to do in his head, and thus prepare him to cipher the last -part of the school term.” - -Bertie was a beautiful boy, with a face that expressed every emotion of -his heart, and Mr. Conly, observing a shade of disappointment upon his -handsome features, said,—“Boys, you have manifested such a noble spirit -in regard to James, that I would not, for any consideration, that you -should feel hurt or be in any way discouraged. On the other hand, I want -you to feel satisfied and happy, and if you are not content with my -method I will hear him by himself.” - -The boys, after talking the matter over among themselves, concluded the -master’s plan was the best. - -“I see what troubles you in particular. You fear that as he has never -been at school, coming on the floor to spell, and standing before me a -stranger, will so confuse him that he will not be able to spell perhaps -at all; certainly not to do himself justice. I think, however, we can -get over that. The school was so large last winter that I was compelled -to make use of some of the older scholars as assistants. It will be -larger this winter, as the two districts are to be put together and the -term lengthened. I will appoint you, Albert, to hear the class that I -put James in, and that will go a good way towards giving him -confidence.” - -“O, sir, I thank you.” - -“We all thank you,” said John Edibean. - -“That will make all the difference in the world,” said Peter. “You see, -sir, what makes him so sensitive is that in England they picked upon him -and called him ‘workhouse,’ and in the vessel coming over, the rest of -the redemptioners and the sailors did so. Mr. Wilson told my father, -after he came here, a good many mean fellows at the public-house made -fun of him and called him a redemptioner. He told me that a good many -people who came to look at and see if they would take him, called him -hard names. One man told Mr. Wilson he was a chowder-head; wasn’t worth -his salt, and the best thing he could do would be to put a good stone to -his neck and drop him into the mill-pond. And another man asked Wilson -whose cornfield he robbed to get that scarecrow.” - -“He was lame then, sir,” said Bertie, “‘cause he had cut himself and had -on the worst-looking old clothes, and such a downcast look. But now he -has good clothes; is not lame, has got red cheeks, and we think is real -handsome.” - -“So he is, Bertie,” said Mrs. Conly, the master’s mother. “I saw him in -your pew Sunday, and told husband when we came home I guessed that young -man was some of your mother’s relations from Lancaster.” - -When the boys reached home, Bertie noticed that James seemed a good deal -disturbed about something, and very sad, and in a few moments went to -bed. - -“What is the matter with James, mother? What makes him look so -downcast?” said Bertie. - -“Your father has told him he must go to school, and he feels bad about -it, I suppose.” - -Bertie ran up stairs and told James not to feel bad about going to -school, for the master was a real kind man, and he was going to hear him -recite there just as he did at home. James’ ideas of school were very -vague; he only knew that he was going among a crowd of strange boys to -be exposed to criticism, and put under a new master, but much comforted -by what Bertie told him, he composed himself and went to sleep. - -The morning school was to begin, the boys took an early start, thus -giving James an opportunity to view the schoolhouse. It was a log -building of the rudest kind, and nearly a hundred years old. It had -remained without alteration, except receiving a shingle roof and glazed -windows. The walls were chestnut logs of the largest size, save a few -near the top, and the crevices between them were stuffed with clay, and -moss and hemlock brush had been recently piled to the windows around the -whole building, for the sake of warmth. The door was of plank with -wooden hinges and latch. - -It was situated in a singularly wild and rugged spot, on a high ridge of -broken land, over the surface of which huge boulders and precipices -alternated with abrupt hills and swales of moderate extent, the whole -region heavily timbered with oak, chestnut, and beech. - -The ancient building seemed to have appropriated to itself the only -level spot in the vicinity, a little green plot, though of small extent. - -It was bounded on the northwest by a precipice that rose perpendicularly -above the roof of the schoolhouse that was built within a few feet of -it. On the summit of this cliff were large beeches that thrust their -gnarled roots into the interstices of the rock, and flung their branches -over the ancient building. The main road was through a natural break in -the ridge of rock, and beside it a pure spring of water supplied the -wants of the school, and the necessities of travellers. - -There lay in the mind of this apparently stolid lad, whose life hitherto -had known neither childhood nor joyous youth, a keen susceptibility to -impressions of the beautiful and majestic in nature. Through all those -years of misery it had lain dormant and undeveloped, but of late the -woods and fields had begun to have a strange fascination for him, he -knew not why, and his happiest hours were spent while laboring alone in -the forest. He had as yet seen nothing to compare in rugged grandeur and -beauty with this, and the old schoolhouse was in such perfect keeping -with its wild surroundings that it seemed to have grown there. - -“Do let me look a little longer.” - -This to Bertie, who was pulling him by the arm and saying,—“Come, let’s -go into the schoolhouse. I want you to speak to Arthur and Elmer Nevins -before the rest come; they are first-rate boys and live close by here, -this land is on their farm. I want you to see Edward Conly, the master’s -brother, too.” - -“In a moment.” - -James kept gazing, and for the first time the thought came into his -mind: “Oh, that I could own land like this!” As this idea like the -lightning’s flash darted through his mind, and with it all the stories -he had heard the old grandfather tell of persons who began with only -their hands and obtained a freehold, it was with reluctance he at last -permitted Bertie (who might as well have tugged at a mountain) to pull -him away from the spot. - -Entering the house they found the Nevins boys, Edward Conly, and a few -more of both girls and boys present, with a fire sufficient to roast an -ox and every window open. The boys had overdone the matter, for the -schoolhouse, though old, was warm, being sheltered by the precipice and -the forest from the cold winds. It had been stuffed with moss and clay -that fall, and the logs, though decayed on the outside were of great -size, making a very thick wall and sound at heart. - -If the outside of the house had arrested the attention of James, the -inside was much more calculated to do so. The fireplace was of stone. -The jambs and mantel were large single stones, the back composed of -single stones set edgewise upon each other. There were a large pair of -shovel and tongs, but no andirons, and in their stead were two stones -four feet in length, and a foot in height, to hold the wood and afford a -draft beneath, and an iron bar laid across to keep the wood from rolling -out. - -The walls were of rough logs with the bark still adhering, except where -it had been pulled off by the busy fingers of the children. There was no -flooring above, all was open to the roof and the purlins were decked -with swallows’ nests, the birds having found admittance at some place -where the clay had fallen out, and despite the noise of the children -during the summer school, had reared their young and migrated at the -approach of winter. Along the walls on either side were seats for single -scholars, and the space between was filled up with seats that held -three, and aisles between. - -Arthur Nevins was nineteen, and Edward Conly eighteen, they were -therefore among the largest boys, excellent scholars, of good principles -and dispositions, and met James in a very kind and social manner. - -“I am going to take my old seat,” said Bertie, selecting one of the -single seats in the back corner,—“Where are you going to have yours, -James?” - -“I don’t know.” - -“Well, take the one right before me, put your books in it, and sit down, -then you’ll hold it.” - -Peter, John, and Will Edibean took the back seat next to Bertie; Arthur -and Elmer Nevins, and Edward Conly the seats before them. Thus by -previous arrangement among the boys, who were no novices in these -matters, James had Bertie directly behind; Peter and the Edibeans, -Arthur and Elmer Nevins, and Edward Conly on the side, and behind; all -fast friends to each other and all friendly to him. Peter, Bertie, and -the Edibean boys, had determined to make the school pleasant for James, -by prejudicing the Nevins boys and Edward Conly in his favor, and they -had come to school thus early for that purpose. Let boys alone for -carrying out any plan of that kind they get in their noddles. They never -let the iron cool on the anvil, not they. - -By the time the master came they were nearly all seated, though there -was some bickering about seats, that was not settled but by an appeal to -him, and some trading for seats among the boys themselves. - -The majority of the boys had quills for pens, plucked from their -parents’ geese. - -Nat Witham,—a disagreeable lad, whom the boys had nicknamed Chuck,—sat -in the seat before James; his hands were covered with great seed-warts -that he was always pricking, and endeavoring to put the blood on the -hands of the smaller children, to make them have warts, and pulling the -hair of the children before him. He got more whippings than any boy in -school, and deserved more than he got. - -Bertie and Arthur Nevins gave this boy a Dutch quill each, to change -seats with Stillman Russell, a good scholar, and a boy whom they all -liked. Having thus successfully carried out all their plans, the -Whitmans and Edibeans flattered themselves that they had arranged -matters satisfactorily for their own progress and comfort, and that of -James during the school term, but they were destined to find that,— - - “The best-laid schemes o’ mice and men - Gang aft a-glee.” - -Great was the curiosity manifested, when the master called out the class -to which James had been assigned, and told Bertie to hear them. You -might have heard a pin drop. James was taller by a head than any boy in -the school, and his classmates were children; they had attended a -woman’s school in the summer, but it was two months’ previous; they had -become rusty, and had to spell half their words. James, on the other -hand, who had been over the lesson with Bertie the evening before and -early that morning, read right along in a very low tone, but without -hesitating a moment, greatly to the relief of Bertie, whose heart was in -his mouth, for he was afraid James would not muster courage to hear the -sound of his own voice. - -It was no less a matter of surprise to the school, most of whom were -ready to titter at seeing such a big fellow reading with little -children. - -When, in the afternoon, he came to write, and the master complimented -him for the excellence of his writing, James took heart of grace and -felt that the worst was over, and when he entered the house at night, -Mrs. Whitman gathered from the expression of his face that all had gone -well. - -While Peter and James were doing up the chores at the barn, Bertie, who -was bringing in the night’s wood, embraced the opportunity to unbosom -himself to his mother. - -“Oh, mother, James did first-rate, ma’am, first-rate.” - -“Yes, child, I hear you.” - -“He’s tickled to death. What do you suppose he did, mother? He didn’t -know anybody saw him, but I was up on the haymow; he put both arms round -Frank’s neck, and hugged him, and talked to him ever so long, and I -expect he told Frank how glad he was that he had read and spelt, before -the whole school, and got through the first day.” - -“What reply did Frank make?” said his mother, laughing. - -“He wickered. You may laugh, mother, but he knew well enough that James -was glad, and that was his way to say he was glad too.” - -“I suppose Frank heard you on the mow, and wickered for some hay.” - -“James,” said Bertie, not heeding the interruption, “won’t talk with -other folks, but he’s all the time talking to the horses when he thinks -nobody hears him.” - -The naturally proud and sensitive nature of James shrank from familiar -contact with those who had been reared under such different conditions. -He was haunted with the notion that, in their secret mind they looked -upon him as inferior, and notwithstanding the kindness they manifested, -did in thought revert to his former condition; but in regard to the -animals this feeling had no place, he lavished upon them his caresses, -and understood their expressions of gratitude. To them, he well knew, -the redemptioner and “work’us” was master, benefactor, friend. - -Thus passed away the first week of school, to the mutual satisfaction of -all concerned. - - - - - CHAPTER XI. - THE PLOT EXPOSED. - - -The next week the master set James copies in fine hand, and also copies -of capital letters; and he began to learn at home, and recite to Bertie, -the multiplication table, that was, in those days, printed on the covers -of the writing-books. The next week the master gave him short sentences -to copy, and wound up the week’s work on Saturday, with setting him for -a copy of his own name and that of his mother before her marriage. James -was so much delighted with this as to overcome his usual diffidence, and -show it to Mr. Whitman. - -When school was half done, Mr. Conly put James into the class with -Bertie, who no longer instructed James in reading, spelling, or writing -at home, as the latter could read nearly as well as his former teacher; -and write much better than any boy in the school, or even the master. - -The afternoon of Saturday was a half-holiday and stormy; the old -gentleman had a fire and was at work in the shop. Mr. Whitman having -broken a whiffletree in the course of the week, laid the broken article -on the bench, intending to mend it. James saw it, made a new one by it, -and put the irons of the old one on the ends. About the middle of the -afternoon, Mr. Whitman bethought himself of the whiffletree, and going -to the shop, found the remains of it on the bench, and a new one lying -beside it. - -“Father, did you make this whiffletree?” - -“No, Jonathan; your redemptioner made it.” - -Mr. Whitman made no remark, but his father noticed that afterwards, on -stormy days, he but seldom gave James any indoor work, but seemed well -content to have him work in the shop with his father, who in the course -of the winter and spring taught him to dovetail, hew with a broad axe, -and saw with a whipsaw. - -Although Peter, Bertie, and their friends, had taken such unwearied -pains, and exhausted their ingenuity, to render the position of James at -school both pleasant and profitable, circumstances conspired to render -their efforts, to a great extent, and for some time, abortive. - -Children hear all that is said in the family, and often much more than -it is meant, or desirable, they should. - -Many of the boys at the other extremity of the district, had seen James -while Wilson had him at the tavern. They had many of them heard -disparaging remarks made by their parents and brothers at home. Some of -them had listened to the talk in the public-house by their elders -respecting him, and imbibed the tone of feeling in the neighborhood that -was in general hostile to redemptioners, and were thus prejudiced -against him, even before he came to school. The parents of some of the -largest scholars were, in politics, the opposite of the Whitmans, and -they had heard their parents say that no doubt Jonathan Whitman took -that ragamuffin to train him up to vote as he wanted him to, and then -would get him naturalized. This feeling of prejudice would have probably -worn off, if James had been less reserved, and had joined with the rest -in the horse-plays that were ever going on at recess and between -schools. - -James, however, did not know how to play; sport and amusement were to -him terms without signification. The only things he could do that boys -generally practise were to shoot, swim, and throw stones. He could shoot -indifferently well, swim like a fish, and could kill a bird or a -squirrel with a stone. - -His sensitiveness made him believe the boys would not care to associate -with him, and his whole mind was given to his books, for he had begun to -appreciate the value of knowledge, and desired to make the most of the -present opportunity, for he did not expect to have another. - -When the other boys were at play during noon and recess, he was in his -seat getting his lessons, and never spoke unless he was spoken to. - -This gave occasion to those who had come prepared to dislike him to say -that he was stuck up; that the Whitmans and Edibeans, Nevins and Conlys, -had made too much of him; that he was getting too large for his -trousers, and should be taken down, and they were the boys to take him -down; that he put on great airs for a redemptioner, just out of the -workhouse. - -Some were nettled because he, in so short a time, distanced them in -study, and in spelling went above them, and kept above. - -The master one day gave mortal offence to William Morse, because, being -busy setting copies, he told him to go to James to mend his pen. - -Some who disliked the Whitmans and Edibeans, because they were better -scholars than themselves, and their parents were better off, were -willing to see James annoyed, because they knew it would annoy them. - -Chuck Witham felt aggrieved because he had sold his seat so cheap, and -wanted Bertie and Arthur Nevins to give him two more quills; but they -told him a bargain was a bargain, that they gave him all he asked; and -being possessed of a sullen, vindictive temper, he likewise was on the -watch to annoy them through James. - -This hostile spirit had been long fermenting in the breasts of a portion -of the scholars, and was only prevented from breaking out in offensive -acts from wholesome fear of the strength of James, and uncertainty in -regard to the temper of one so reserved. - -The boys were constantly pitting themselves against each other, and -testing their strength and activity by wrestling, jumping and lifting -rocks and logs. - -James never manifested the least interest in their sport, not even -enough to look on. Thus they could find no opportunity to form any -estimate of his strength, or disposition. His whole bearing, however, -was indicative both of strength and activity, for he had lost the low, -creeping gait he once had, and the despondent look. In addition to this, -two of their number, Ike Whitcomb and John Dennet, were fishing for eels -in the mill-pond the day Wilson brought James to Mr. Whitman, and told -the others that they saw him pitch the barrels of flour into the wagon -as though they had been full only of apples. This information tended -also to inspire caution. - -There was still another sedative, and by no means the least influential. -There was a circle of friends around James, not merely those we have -named, but several others from both districts, of like sympathies and -principles; and though far inferior in numbers, they comprised the best -minds and the most energetic persons of the whole school, and were -actuated by a sentiment of chivalry, taking the part of the oppressed, -that made them doubly formidable. - -Arthur Nevins was in his twentieth year; the most, athletic boy in the -school, the leader in all exercises that tested strength and endurance, -and resolute as a lion. There was no doubt which side he would take, in -any affair that Peter or Bertie Whitman were concerned in. - -As, however, this feeling of enmity increased, and grew all the faster -from being causeless, and open rupture being considered imprudent,—it -found vent at first in ill-natured remarks, slurs and gibes, as, for -instance: “There goes the redemptioner.” “Here comes ‘work’us;’ got any -cold vittles?” “Any old clo’es?” - -At noon, when James was in the schoolhouse, and his enemies outside, one -boy would shout to another so as to be heard all over the -schoolhouse,—“I say, John Edmands, do you know how to pick oakum?” - -“No.” - -“Well, then ask Redemptioner. He learned the trade in the work’us, and -he’s a superior workman.” - -Did James leave the schoolroom at recess, half a dozen snowballs flung -by nobody would hit him. When at night he had his books under his arm -going home a volley of balls would cover his books with snow. - -James endured all this in silence, and without manifesting the least -resentment, which only served to encourage imposition. Not so, however -the Whitmans, and the Nevins boys, and the Valentines; when either of -those caught a boy flinging a snowball at James, they returned it with -interest, and Arthur Nevins generally had an icy one at hand. - -This brought on a general snowball fight, under cover of which James, as -his enemies said, “meeched” off. - -It was now the turn of James to build the fire. Orcutt, who built it the -morning previous, had put on a very large rock-maple log, which, being -but half burnt out, gave promise of a noble bed of coals for James to -kindle his fire with in the morning. - -After school at night, the three boys cut up and carried into the -schoolhouse a large quantity of wood to build the morning fire, but when -James reached the schoolhouse in the morning, there was not a coal on -the hearth, the fireplace was full of half-melted snow, and not a single -stick of all the wood carried in the night before was to be found -anywhere. - -James had his axe on his shoulder, and was equal to the occasion; he cut -a log, back-stick, fore-stick, and small wood, went into the woods and -split kindling from a pine stump, then went to Mr. Nevins’ for fire. -Arthur and Elmer instantly came with him; Elmer with a firebrand, and -Arthur hauling a load of dry wood on a hand-sled, which, in addition to -what James had already prepared, made one of the hottest fires of the -season, and soon dried up the snow-water that flooded the hearth, and -the floor around it that was smeared with ashes. They cut some -hemlock-brush, made a broom, and soon restored things to their pristine -order. - -“Now,” said Arthur, “whoever did this thing thought that James, not -being used to wood fires, would not be able to make one; the master and -scholars would get here, find no fire, and he would appear like a fool, -and be blamed. James, don’t you lisp a word of it, and we won’t; if it -comes out, the one who did it will have to tell of it himself, and then -we shall find out who did it.” - -The perpetrators of the trick did not know that James had built the fire -every morning at Mr. Whitman’s for two months. - -Just as the school was called to order, Arthur and Elmer came in, and -stood so long with their backs to the fire, that the master at last -said,— - -“Boys, are you not sufficiently warm?” - -They were by no means suffering from cold, but as they stood thus, -facing the whole school, they took careful note of the surprise depicted -on several faces at finding a good fire, and everything as usual, -likewise of sundry nods, winks, and whispers; sometimes saw something -written on a slate, and the slate held up for some one in another seat -to read the message. When the two brothers came to compare notes that -night, after returning home, they were not in much doubt as to the -perpetrators of this low trick. - -The Nevins boys held themselves in readiness to assist James, if -needful, the next morning, who came early but found everything as usual. - -“Their gun has missed fire,” said Arthur to James. - -“Elmer, you and I must be all eyes and ears, for we shall certainly hear -about it to-day. They’ll get no fun out of it, unless it comes out.” - -It was not long after school began, before there took place an unusual -movement all over the room. Every one seemed to be excited in regard to -something, but in a very different way; some very much pleased, but by -far the larger number indignant. Presently a slate was passed to Arthur, -on which was written, “There is a story going, that night before last -the fireplace was filled with snow, and all the wood we cut was carried -off; but it is a lie, for if it had been so, James would have told us of -it,” signed “Albert.” - -The slate was passed back with the question, “Who told?” - -Soon the answer was returned,— - -“Chuck Witham started it.” - -At recess the affair became a matter of discussion, but it was almost -universally condemned. Even most of those who were prejudiced against -James and the Whitmans revolted at the low character of this act. - -The girls came out _en masse_ in favor of James, avowing it was the -meanest and most dastardly thing they ever had heard of; that there was -not a more obliging or better behaved boy in the school than James, and -if they knew who the fellows that did it were they would never speak to -them again. - -The girls had ascertained the willingness of James to oblige; for, -noticing that he always made and mended pens for Bertie Whitman, they -got Maria to carry their pens and quills to him, and as they became -better acquainted, went to him themselves. - -Arthur Nevins said very little, but taking Chuck aside said,— - -“Who told you all that news?” - -“Sam Topliff.” - -He went to Sam, and found that Will Orcutt told him. Going to Orcutt he -inquired,— - -“Who told you about what was done in the schoolhouse, night before -last?” - -“None of your business.” - -“Say that again, I’ll shake your teeth out of your head; you were one of -them.” - -“No, I wasn’t one of them, neither.” - -“Ay, my fine fellow, you may think it a good joke, but I can tell you it -may prove a sore joke to you. Every decent boy, and all the girls in -school, are down on you; and if it gets to the ears of the master and -the school-committee, you’ll see trouble, for it was not merely a trick -upon a boy, but it was trespass, breaking into the schoolhouse in the -night. You broke a lock, you villain. Mr. Jonathan Whitman is one of the -school-committee, and is not a man to be trifled with; you had better -think about it.” - -He then left him, but when Arthur started for home at night, Will Orcutt -followed him and said,— - -“I wasn’t one of them, and you needn’t think, nor say, I was.” - -“Then why won’t you tell who told you?” - -Orcutt made no reply. - -“If you’ll tell me the names of all who were in it, I’ll give you a -pistareen, and if you won’t, I’ll tell Mr. Whitman you was one of them.” - -“I’m afraid to; they’ll lick me to death.” - -“I never will tell who told me.” - -“But they’ll know, because they know I am the only one, except -themselves, who knows who did it.” - -“If I guess whom they were, will you tell me if I guess right?” - -“If, instead of the pistareen, you’ll give me a quarter, and keep it to -yourself till day after to-morrow noon, I’ll tell you.” - -“Why don’t you want me to keep it to myself any longer than till day -after to-morrow noon?” - -“Because to-morrow is my last day of school, and I am going off the next -morning to Reading, to learn a trade, and I know you won’t tell a lie.” - -“I’ll give you the quarter, and promise to keep it till then.” - -“Then go into the schoolhouse with me. I’ll show you on the fire-list.” - -The fire-list was a paper fastened to the master’s desk, on which were -the names of all the boys who were expected to take their turns in -making the fires, and Orcutt pricked with a pin the names of William -Morse, David Riggs, George Orcutt. - -“Two of them are the very fellows I had picked out, the other was Sam -Dinsmore. I never should have thought your brother George would have -been in it.” - -After this matter came out, the boys told James that he was able to take -his own part, and ought not to tamely submit to anymore abuse; for still -the petty insults from small boys, set on by the larger ones, continued. - -Peter Whitman told the others, that there were only four or five large -boys who set the rest on, and they ought to pitch into them, give them a -good beating, and protect James. - -“I don’t feel like going into a fight,” said Arthur, “to protect a -fellow who is better able to protect us than we are him, and could -thrash the whole of ‘em with one hand tied behind him; they are a set of -cowards, and would be quiet enough if they once saw in him any -inclination to resist.” - -“I think as Arthur does,” said Elmer. - -The Edibean boys were of the same mind. - -“But he won’t resist. He’ll only say, ‘It is not for such as me to be -making a disturbance,’” said Bertie, sorely puzzled. - -“Do you think he’s afraid of ‘em, Bertie? Don’t he know we’ll back him -up?” - -“I don’t believe he cares a straw for them, or cares whether anybody -backs him up, or not; but it seems as if he thinks, because he came out -of a workhouse, that he was made for other people to wipe their feet -on.” - -“Let’s go at him,” said Stillman Russell; “and tell him that he must -stick up to them, and thrash the next one who insults him, and we’ll -back him up. But if he don’t, we shan’t care anything about him and -shall be ashamed of him.” - -“That’s it; only leave the last part out, for that would break his -heart, and it would be a falsehood for me to say I would not care -anything about him,” said Bertie; “and let us also do another thing. -James thinks everything of my grandfather; they talk together a great -deal, when they are at work in the shop, and grandfather never will tell -anything if you ask him not to. We’ll tell grandfather the whole story, -and get him to stir James up. If grandfather tells James to defend -himself, he’ll think it’s right, and he will, but as for us, we are but -boys like himself.” - -“It is not for such as me to make any disturbance. I didn’t go to school -to make a disturbance. I went to learn,” was the reply of James to his -aged adviser. - -“_Such as me_,” replied the irate grandfather; “don’t ever use that -phrase again. Haven’t I told you, time and again, that in this country, -one man’s as good as another, provided he behaves as well; and if he -don’t he is not. It’s the character, and not the nation, the blood, nor -money, that makes a man here.” - -“The boys in the school don’t seem to think so.” - -“The most of ‘em do, and their parents do, and the most of their parents -wouldn’t uphold ‘em in anything else. It is only a few rapscallions who -are at the bottom of the whole thing. They are keeping the whole school -in confusion, and taking the attention of the scholars off their -lessons; and you are helping to keep it along by putting up with it. If -they insult you without provocation, knock ‘em over, and they will be -quiet as frogs, when a stone is flung into the pond.” - -“It is not my place to strike and hurt boys whose fathers own land, when -my father hadn’t any land; my mother went out to service and died in the -workhouse, and was buried by the parish. If I was in England they would -all call me a workhouse brat. Old Janet, my nurse, when she got mad used -to say to me,— - -“‘My grandfather was a hieland lord and my father was a hieland -gentleman; but your mither was a servant girl, and your father was a -hedger and ditcher, and out of nothing comes nothing, ye feckless -bairn.’” - -“Pshaw, it’s no fault of yours that your parents were poor and that you -was born in a workhouse, nor disgrace neither; and it’s no merit of -theirs that their fathers own land. It came about in the providence of -God, who is no respecter of persons.” - -“Is not a man who owns land, better than one who don’t?” - -“No; he may be a great deal worse; owning land don’t make a man any -better in the sight of God, and it ought not to in the sight of men.” - -“I always thought that anybody who owned land was next to the quality; -ain’t the quality better?” - -“No.” - -“I always thought they were kind of little kings.” - -“Kings are no better.” - -“O, yes, grandfather, kings must be better, because the Bible tells -about ‘em; and Mr. Holmes always used to say, his most sacred majesty.” - -“All moonshine; half of ‘em are great rascals. Being a king don’t make a -man better or worse any more than owning land does. It only gives them a -better chance to act out their true characters.” - -“If a king was no more and no better than a man, how could he cure the -king’s evil?” - -“No king ever did cure it, and it’s my opinion it never was cured.” - -“O, yes, there was Farmer Vinal’s son, whose father I worked for, had a -great swelling on his neck, and his father carried him into the -procession when the king went to the tower, and the king touched it and -it went away.” - -“I’ve no doubt it went away,” replied the sturdy republican; “but if the -king had never been born, it would have gone away all the same. It’s a -disorder that once in the blood is always there, and goes and comes. -Medicine will appear to cure it, and drive it from one part of the body -to another, and just as like as not, it went away on account of some -medicine the child had been taking. You’d better put all such nonsense -out of your head; it is not worth bringing over the water. If those boys -impose upon you, defend yourself; you are big enough. Give no offence -and take none; the whole district will uphold you in it.” - - - - - CHAPTER XII. - STUNG TO THE QUICK. - - -James could be neither goaded to retaliation by the provocation of his -persecutors, nor stimulated to self-defence by the arguments and -persuasions of his friends, so thoroughly had the bitter lesson of -submission to superiors been impressed by the iron fingers of stern -necessity; but an event now occurred, which, placing the matter before -him in a new light, removed his scruples in a moment. - -The persons who had put the snow in the fireplace were well known to -James, for Arthur had not scrupled to expose them after the time had -elapsed during which he had promised to keep the secret. James also knew -that they still continued to instigate Chuck Witham and other boys to -annoy and insult him. He occupied a side seat near one of the back -corners of the schoolhouse, and his head, when bent over his book, was -on a level with a crevice between two logs, that was stuffed with clay -and moss. One night after school, Chuck Witham bored a small hole -through this clay, and filled the hole with cotton, for fear James would -feel the draft and observe it. The next day he brought to school, half -an ox-goad, with a long brad in it, made of a saddler’s awl. - -The day was warm for the season; there was quite a large fire, and at -recess time, the master opened a window on each side of the fire to -create a draft, and ventilate and cool the room. - -James was in his seat writing, when he suddenly sprang to his feet, -upsetting his inkstand, and throwing all his books to the floor. The -master was walking back and forth on the floor, and seeing him put his -hand to his head, looked out of the window and saw Chuck running from -the hole, for the woods. He instantly pursued and caught him, with the -goad in his hand, called the scholars in and gave him a severe whipping. -Witham, with the expectation of mitigating his punishment, declared that -he was persuaded to it by Morse, Riggs, and Orcutt, and that Will Morse -gave him a two-bladed knife to do this and other things he had done to -James. This declaration was made before the whole school, and Peter and -Arthur Nevins now recollected that William Morse stayed in during -recess, a thing he had never been known to do before, and it was evident -to all that he had stayed in to gloat over the torture about to be -inflicted upon one who had never injured, or even spoken to him. - -The brad was long, and entered deep, for the stab was given with -good-will, and the blood flowed freely. - -At noontime the boys and girls collected together in knots, commenting -upon the affair, when Chuck Witham, still writhing under the effects of -the castigation, for it was most severe, made some disparaging remark -about redemptioners, in a tone loud enough for James to hear, as he was -passing by on his way to the spring, to wash off the blood that had -dried on his neck, upon which William Morse laughed heartily, in which -he was joined by Riggs and Orcutt. - -Perfectly willing to pick a quarrel, Bert replied,—“Morse, you should -have had that licking yourself; for you set Chuck on, and have been at -the bottom of all the mean tricks that have been done, and that you had -not courage to do yourself.” - -This brought a sharp rejoinder from Morse. Riggs and Orcutt sided with -Morse, and the debate became so warm that just as James came along on -his return from the spring, Morse, feeling he was getting the worst of -the argument, caught a stick from the wood-pile and felled Bertie to the -ground. James saw the blow fall on the head of the boy whom he loved -better than himself,—yea, almost worshipped,—his scruples vanished in a -moment. It was no longer the workhouse boy against the landed gentry; -but, forgetting all that, he dealt Morse a blow that cut through his -upper lip, knocked out a tooth, flattened his nose, and sent him -backward over the wood-pile. Riggs turned to run, but came in contact -with the broad shoulders of Arthur Nevins, who was purposely in the way, -and before he could recover himself, James, seizing him behind, flung -him to the ground, and catching up the stick that fell from the hand of -Morse, beat him till he cried murder. While this was going on George -Orcutt would have made his escape, but Stillman Russell, the most -retiring boy in school, and so diffident that he would blush if you -spoke to him, put out his foot and tripped him up. Before he could rise, -Arthur Nevins put his foot on him, but James went into the schoolhouse, -and resumed his studies. - -“Now for Chuck Witham,” shouted Will Edibean. Chuck took to his heels -with three boys after him, but Edward Conly cried,—“He’s had enough; -he’s only an understrapper,” and they came back. - -The boys had formed a ring round Orcutt, and whenever he would attempt -to break through, one would trip him, another pull him over backwards, -and while on his back others would pelt him with great chunks of snow -and crust, or push three or more smaller boys on top of him; and even -the girls took part and flung snowballs, so much was his conduct -detested. In the morning before school, it being a thaw, the smaller -boys had rolled up several great balls of snow, meaning at noon to make -a fort. With these they buried him, and stuck up over him, this -inscription, printed with a smut coal on a piece of fence-board, - - “JUSTICE. - - _Administered by the Scholars of District No. 2._” - -They next formed a cordon around him, snowballs in their hands, and the -moment he attempted to move pelted him anew, and kept watch till the -master was so near that he could not but notice the inscription, and -then all went into the schoolhouse and were seated when he entered. - -Morse having washed himself at the spring, came in late, in company with -Riggs, while George Orcutt crawled out of his prison, and sneaked home. - -The face of Morse was discolored, and his lips swollen, and Riggs -exhibited two red stripes on the back of both hands, and one across his -face, extending from the roots of the hair across the forehead and face -to the lower jaw. They tried to attract the attention of the master. -Morse displayed a bloody handkerchief, and Riggs snivelled occasionally, -but the master was too much occupied to notice them, and asked no -questions. As for James, he was commended by nearly the whole school. - -“Is he not a noble, manly fellow,” said Emily Conly, “to bear so much -from those mean creatures, while he might at any time have done what he -has done to-day?” - -“Yes,” said Mary Nevins, “and when at last he did turn upon them, it was -not upon his own account, but Albert Whitman’s, and our Arthur and Elmer -both say they don’t believe he would have touched them, let them have -done what they might to him, if William Morse had not struck Albert.” - -“What a different spirit he manifested,” said Emily, “from Morse, who -after hiring Witham to stick the awl into James, stayed in at recess to -see and enjoy it, but Renfew didn’t stop and look on when the other -scholars were punishing George Orcutt, but went right back to his books. -Oh, I do like him.” Then feeling she had gone too far, and seeing the -rest of the girls begin to titter, she blushed to the roots of her hair, -and stopped short. - -“Never mind, Emily,” said Jane Gifford; “we all like him; all of the -girls are on the side of the redemptioner.” - -“My brother Stillman thinks the reason he learns so fast, is because he -is so old, and sees the need of it, and makes a business of learning, as -a young boy wouldn’t; and not knowing anybody, and being so by himself, -has nothing to take off his attention. Still. says if he knew all the -boys and girls, and had brothers and sisters, and went with them, to -bees and apple-parings, and singing schools, and parties, and spelling -schools, he wouldn’t learn half so fast; but now he’ll learn as much and -more this winter, than a small boy would in three years,” said Eliza -Russell. - -The friends of James could hardly contain themselves till school was -out. Arthur Nevins had invited Peter, Bertie, the Edibeans, and Ned -Conly, to take supper with him, and have a real “howl of triumph,” and -had sent Elmer home at recess to tell his mother she would have seven -hungry school boys at supper time. After a bountiful supper, they sat -down to eat nuts and apples, and to congratulate each other upon the -success of all their plans. - -“The master,” said Ned Conly, “is going to put James into arithmetic -soon.” - -“He’s got all the multiplication by heart now,” said Bertie, “and every -night after supper, father and grandpa give him sums to do in his head, -and he can add, and subtract, and multiply, and divide, and makes -handsome figures. When he first came to our house he didn’t know how -long a year was, but called four years four times reaping wheat, and -couldn’t tell the clock; but now he can tell how many months there are -in a year, and how many days in a year, and how many hours in a day, and -minutes in an hour, and all about it. I think that’s a good deal for a -boy to do in one fall and winter, starting from nothing. He is fast -learning to handle tools, too, and can dovetail, and plane and saw and -handle a broad axe.” - -The first question asked by Bert when he reached home, was,—“Mother, -where is James?” - -“Gone to bed.” - -“And grandfather, too?” - -“Yes, James said the whole of his multiplication table, and didn’t miss -a figure, and then your father and grandfather gave him sums to do in -his head.” - -“Did he tell you what happened at school to-day?” - -“He didn’t tell us anything.” - -“Just like him. Didn’t he tell you there had been a real sisemarara—an -eruption, an earthquake—there to-day. Didn’t you see the blood on his -shirt collar? Don’t you see that bunch on top of my skull?” displaying a -swelling the size of a hen’s egg. “Oh, he’s done it; he’s done it up to -the handle.” And Bert went capering about the room, and slapping his -sides with his hands. - -“Tell us what you mean, if you mean anything, Albert,” said his father, -“or else sit down and let Peter.” - -“Tell, Pete, tell ‘em regular, and I’ll put in the side windows, the -filagree work.” - -Peter rehearsed the whole matter to his parents, by virtue of keeping -his hand part of the time on Bert’s mouth. - -“Why didn’t you tell your father or me what was going on, and ask your -father’s advice?” - -“Because,” said Peter, “James begged us not to; said he didn’t want to -make a disturbance, and the boys would get ashamed of their tricks after -a while, and leave off. James said we might tell grandfather if he would -promise not to tell, and he did, and so we told him.” - -“What did your grandfather say?” - -“He had a long talk with James, and told him he had borne enough; to -give no offence and take none; but if they continued to insult him, -knock ‘em over.” - -“Well, I don’t know about such doings; husband, what do you think of -it?” - -Jonathan Whitman, who had listened all this time without question, -replied,—“I think father gave good advice, and James did well to take -it.” - -There the matter dropped. Morse, Riggs, and Orcutt were so ashamed, and -so well convinced that nearly all the members of the school heartily -despised them, and that if they made complaint at home the master and -scholars would inform their parents of the provocation James had -received, that they lied to account for their bruises, and made no -complaint at home. - -Jonathan Whitman and his next neighbor, Mr. Wood, were great friends, -and had been from boyhood, though about as unlike as men could well be, -and though, when his boys told him of the doings at school, Mr. Wood -fell in with the general verdict of the district, “served them right,” -he could but feel a little sore, that his neighbor should be so much -more fortunate in his choice of a redemptioner than himself. - -The first time they met he could not forbear remarking,— - -“Jonathan, they say that you are finding out what’s in your redemptioner -pretty fast; that he begins to feel his oats, and is showing a clean -pair of heels. How do you like him now, neighbor?” - -“Better and better. Old Frank is the best horse I ever had, and a little -child might safely crawl between his legs; Bert has done it many a time, -but a man would run the risk of his life who should abuse him.” - -These apparently untoward events accomplished what nothing else could -have done, and which all the efforts of his friends had utterly failed -to effect, they broke the crust and shattered the reserve, hitherto -impenetrable, that isolated him, and furnished a stimulant that urged -him onward in a course of more rapid development. - -Before the boys separated on the evening which they spent together at -Mr. Nevins’, they were closeted an hour in Arthur’s bedroom. What grave -consultations were held, and what profound ideas were originated in -their teeming noddles, will probably never be fully known, save that as -they parted, Bertie shouted back: “Good night; now we’ve got him -a-going, let’s keep him a-going.” - - - - - CHAPTER XIII. - THE SCHOLARS SUSTAIN JAMES. - - -The next morning Peter, Bertie, John, and Will Edibean, the Nevins boys, -and Edward Conly, by pure accident, entered the schoolroom at the same -moment with James, and some little time before the master came. - -James, as usual, made directly for his seat; but they all surrounded and -crowded him along to the fireplace, and instantly the Wood boys, the -Kingsburys, the Kendricks, Stillman Russell, and all the girls, got -round him, shook hands with him, told him he did just right, the day -before, that those boys had always domineered over the smaller scholars, -set them on to mischief, and made trouble in school, and with the master -when they could. James, to his amazement, found himself the centre of an -admiring crowd; he blushed and fidgeted, stood first upon one foot, then -upon the other, and rolled up his eyes, till Bertie, fearing he would -burst into tears, as he did when he received his new clothes, took him -by the hand, and said,— - -“Come, James, let us look over the reading-lesson before the master gets -here.” - -When recess came, Peter and Bertie went to his seat, and asked James to -go out and play with them. This, to use a homely phrase, “struck him all -of a heap.” - -“How can I go? I don’t know how to play any of your plays.” - -“We are not going to play plays or wrestle, but fire snowballs at a -mark, and you are first-rate at that,” said Peter. - -James still declined; but Bertie stuck to him like bird-lime, and so did -Peter, who called Ned Conly, whom James particularly liked, to aid them; -but all in vain, till at length Bertie said,— - -“Come, James, if you don’t want to go upon your own account, go to -please me; this is the first thing I ever asked you to do for me.” - -James rose directly; and Bertie, taking him by the hand, led him out of -the house in triumph. The windows of the school were furnished with -board shutters, and the boys had utilized one of them for a target by -propping it with stones, and making three circles on it, and a bull’s -eye in the centre. The boys, having heard how well James could throw -stones, stipulated that he should stand six paces farther from the -target than the rest, otherwise, they said, “there would be no chance -for them.” - -As James wanted the sport to go on to please Bert, he assented to this. -Bert threw the first ball, hitting just outside the centre ring. - -“I can beat that,” said John Kendrick, and hit within the second ring. - -Arthur Nevins hit right on the third ring. None of them, however, struck -the bull’s eye. It was now the turn of James. His first ball struck -within the innermost circle, and about half-way from that to the bull’s -eye; and the second he planted directly in the central dot, and covered -it all over. They all shouted,— - -“You can’t do that again.” - -Upon which he plumped another on the second. None of the boys except -James hit the centre, but very few within the second ring; and they were -blowing their fingers, and beginning to tire of the sport, when Sam -Kingsbury, pointing upwards, shouted,— - -“Only look there!” - -Following the direction of his finger, they saw an owl of the largest -size (that had been overtaken by daylight before he could reach his -roosting-place) sitting upon the branch of a large oak, motionless, and -apparently lost in meditation, and entirely regardless of the uproar -beneath. - -“If anybody had a gun,” said Arthur Nevins. “I wonder if there’s time to -run home and get mine before school begins.” - -“No,” said Peter, “and if you should, perhaps you’d miss him; but I’ll -bet James’ll take him with a snowball.” - -“I could with a good stone, but I don’t think I can with a snowball; for -I never threw a snowball in my life before to-day.” - -James searched the stone wall of the pasture, but could find no stone to -suit him, and urged by the boys to try, made three snowballs as hard as -he could, with a small stone in the centre of each. The first ball -brushed the feathers of the philosophical bird, and broke the thread of -his meditations; but as he was gathering himself up to fly, a second -struck him with such force under the wing as to bring him down half -stunned into the snow, and before he could recover himself Ned Conly -flung his cap over his head and caught him. - -“Give him to me, will you, Ned?” said Bertie. - -“I will, if you and Peter and James will come over to my house to supper -to-morrow night and spend the evening.” - -James objected decidedly to this arrangement. - -“Well, he can’t have the owl unless you come.” - -“Come, James, do go, because I want it ever so much to put it in a cage. -I never had an owl in my life. I have had crows, and eagles, and -bluejays, and robins, and coons, and foxes, and gray squirrels. I’ve got -a nice cage that my bob-o-link was in.” - -James was sorely pressed. He liked Ned Conly, for Ned and Stillman -Russell were the only boys with whom he had any intercourse approaching -to intimacy. Ned Conly in school sat next beside and Stillman Russell -before him; he also could not bear to prevent Bertie from getting the -bird that he saw he wanted. The perspiration fairly stood in drops on -his forehead. At length he said,— - -“I cannot go to supper, for then there would be nobody to do the chores, -and it would not look well to leave Mr. Whitman to do them, but I’ll -come after supper.” - -They, therefore compromised on that ground. - -“The master’s coming; how shall we keep him till school’s done?” said -Bert. - -“Cut his head off,” said James. - -This was the first time that James had ever volunteered a remark, or -been guilty of an approach to a witticism, and Peter stared at him -astonished. - -“I’ve got a skate-strap; you may have that,” said Chuck Witham, who was -aching to be once more noticed, for no one spoke to him now. - -“Thank you,” said Bert, though not very cordially, and took it, and with -this they fastened the owl in the entry of the schoolhouse. - -“Is not Ned Conly as quick as lightning?” said Arthur Nevins to Elmer; -“who but he would have thought of that way to get James over there; he -might have invited him till Doomsday to no purpose, but when James found -Bertie couldn’t have the owl unless he went, that brought him. Only -think how long we’ve been trying to get him to come to our house.” - -[Illustration: JAMES BRINGS DOWN AN OWL. Page 175.] - -“What shall we do with James, mother?” said Peter, as he and Bertie were -preparing to go to Mr. Conly’s. “What shall we do with him when he -comes? We don’t want him to sit all the evening and look straight into -the fire, and never open his mouth, and Ned won’t either, and he’ll be -frightened half to death.” - -“I’ll tell you what to do,” said the grandfather; “ask him questions -that he cannot answer by yes and no; he’ll have to answer them, and -after he hears the sound of his own voice a few times he’ll gain -courage.” - -“What shall we ask him?” - -“Ask him about the manner in which they do farming work in the old -country, and if you can get him started, he will, I have no doubt, tell -a great many things that Mr. Conly’s folks would like to know, for he -never learned to reap, and mow, and break flax, and swingle it, and -handle horses as he does, without working on the land a good deal. He -talks when he is in the shop with me.” - -The boys set out, leaving Maria to come with James, in order that he -might not be obliged to come in alone. - -The Conly family consisted of Emily, Edward, and Walter the -schoolmaster, who was then boarding at the Edibeans. - -After James and Maria came in, the first greetings were over, and the -usual remarks in regard to the weather and the school had been made, and -something said about a spelling school that was to come off in the near -future. James merely listening, the conversation began to lag. Bertie -grew desperate, and as was his wont resolved to make or mar, began to -tell Mr. Conly about James hitting the owl, and about the accuracy with -which he could throw stones, and then turned to James and asked,— - -“James, how did you learn to throw stones almost as true as folks fire -bullets?” - -“I learned by throwing road metal when working on the roads. In England -they keep a good many parish poor at work breaking stones for the roads; -every man has a pile of stones before him, a hammer and a ring, he -breaks a stone till it is small enough to go through the ring and then -throws it on the pile.” - -“What does he put it through a ring for?” - -“Because the rings are all of a size, and that makes the stones all of a -size, then they haul these stones and spread ‘em very thick on the -roads, and spread coarse gravel on them, and roll the whole down with a -great iron roller that it takes four and sometimes six horses to haul, -and roll it down so hard that a wheel won’t dent it.” - -“It must make a nice road,” said Mr. Conly. - -“Yes, sir, one horse would haul as much on that kind of a road as two, -yes, as three, on the roads we have here. I was set at work on the -roads, and we didn’t work half the time and used to practise throwing -stones. There was one fellow, Tom Lockland, could beat me,—and but -one,—I knew how to break a stone to make it go true.” - -“Where did you learn to drive horses? They say when you first came here -you knew how to drive horses,” said Ned Conly, who perceived what Bert -would be after. - -“The governor at the workhouse used to hire me out to drive the teams to -haul these stones. I drove one horse first, and then two, and then four, -and sometimes six to draw the great roller.” - -“Why, then,” said Mr. Conly, “couldn’t you go and work for yourself and -support yourself?” - -“Because there’s no work to be had. Why, sir, there are five men to do -one man’s work. People are so plenty a man can only get a day’s work -once in a while, and get so little for it that it will barely keep him -alive, and when there’s no work he must fall back upon the parish or -starve. The farmers don’t generally like to hire the parish poor, and -then the settlement hurts poor people.” - -“What’s that?” - -“If a man gets a settlement in a parish, and can’t maintain himself, -that parish must help maintain him.” - -“How does he get a settlement?” - -“If a man was born in any parish, his settlement is there. If he is -bound for an apprentice forty days in a parish, his settlement is there. -If he has been hired for a year and a day, he gains a settlement. If he -has rented a house that is valued at ten pounds a year he gains a -settlement.” - -“I understand; it’s something like what we call gaining a residence.” - -“Well, sir, the settlement act works very badly for a poor laboring man. -Some of the parishes are quite small, and if in the parish where a poor -person belongs, and has got his settlement, there is no work he can’t go -into the next parish and get work, though there may be plenty of work -there.” - -“Why can’t he go?” - -“He can go, sir, but he will get no work, for nobody will hire him for -fear he will get out of work or fall sick, and stay long enough to gain -a settlement; they will say: ‘Get you back to where you came from,’ and -hustle him right out. Sometimes the farmers will hire a man for a few -days short of a year, lest he should gain a settlement. They will take a -boy out of the workhouse, keep him all summer till after harvest, and -then quarrel with him and drive him off.” - -“Can’t they be obliged to take an apprentice?” - -“Yes, sir, or pay a fine; but the fine is so light they had sometimes -rather pay the fine.” - -Bertie found that by thus drawing a “bow at a venture,” he had struck -upon a fruitful theme, and the evening passed so rapidly that it was -nine o’clock before they thought it was eight, and when at last they -came to separate, Mr. Conly made James promise that he would come again -with Peter and Bertie. So much had his feelings and temper become -modified by the discipline to which these high-minded boys, guided -solely by their own instincts, had subjected him, that as Bertie told -his mother when they got home, “James didn’t hang back at all when Mr. -Conly asked him to come again with us, but said he would like to.” - -“So that is the young man,” said Mr. Conly, to his family after the boys -had gone, “that some of the scholars took a miff at as a redemptioner, -and outlandish, and all that. I for one have got a good deal of -information this evening, and I doubt very much if William Morse, or -Riggs, or George Orcutt, could give so good an account of the methods of -work here.” - -“Father,” said Peter, “the master says James had better begin arithmetic -at school.” - -“I am going to the village to-morrow, and will get him a slate and a -book.” - -“There’s a slate in the house, only it has no frame, but make that do, -and instead of a slate get him a large book to set down his sums in. He -writes so well and makes such handsome figures, he will make it look -nice to show at the committee examination.” - -When Peter told James, the latter said he could make a slate frame -himself, and did, of curled maple. Fondness for mechanical work grew -upon James daily, and engrossed a portion of the time that had before -been devoted to study. Peter had mechanical ability, and could make -whatever he fancied. Not so, however, with Bertie, and thus an abundant -opportunity was furnished to James to supply his friend. James made for -him a sled, a crossbow, and a wheelbarrow, grandfather making the wheel; -but James could hit nearer the mark with a stone, than Bertie could with -his crossbow. - -James now mingled freely with the other boys in their amusements at -recess, and between schools; that is, he did not thus do every day. For -some days he would not leave his seat, being inclined to study, but -mingled with them sufficiently to produce the best of feeling, and -distanced them all in lifting or pitching quoits, but in regard to -wrestling,—a sport of which they never seemed to tire or get enough,—he -was merely an interested spectator. One Saturday afternoon Peter said to -him,— - -“James, you do everything else us boys do, why don’t you wrestle?” - -“Because I don’t know how.” - -“Well, learn then, we all had to.” - -“It seems to me I have got enough to learn that is of more value than -wrestling, besides I am the largest boy in school. How it would look to -have some little fellow like George Wood, or Chuck Witham, lay me on my -back, and what a row it would make; if some of the larger boys did it -that would be another thing.” - -“Why not do as you have done in respect to reading, writing and -spelling, learn at home, wrestle with me and Bertie? We are not much, to -be sure, but I can throw most of the boys, and you can learn the locks -and trips, and how to guard and handle yourself, and then when you come -to wrestle at school you won’t be ashamed. If grandfather was not so -stiff in his legs of late years he’d take delight in learning you.” - -“Your grandfather?” - -“To be sure. Grandfather has been an awful wrestler in his time. I can -just remember when he wrestled. After you practise with us we can get -Ned Conly and Arthur Nevins to come over here and wrestle. They are -capable wrestlers, and father would wrestle with you.” - -“Does your father wrestle?” - -“I guess he does; there’s nobody can throw him, and he never was thrown. -He won’t go into a ring to wrestle at a raising or at a town meeting -now, because my mother don’t want him to, but grandfather told me that -was not all the reason, because mother was never willing he should go -into a ring, but he always would. Grandfather says it is because he -feels he’s getting a little old, and is afraid some young man would get -the better of him, and that he don’t blame him for not running that -risk, after he had held the ring for years against three towns, fetch on -who they would.” - -“Does everybody wrestle here?” - -“Everybody who thinks anything of themselves; everybody but the women -and the minister, and they look on. They say the minister is a -first-rate wrestler, and sometimes tries a fall in his back yard with -friends who come to see him. A man who can’t wrestle, is thought very -little of in these parts.” - -“Is that so?” - -“Yes, ask grandfather, or ask the schoolmaster. He’s a good wrestler. -Come, I’ll get Bertie, and we’ll begin to-night.” - -“I can’t begin to-night.” - -“Why not?” - -“Because it’s most night now and the chores are to be done.” - -“I’ll call Bertie, and we’ll soon do ‘em.” - -“Then I can’t, because it is Saturday night, and I want to look over the -lesson for Monday morning and get my catechism.” - -“Will you Monday night?” - -“Yes, if your father don’t want me to do something.” - -The boys took very good care that their father should not set James to -doing anything, and after the chores were done they went into the barn -floor. - -James took hold of Bertie first, but he was so strong and his arms were -so long, that Bertie could not get near enough to trip or move him in -the least, James stiffening his arms and holding him off while Bertie -twisted and wriggled like an eel on the end of a spear. - -On the other hand James could not throw Bertie, because he was afraid of -hurting him, else he might have either twitched him down or have lifted -him bodily from the floor and taken his feet from under him at any -moment. - -“That’s no way to wrestle, you great giant,” cried Bertie. - -“I told you I didn’t know how.” - -“But you must slack up your arms and give me some chance. How do you -think I am ever going to throw you if you won’t let me get near you?” - -“I don’t mean you shall; folks don’t wrestle to get thrown, do they? -Your grandfather didn’t.” - -“But you must give me some chance to get at you or you’ll never learn. -How could two men wrestle if one was in the barn and the other in the -house; or one here, and the other in Philadelphia? We might as well be.” - -Peter flinging himself upon the hay, rolled over and over convulsed with -laughter, crying,— - -“I’ll bet on James, he’ll hold the ring I’ll be bound, I mean to call -grandfather to see the fun.” - -“If you do I’ll not try to wrestle again,” said James. - -James gradually yielded to the exhortations of Bertie, and permitted him -to come near enough to push him over the floor, and it was not long -after the wily boy got him to lift his feet till he tripped and threw -him. - -“There, you see how I did that, now do the same by me.” - -“I shall hurt you.” - -“That’s my look-out.” - -It was not long before James got thrown again, but he was all the while -gaining knowledge and watching the operations of his opponent, and at -last gave Bertie a fair fall. James was evidently much pleased, and -Bertie not less so. The former who at first had been dragged into the -sport by the influence of his friends, began to take great interest in -it, mastered the trips, and locks, and feints, without resorting to main -strength, and at length made such progress that Bertie could no longer -throw him. - -He now began to wrestle with Peter, when he passed through the same -experience, being thrown at first, but kept improving till at length -Peter could but seldom get him down. Edward Conly and the Nevins boys -now came over, and he wrestled with them, beginning now to wrestle at -the back, in which mode of wrestling he excelled them all, as in that -practice strength, a stiff back and capacity to endure punishment, avail -more than agility and sleight. - -A small plot of level ground before the schoolhouse, free from stones, -and covered with long moss, where the boys were wont to wrestle, was now -bare of snow. A wrestling match was got up, and had not been long in -progress before Bertie persuaded James to enter the ring. The instant he -entered, William Morse stepped in as his antagonist. - -The castigation administered by James had never ceased to rankle, and he -had not the least doubt but the opportunity had come for revenge, or at -least to mortify his enemy before the whole school. - -“Won’t he get terribly mistaken?” whispered Bertie to Arthur Nevins. - -“He thinks he’s taking hold of a green redemptioner.” - -They had scarcely placed themselves in position, till he was thrown. Red -as a fire brick, and burning with shame,—for a great shout greeted the -victory of James,—he took hold only to be again thrown. David Riggs then -stepped in with the same result. - -The boys then clamored to Orcutt to take his turn, but he declined. -Edward Conly came in and was thrown, and after him Arthur Nevins, who -threw James after a short struggle. James was now as eager to wrestle as -he had been backward before, and wrestled every day till there were but -two, Edward Conly and Arthur Nevins, who could throw him at arm’s -length, and no one could throw him at the back. It was quite wonderful -to notice the change imparted to his whole bearing by these exercises; -before he was stiff and awkward in all his movements, but now he was -lithe, graceful, his step was lighter and more elastic, and smiles had -taken the place of the despondent look he formerly wore, insomuch that -it was a matter of common remark in the neighborhood. - - - - - CHAPTER XIV. - RESENTING A BASE PROPOSAL. - - -The ground was now getting bare fast, and baseball began to be in order, -and James must learn that. Peter brought a ball to school and James soon -mastered the game in the simple method in which it was then played, and -bore no more honorable appellation than that of “knock-up and catch.” - -“How many things a boy has to learn,” said Bertie to Peter as they were -going home from school after playing ball for the first time. “I didn’t -think a boy had so many things to learn till we began to teach James.” - -“Because we had to teach James right along, but we were years about it -ourselves. We spread it all over.” - -“There’s only one more thing I want James to do, then I shall be -satisfied. Ned Conly says master is going to have a spelling school and -invite scholars from the other districts, and I want to persuade James -to spell, and if he’ll only spell more words than William Morse, Orcutt -and Dave Riggs, I shall sit down contented and perfectly happy, and let -things take their course.” - -“You are a revengeful little viper, brother of mine, did you know it? -You can’t forget the blow on the head Morse gave you.” - -“It is not that. I wouldn’t have you think it is that, but I want James -to beat those three boys who have done all they could to injure him, and -out of pure malice because that seems what ought to take place.” - -“Well, I shouldn’t wonder if he did, for they are three about as poor -spellers of their age as there are in school.” - -Mr. Whitman bought James a large blank book, and in it he set down his -sums and printed with a pen headings beginning with capitals at the top -of the pages, and took great pains with the writing and the forms of the -figures. In addition to this he took some brass mountings from the stock -of an old fowling-piece, put them in a vice and filed them all away, and -sprinkled the filings over the headings of his pages before the ink was -dry, having also put glue in the ink to make the brass dust adhere. On -the last day of school the master passed this and the books of several -other boys around among the school committee as examples of proficiency. - -On the evening of examination day they had the spelling school, and -James out-spelled Morse, Riggs and Orcutt. Peter was fully occupied -during the spelling holding his hand over Bertie’s mouth to keep him -from saying “good” at every success of his pupil and loud enough for -everybody to hear. - -Mr. Whitman and his wife, and even grandfather attended both the -examination and the spelling school. To go out in the evening except to -a religious meeting was something that the old gentleman of late years -never had done. - -The family went home rejoicing in the success of their endeavors, and -experiencing that unalloyed happiness, the result of benefiting others; -and the term which had opened so gloomily for James, closed in triumph. - -Mr. Whitman lived some distance from the saw mill, and accordingly had a -sawpit in the door-yard where he often sawed small quantities of stuff -for wheels, harrows and other uses, and in the course of the fall and -winter the old gentleman had, when he wished to saw anything, taken -James to help him, and thus the latter had obtained considerable -practice in working with that implement. - -Mr. Whitman had in the winter, cut and hewn out some rock-maple logs, to -saw into plank for mill-wheels, and cogs, which required to be sawed -very accurately; he also had cut some red-oak for common uses, in -respect to which he was not so particular; he therefore resolved to saw -the red-oak first, and, if James proved equal to the work, to cut out -the mill-stuff afterwards. The two had worked ten days with the whipsaw, -when Mrs. Whitman said to her husband,— - -“How do you get along, sawing your stuff with James?” - -“We get along well. It has always been my way, since father has been so -lame, when I had timber of any great amount to saw, to hire Mr. John -Dunbar, give him nine shillings or two dollars sometimes a day, and -board him; but I thought as James seemed to take to handling tools, and -was a strong, tough boy, and I was going to have him for some years, I -would try and teach him, and in two days more we shall cut all the -stuff, and it will be done as well as though I had hired Dunbar, though -it has taken much longer, and made harder work for myself, and after -haying I mean to learn him to saw on top.” - -“A good whip-sawyer, husband, always commands good wages, and it will be -fitting James to get his living when he leaves you.” - -“I intend to do more for him, and must, to carry out the idea I started -with, which was to treat him, as far as fitting him to make his way in -the world is concerned, as I do my own boys; not only teach him all I -can about labor, but also give him some ideas about property, and the -value of a dollar, for a man may work his fingers off to no purpose, if -he don’t know how to take care of what he gets. - -“I have got some clear boards in the workshop, and I think I shall let -him make himself a chest of them, and give him a lock and hinges, and -handles, and paint to paint it, and then he will have something, and -some place that he can call his own.” - -“But what is the use of talking to a person about saving who has nothing -to save, and no way of getting anything; the principle can’t grow much -without the practice, and he has nothing to practice with. It seems to -me very much as if grandfather had sat in his arm-chair, and tried to -teach James to fell trees by telling him how, and James contented -himself with listening. What is the use of giving him a chest with a -lock, when, as Bertie says, all in the world he has got to lock up is -his mother’s Bible, and one sheet of paper, with the agreement you made -with him, written on it?” - -“Very well, let him put them in, and his school-books, and his Sunday -clothes; then make him up some shirts, and knit him a good lot of -stockings. There is something, not much to be sure, but enough to give -the idea of ownership. There is something of his own that he can take -with him, something quite different from the state of a workhouse boy.” - -“But you gave Peter a pair of calves; he raised them, and sold them; -Bertie has a pair of steers now, and Maria a pair of sheep. I think it -has a good effect upon them, and I don’t see why it should not upon -James.” - -Jonathan Whitman, who was never in haste to decide, and very seldom -announced his intention to do anything till his mind was fully made up, -changed the subject of conversation, and there the matter rested for -that time. - -It was not late enough to work upon the ground, and Mr. Whitman gave the -boards to James, and the old gentleman after he had cut and planed them, -assisted him in laying out his dove-tails, and by a little instruction -from him, James succeeded in making a handsome chest, and was evidently -highly gratified, although he was so reticent and singularly -constituted, that he never manifested either pleasure or gratitude, as -do more impulsive persons. George Wood was at Mr. Whitman’s just as -James was putting the last coat of paint on his chest, and James lifted -the cover and let him look inside. The boy went home and told his folks -about James’ chest. - -“Ay,” said Mr. Wood, “Jonathan puts too much confidence in that -redemptioner altogether, and now has given him a chest; no wonder the -fellow is tickled with it, for he has got something to carry his clothes -in when he gets ready to run off.” - -An event now occurred that placed the character of James in a very -strong light, and completely justified the good opinion Mr. Whitman had -formed in regard to him. - -They had just finished sowing wheat, and James, having worked very hard -till after sundown, had put up the horses and sat down upon the ground -to cool off and rest, with his back against the underpinning of the -barn, which, as the ground fell off, was raised up several feet on the -back side. Into the space thus left the hens were wont to crawl, lay, -and sometimes hatch. - -“Bertie,” said Mr. Whitman, “we don’t get near the eggs we should this -time of year. I don’t believe but the hens lay under the barn; why won’t -you look?” - -Bertie took up a short plank in the barn floor, crawled under and -crawled about; he drove one hen that was sitting from her nest; found -several nests with eggs in them, and was searching for others, when he -heard the sound of voices outside, and recognized that of James. Looking -through a hole in the rocks he saw Daniel Blaisdell, Mr. Wood’s -redemptioner, in earnest and even passionate dispute with James. -Prompted by curiosity, he crept near enough to hear the conversation, -the nature of which made him an eager listener. - -Bertie inferred from what he heard, that they had been talking some -time; that Blaisdell wanted to leave his employer by stealth, as he -could obtain plenty of work at good wages, for the next six or eight -months, whereas, at his present place, he should get only his board and -clothes, and “very mean board and beggar’s rags at that,” and wanted -James to go with him, which it seemed the former had bluntly refused to -do, as in reply to some remark of James, that Bertie was not then near -enough to hear, Blaisdell said,— - -“If you are fool enough to work for nothing, when you can get high wages -by going after them, I am not.” - -“Do you think I have no more principle, or good feeling, than to leave a -man who has treated me better than many of the people in England, I have -worked for, treat their own children; and that, too, just when he wants -me the most; who has put me in the way of learning to read, write, and -cipher, which of itself, is worth more to me, than four years’ labor at -the highest wages?” - -“He had selfish ends in it, because he thought it would pay in the long -run. It didn’t cost him much to send you to school in the winter, when -there was not much to do; and he knew it would make you smart, and -contented to work for nothing, four years.” - -“You agreed, Mr. Blaisdell, before you left England, if Mr. Wood would -pay your passage, to work on his farm three years; you have only worked -about eight months, and you want to leave him, without his knowledge, -and at the busiest time of year. Do you consider that right, Mr. -Blaisdell?” - -“Do I consider it right? To be sure I do. He knew what labor was worth -over here; I didn’t. He knew, too, that I, and hundreds like me, were -starving on the other side, and took advantage of our necessity to get -his work done for nothing. He has tried to get ahead of me all he could, -but he got hold of the wrong man. I don’t say but it would have been -different had he fed me well, clothed me decently, and showed some -consideration; but he has taken all the advantage he could of my -necessity, and now I’ll take all I can of his. There’s no law in this -country against begging, and no hanging for stealing. I’ll leave him, -and you had better go with me. Come on.” - -Bertie was so anxious to hear the answer James would make, that in his -efforts to get nearer, he displaced a stone of the wall that fell -outward, but the parties were too much occupied to notice it. The -opening, however, permitted a glance at the features of James, and -Bertie could perceive that he was both excited and irritated. At length -he said,— - -“I have nothing to complain of; but every thing to be thankful for. I -shall stay with Mr. Whitman the four years, and do all that I can; and -if after that, he should be taken sick, and become poor, and need my -help, I’ll stay with him, and try to do by him, as he has done by me.” - -“Then you must be a fool. They all said on board ship coming over, that -you was a fool, and didn’t know enough to take care of yourself, and now -I believe it. It cost Whitman about forty dollars to get you over here, -and you are going to work four years for him for that. It wouldn’t be -four coppers a day, while you can get a dollar a day now, and nine -shillings in harvest. As for your board, he won’t miss that, nor your -clothes, for they will all be made in the house.” - -Bertie saw that James was growing more and more angry every moment, but -he kept his temper down admirably, and merely said,— - -“If I were under no obligation to Mr. Whitman, I have pledged my word to -stay with him for four years. To break it would be a lie: I have never -told a lie, and I never shall.” - -“Don’t tell me that; a man must lie once in a while, especially a poor -man. There ain’t a man in the world but has lied, and you are lying when -you say that.” - -Scarcely had the words left his lips than he received a blow that sent -him headlong across the back of an ox, that lay chewing his cud near by. -An ox always rises first behind, and the startled animal jumping up, -flung Blaisdell on to his neck, and still more frightened, rising -forward, flung him from his horns, to which he clung, to the dung-heap; -and the terror of the ox communicating itself to the rest of the cattle -in the yard, they began to snort and curvet around the prostrate -intruder. - -“Be off with you, or I’ll break every bone in your carcass. It is you, -and the likes of you, who have given redemptioners a bad name, and taken -the bread out of a great many honest people’s mouths on the other side, -who might have found good homes in this country.” - -Blaisdell was a burly fellow, and ugly enough, but he had seen somewhat -of James’ strength on the passage over, and had received unmistakable -evidence that he was no longer the discouraged being who could be abused -with impunity. - -Oblivious of eggs, sitting hens, and leaving his hat full of eggs behind -him, Bertie rushed into the house, seized his father and mother, hurried -them into the parlor, and shutting the door, told them every word he had -heard, and all he had witnessed. - -“Well,” said Mrs. Whitman, turning to her husband, “you have got to the -bottom now; you have found out what is in your redemptioner, and also in -neighbor Wood’s.” - -“Now, my son,” said the father, “you must not mention this to Peter, -Maria, your grandfather, nor any one, and by all means not to James. -Will you remember what I say?” - -“Yes, father, I will; for I never had a secret to keep before, except -some boy’s nonsense.” - -“Well, then, remember you are trusted, and don’t get Will Edibean to -help you keep it.” - -“But, husband, ought you not to tell neighbor Wood?” - -“No; if the man means to run off, he’ll run. He can’t watch him all the -time.” - -“But he could lock him up nights.” - -“He would break out, or set the house on fire.” - -“But, perhaps if he knew, he would treat him better. You think he don’t -treat him very kindly?” - -“That wouldn’t keep him. He wants money every Saturday night to get -liquor with. I am not going to be mixed up with it, nor have James mixed -up with it. I’ll warrant you’ll not hear a lisp from him.” - -The next morning, about ten o’clock, Mr. Wood came in, much excited, -saying,— - -“Good morning, Jonathan. I’ve found out what’s in my redemptioner. He’s -run off, and stolen one of my horses, and the other horse is lame, and I -want one of yours to go after him. I’m glad now I didn’t lay out any -more on him.” - -“You are welcome to the horse, and I’ll go with you, if you wish; but, -he’s not worth his board. If I could get the horse, I would let the man -go about his business.” - -“I won’t. I’ll get a writ for him, and give him his choice, to go back -to work, or go to jail. I want to punish him, and I want you to go with -me.” - -The second day of the quest they found the horse feeding beside the -road, with the bridle under his feet, but could get no trace of the man. - -It was near planting time. Mr. Whitman, the previous fall, had ploughed -under a heavy crop of clover, and in the spring sowed the ground to -wheat, with the exception of a quarter of an acre, that he had reserved -to plant. - -He then said to James,— - -[Illustration: “SCARCELY HAD THE WORDS LEFT HIS LIPS THAN HE RECEIVED A -BLOW THAT SENT HIM HEADLONG ACROSS THE BACK OF AN OX.” Page 198.] - -“I’ll give you the use of this land. You may take the team; haul all the -dressing on it that is necessary, and plant it with potatoes; take care -of them through the summer, dig them in the fall, sell them, and have -the money; but you must pay me for the seed, or return me in the fall as -many potatoes as you plant. When you come to hoe them, you can have the -horse to plough amongst them. You must keep the ground clear of weeds; -if you do not, I shall hoe the potatoes, and then you will lose the -crop. You may plant them, and put on the dressing, in my time, but you -must hoe them at odd chances that you will find plenty of before -breakfast, while the horses are eating, at noon, and after supper, and -father will instruct you about planting them.” - -By the old gentleman’s direction he put on a large quantity of dressing, -and then advised him, as the land was in such good heart, and abundantly -dressed beside, to plant his potatoes in drills, as he would thus get -more seed on the ground. When he began to plant, Maria insisted upon -dropping the seed for him. - -Peter and Bertie had each of them a corn patch of his own, and they hoed -the three pieces in company. Sometimes James would be up at three -o’clock in the morning, to hoe among his potatoes, or in Bertie or -Peter’s corn patch, just which needed hoeing the most. - -The boys had considerable time at their disposal, some before breakfast, -some at noon while the horses were eating and resting, and also after -supper, which they had at five o’clock, as not much work was done after -that except in haying, or wheat harvest. - -This was the time chosen by grandfather to instruct James in shooting -with the rifle. James at first only manifested that fondness for a gun -common to most young people, but he soon began to feel the hidden motion -of that strange passion which throbs in the very marrow of the hunter, -and became as enthusiastic as his preceptor, who before the summer was -out, had taught him to shoot at flying game. - -Mr. Whitman, while Walter Conly was boarding at his house, had engaged -him to help him, from hoeing time till after wheat harvest, and to his -great surprise, James, after a few days’ practice, did nearly as much as -Conly; after the first two days he kept up with them both, hoed as many -hills, and as well as they did. In mowing, he could not get along as -fast, but cut his grass _well_, but after he had pitched hay three days, -he could put more hay on the cart or the mow by one half, than Conly -could, and do his best. - -The most importance was attached to the wheat harvest. There were no -reaping machines then; all was done with the sickle and cradle, and in -reaping, James distanced the whole of them, for in that work he was at -home. - -Mr. Whitman and Conly were tying up some grain, beside a piece of -potatoes, when the schoolmaster observed,— - -“I never in my life saw so handsome a piece of potatoes as that.” - -“Those are not my potatoes. I have none half as good as them.” - -“Whose are they?” - -“They belong to James. I told him he might have all he could raise on -that piece of ground. He had my father for counsellor, both in respect -to the quantity of dressing, and the method of planting, and by the -looks, I think he could not have had a better one. In that respect James -is different from any boy I ever saw; he has not a particle of conceit -about him; is always willing to take advice, and generally asks it.” - -“There is not much danger of your redemptioner’s leaving you, at least -not till after the potatoes are dug, and they are never known to leave -in the fall, as then they begin to think of winter quarters.” - -“I took the boy, not to benefit myself, but to help him, and I am -willing he should go when he can do better; but I know very well that he -is better with me than he can be away from me, and therefore I try to -make him contented and happy. I gave him the use of this land because I -have noticed that since he has obtained some notion of time, knows how -many days there are in a month, and how many months in a year, that he -will sometimes say: ‘A year is a good while,’ and perhaps when he -remembers that he has agreed to stay here four years, it seems to him -like being bound for a life-time. But now when he has a crop in the -ground to take up his attention all summer, the proceeds in the fall, to -put in his chest, and look at in the winter, and another crop to look -forward to in the spring, it will shorten time up wonderfully. He’ll -forget all about being a redemptioner; won’t feel that he is working -just to pay up old scores, and he’ll be more contented. I know I should; -besides it will teach him to lay up, and put life right into him.” - -“I think it has put life into him, for he works just as though he was -working on a wager all the time.” - - - - - CHAPTER XV. - SOMETHING TO PUT IN THE CHEST. - - -That night as Mr. Whitman, accompanied by Peter and Bertie, reached the -door-step, they were met by George Wood who said their mare had broken -her leg, and they were going to kill her, that she had a colt four days -old, and his father would sell it for a dollar. - -“Father,” shouted Bertie, “won’t you let James have it, and keep it for -him till it is grown up? You know Peter and I have each of us a yoke of -steers, and James ought to have something. Will you, father?” - -“James has no dollar to pay for a colt.” - -“I’ll lend it to him, and he can pay me when he sells his potatoes.” - -“But how do you know he wants a colt? Perhaps he had rather have the -dollar.” - -“Oh! I know he does, of course he does; you know how much he thinks of a -horse, father, there’s nothing he loves like a horse. He’s got no father -nor mother, nor brother nor sister, and it will be something for him to -love just like a brother. He’s out to the barn, I’ll ask him, and if he -says he wants him will you let him keep him?” - -“He won’t say so, if he wants him ever so much, but you have a sort of -freemasonry by which you reach each other’s thoughts, and if you think -he would like very much to have him and pay a dollar for him, you may -get him.” - -It is to be presumed that James wanted the colt; for when work was done, -Peter, Bertie and Maria all got into the wagon that was half filled with -straw, and in the edge of the evening brought home the colt. - -James watched his opportunity, and taking Mrs. Whitman aside, said,— - -“I don’t think Mr. Whitman ought to keep this colt for me, it is doing -too much for such as me. It takes a good deal to keep a horse.” - -“That don’t amount to anything, James; we’ve hay enough, and pasture -enough; there’s no market here for hay and we want to eat it up on the -place, and we never shall miss what that little creature eats.” - -“But by-and-by he will eat as much as the other horses.” - -“Then you can sell him or let us use him, it will be handy to have a -spare horse to use when the others are at work, and to go to market or -to mill with.” - -“I am afraid Mr. Whitman will think I asked for him, and can never be -satisfied. I was out to the barn, when Bertie came running, and asked me -if I should like such a little thing to make a pet of, and I said ‘I am -sure I should,’ and away he went; he didn’t tell me he had asked his -father to keep it for me, and the next thing I knew they came with the -colt, and said it was mine and that their father would keep it for me.” - -“Husband wanted you to have it, he knew just what Bertie would do when -he went to the barn; you have never had any home, and we want you to -feel that this is your home. Husband wants you to have this little colt -because he thinks it will make you happy, and by-and-by it will be worth -considerable to you, and you can see it grow, and we shall never feel -the difference.” - -“It will make me happy, for I do love horses, I think they are nearer to -us than other creatures, and I shall love this little fellow like a -brother, but I want you to tell Peter and Bertie not to ask their father -for any more things for me. I am afraid Mr. Whitman will think I put ‘em -up to ask.” - -“Why, James, he loves to give you things. They did not ask him to send -you to school, nor to give you boards to make your chest, nor to let you -have that piece of ground to plant, it came out of his own head and -heart; he is just the best man that ever was in this world, and the -children take after him, and he takes after his father. Grandfather is -getting a little childish sometimes now, but he is the best old -gentleman that ever was, and a real treasure.” - -It was so dark when the boys got the colt home, that they could not have -a fair view of him, but the next morning the children were all at the -barn by sunrise, and their mother with them, to give him his breakfast. - -“Isn’t he a beauty?” said Bertie. “Mr. Wood says, when he comes to his -color he’ll be a chestnut, same as Frank, mother. He’s a real good -breed, Mr. Wood and I traced it out; he’s half-brother to Frank and -perhaps he’ll be just like Frank.” - -The mother had been injured four days, and the Wood boys had taught the -colt to drink milk by putting a finger in his mouth and his mouth in the -milk. - -“Mother,” said Peter, “Mr. Wood has brought up a great many colts by -hand, and he said that they ought to be fed a little at a time and -often, to do right well. James nor we can’t come from the field to feed -him, Maria can’t do it because she’s at school all day. What shall we -do?” - -“I’ll feed him twice in the forenoon and twice in the afternoon, a -little at a time and often is the way, and then you and James can feed -him morning, noon and night.” - -After a few days’ feeding with her fingers, Mrs. Whitman nailed a teat -made of rags and leather to the bottom of the trough, and the colt would -suck that. All she had to do then was to pour the milk into the trough. - -No one could have witnessed without emotion the wealth of affection -lavished upon that colt by James. Much as he loved the children there -was always a little feeling of restraint, and a little distance -pervading their intercourse on his part. Bertie and Maria would put -their arms around his neck and hug him, but he never returned their -caresses. - -Not so, however, in regard to the colt, the only pet he ever had, the -only live thing that had ever called out the childhood feelings and -sympathies of his nature so long dormant, and which they now fastened -upon and clung to in their entire strength and freshness. - -In the morning, before the rest were stirring, he would fondle and talk -to it by the half hour. As the little creature grew stronger and -playful, and could lick meal and eat potatoes and bread, James would put -bread in his waistcoat pocket and lie down on the barn floor, sometimes -he would put there maple sugar, then the colt, smelling the delicacies, -would root them out with his nose, and as he became earnest get down on -his knees and lick the lining of the pocket, and turn it out to get the -sugar. - -Just back of the house was a piece of grass ground extremely fertile, -with a great willow in the centre of it. An acre of this was fenced and -reserved for a pasture in which to turn the horses to bait when work -pressed, and it was important to have them near at hand. In this pasture -James put the colt when he was old enough to feed, and there he would -frisk and caper and roll and try to act out the horse, and when tired -lie under the great willow, stretched out at full length as though he -was dead or sound asleep. Whenever James came in sight he would cry for -him, and when the other horses came in from work there would be a vocal -concert vigorously sustained on both sides. - -“Poor little thing,” said Bert, “he’s lonesome, why don’t you turn him -into the pasture with the other horses? He wants somebody to talk with -him that can understand his language. I would, James.” - -“I’m afraid to, he won’t know any better than to run right up to them, -and they will bite or kick him; perhaps they’ll all take after him, get -him into a ring and pen him in the corner of the fence and kill him.” - -“Put one of ‘em in his place, and let us see what they will do.” - -They turned old Frank in, the colt ran right up and began to smell of -him. Frank smelt of the colt, seemed glad to meet, and did not offer to -bite or kick him. Frank was just from work, hungry and wanted to feed, -but the colt wouldn’t let him, kept thrusting his nose in Frank’s face -and bothering him, when the old horse gave him a nip, taking the larger -portion of the colt’s neck into his great mouth. The little creature -screamed with pain and ran off, but soon came back and began feeding -close by, just as Frank did, the latter taking no further notice of him. - -“They’ll do well enough,” said Mr. Whitman, who was looking on. “Frank -won’t hurt him, he was only teaching him manners, you can leave ‘em -together.” - -They eventually became great friends, and after they had fed to the full -would stand in the corner of the fence or under the willows, the colt -nestled under Frank’s breast, and the latter with his head over the -colt’s back. - -The colt would follow James like a dog; and sometimes when Frank would -take a notion not to be caught James would call the colt to him and -start for the barn, and the old horse would follow them right into the -stable. - -Mr. Whitman had an offer for wheat at a high price, and kept Mr. Conly -and hired another man (as he had two barn floors) to help thresh, -threshing being then all done with the flail, or else the grain was -trampled out by cattle. The evenings were now getting to be quite long. -James therefore began to study, and Mr. Conly assisted him and heard him -recite. This was a golden opportunity for James, and he made the most of -it. While devoting every leisure moment to study, James was not -unmindful of his crop, there was not a weed to be seen among his -potatoes, and I should not dare to say how many times the fingers of -James and Bertie and Maria had been thrust into the hills on a voyage of -discovery, and their conclusions, as reported by Maria to her mother, -were most satisfactory. The soil indeed was full of great cracks, caused -by the growth and crowding of the potatoes. - -When Mr. Whitman found that Mr. Conly was disposed to assist James, and -that James fully appreciated the privilege, he so arranged his work as -to afford him every possible opportunity, and the boys were ever ready -to take an additional burden upon themselves for the same purpose. One -evening Arthur Nevins came in to see the boys, and said he had been to -the mill that day and saw a notice posted up that Calvin Barker was -buying potatoes for a starch mill, and would pay cash and a fair price -for first-rate potatoes sound and sorted, no cut ones. Potatoes were -cheap, there was not much of a market for them, and the traders would -pay but part cash and the rest in goods. - -“Now is your chance, James,” said the grandfather, “you want the money -and don’t want goods.” - -They brought only seventeen cents per bushel, but there were one hundred -and sixteen bushels and a half, and after returning a bushel and one -half to Mr. Whitman to replace the seed received of him, and paying -Bertie for the colt, James had eighteen dollars and fifty cents left. In -addition to this were several bushels of small and cut potatoes that he -put in the cellar to give the colt. - -Barker paid James in silver, and after reaching home he piled the coins -up on the table and gazed at them with a sort of stupid wonder. Never -before had he at one time possessed more than two shillings, seldom -that,—more frequently a few pennies for holding a horse, opening a gate, -or doing some errand for the men in the glass-house, and he counted them -over and over. - -James now knew the value of a dollar in theory, how many cents there -were in a dollar, and how many mills in a cent; and yet he had little -more conception of its practical value than a red Indian, for he had not -received any wages nor bought anything above the value of a penny loaf -or a bit of cheese. At length, looking up wistfully in the face of Mr. -Whitman, he asked,— - -“How much would all these dollars buy?” - -“According to what you might buy. They would buy a good deal of some -articles and not much of others; they would buy about twenty-four -bushels of wheat and thirty of corn, but they would not buy a great deal -of coffee, or indigo, or broadcloth, or silk.” - -“I’d buy a gun and lots of powder and shot,” said Bertie. - -“Would it buy any land, Mr. Whitman?” - -“Yes.” - -“How much?” - -“That would depend upon circumstances. In the western part of Ohio, of -wild land, one hundred and eighty acres—more than half as much as I have -got here.” - -“O my! how much is an acre? I know what the arithmetic says, one hundred -and sixty square poles. But how big a piece is it?” - -“That little pasture where the colt is measures about an acre. One of -those dollars would buy ten pieces of land as big as that pasture out -there; but you must recollect it is wild land, all woods, no house, no -road: you have to cut the trees down before you can grow anything on -it.” - -“I know grandfather has told me ‘twas just so once where this house -stands. But would it buy any land here?” - -“Yes, it will buy an acre, buy two, perhaps three of some land; of most -land it would not buy one.” - -“It would buy a yoke of little steers, and quite a lot of sheep.” - -“But why don’t you buy a gun? You love to shoot,” said Bertie. - -“I mean to save my money to buy land.” - -“That’s right, James,” said grandfather, “then you will have something -under your feet that will last as long as you will, and longer, too. Not -that I would say that it don’t pay a man who can shoot to buy a gun; but -every thing in its place.” - -James had now something to put in his chest, and went up stairs to -deposit the money there. When he came back Mr. Conly explained to him -the source of values, and told him that land became valuable by being -settled, made accessible by roads, productive of crops and cattle, and -by mills being built to grind the grain and manufacture the timber. - -“When I go trading, James, I’ll take you with me, and then you will -learn the prices of things, and after a while I’ll send you to trade as -I often do Peter and Bertie,” said Mr. Whitman. - -Mr. Whitman now said to James and his sons,— - -“I think I shall turn out about two acres of the field to pasture, and -take in as much more of woodland. I can get the land cleared and fenced -with logs by giving the first crop; but if you three boys wish to take -the job, I’ll give you the crop for three years; but you must keep the -sprouts down and the fire-weed and pigeon-weed, and you may keep the -ground you now have the use of two years more.” - -They all said they would do it. - -“That,” said Peter, “will be to become backwoodsmen, and do just what -grandfather did, and we’ll make a chopping bee.” - -“No, we won’t; we’ll do it ourselves. If we are to be beholden to the -neighbors, I won’t have anything to do with it. I should be ashamed if -we three could not do what your grandfather when he was young would have -done alone, and not thought it a hard task either,” said James. - -“So I say,” replied Bertie, “do it ourselves.” - -“But how shall we find out how to do it quickest, and to the best -advantage?” said James. - -“Father will show us,” said Peter. - -“Here sits a venerable gentleman,” said Bertie, making a magnificent -gesture in the direction of his grandparent, “who can show us better -than father.” - -Bertie was prone to be grandiloquent at times, and he had just been -reading Patrick Henry’s celebrated speech, and committing it to memory. -He then asked his grandfather what time of the year was the best to do -it. - -“The best time to do it is in June, because then the stumps will bleed -freely and be less likely to sprout, and the leaves will draw the sap -out of the bodies of the trees and dry them, so that they will burn -better, and the leaves will dry and help to burn them; but you can’t do -it then, because it will be right in hoeing time; you will have to do it -after harvest, and let it lie over till the next summer.” - -“Then,” said James, “we shall not get any crop, not even the second -year.” - -“You will get a crop into the ground the second year, and harvest it the -third, though you may get a crop the second year, but in the meantime -you will keep the ground you have now and be getting something from -that. If it should prove a dry summer you could burn it in June of the -second year, and sow it with spring rye or barley, and if you get a good -burn, an extra burn, you might venture to put in corn, for a crop comes -along master fast on a burn, the hot ashes start it right along.” - -“I don’t think,” said James, “we had better try to burn it till after -wheat harvest, as we shall have the other pieces, and it would interfere -so seriously with Mr. Whitman’s work, that if he was willing I shouldn’t -be.” - -The old gentleman now told James there was another way in which he might -earn something for himself; he might shoot the coons that would be -getting into the corn in the moonlight nights, and when there was no -moon he might tree them with the dog, and shoot them by torchlight, and -the hatters at the village would buy the skins. There was a pond in the -pasture where there were plenty of muskrats. - -“How do you get the muskrats?” - -“This time of year set traps in the edge of the water for them; in the -winter they make houses among the flags at the edge of the pond and go -to sleep like flies, then you can catch ‘em in their houses. You can now -shoot very well with a rifle, and if it was not for going to school you -might in the winter get a wolf or a bear; a wolf’s pelt would bring two -dollars, but a good bearskin would bring twenty, more than all the -potatoes you worked so hard to raise. But no doubt you might trap a fox -or two, and their skins bring a good price.” - -“But where should I get a trap?” - -“Come along with me.” - -The old gentleman took James into the chamber over the workshop and -opened a chest, in which were traps of all sizes and adapted to catch -different animals, from a mink to a wolf or bears; there were but two of -the latter but great numbers of the others, all clean and oiled, and in -excellent order. He then opened a closet in which were chains to fasten -the traps to prevent the animals from taking them away, and clogs, and -broad chisels on long handles. The latter, the old gentleman told him, -were ice chisels to cut ice around the beaver lodges in the winter. - -“When I was younger, I used to leave Jonathan and the other boys to take -care at home in the winter, and I and old Vincent Maddox used to take a -hoss each, and traps, and rifles, and go over the Ohio river and trap -and hunt sometimes till planting time, and sometimes I took one of my -own boys. It’s a kind of pleasure to me to clean up the old traps, and -repair ‘em, and look ‘em over, brings back old times, though I never -expect to use ‘em much more ‘cept perhaps to take a fox or an otter.” - -“Did Mr. Whitman use to go with you?” - -“No, Jonathan never took much to such things. He’s all for farming, but -my William, who’s settled in the wilderness on the Monongahela, was full -of it from the crown of his head to the sole of his foot. He’s a chip of -the old block. But Jonathan is right, farming pays the best now; but in -those days if you raised anything there was no market for what you could -not eat, and trapping and hunting, and killing Indians for the bounty on -their scalps were all the ways to get a dollar.” - -Peter and Bertie liked well enough to watch for and kill coons in the -corn or on the trees for a few hours in pleasant moonlight nights, but -did not possess that innate hunter’s spirit that reconciled them -patiently to bear hunger, cold and watching to circumvent their game; -but James did, and his former life of poverty, hunger and outdoor -exposure with but scanty clothing had rendered him almost insensible to -cold and wet, and he embraced every opportunity that was offered him to -shoot or trap. Besides coons and muskrats, he shot, on the bait afforded -by a dead sheep, two silver-gray foxes, and caught one cross fox and two -silver-grays in traps that the old gentleman told him how to set. His -greatest exploit and one that elicited the praises of grandfather, was -in the latter part of winter, trapping an otter, that brought him twelve -dollars. - -The elder Whitman instructed him in the right methods of stretching and -curing the skins, and sent them to Philadelphia to a fur dealer with -whom he had dealt a great many years, and James received for what he -took alone, and half of those he obtained in company with Peter and -Bertie, sixty-eight dollars. - - - - - CHAPTER XVI. - A YEAR OF HAPPINESS. - - -The success of James in trapping did by no means overshadow his love for -the soil, neither did it lead him to neglect his studies, nor cool his -affection for the colt. A quart of oats every night, and potatoes, -Sunday morning, with plenty of hay, made the animal grow finely. - -This winter James so excelled in writing that the master employed him to -set the copies. Everything passed along pleasantly in the school; James -mingled freely with the scholars in their diversions, and even Morse, -Riggs, and Orcutt forgot the old grudge, or pretended they had. He -likewise so far conquered his reserve as to spend a sociable evening -where he was invited; went through the arithmetic, and took surveying by -the advice of the old gentleman, who told him it would put many a dollar -in his pocket if he could run land, and he could in no other way get it -so easily, especially if he ever went into a newly settled place. - -In short, it was the happiest winter James had ever passed; time seemed -to take to itself wings, and he could hardly realize it was March when -March came. - -As the time for work upon the land drew near, James said to Mr. -Whitman,— - -“I don’t think you need to hire a man this summer; the boys are some -older. I have got the run of the work, and have learned to cradle grain -as well as to reap. I think we can do the work.” - -“It is poor economy to have barely help enough to get along, providing -the weather is just what you would wish. I shall plough less, and dress -heavier than I have done; that will leave less ground to go over. I -think we can get along till hay and wheat harvest, then I will hire -George Kendrick; he can spread, rake, build the loads of hay, tie up -grain, and reap a little; he’s but a boy, and won’t want much wages.” - -Although they could not set to work upon their new land till autumn, the -boys were teasing their father to go and measure it, and their -grandfather said it was a pleasant day, and he would go with them. - -When the boys came to see how large a piece of land was contained in a -measure of two acres, and how near together the trees were, their -courage cooled a little. - -“If we are to cut all these trees,” said James, “snow will fly before we -get half done.” - -“You haven’t got to cut half of ‘em clear off. If I was twenty years -younger I could fall the whole and lop off the large limbs, and burn and -pile it in eight weeks.” - -When the time came to clear their land, the old gentleman went with -them, and spotted a great oak with long spreading limbs. - -“That’s the _driver_; that’s not to be cut yet.” - -He then spotted a great number of trees in a line before it, and in a -space as wide as the branches of the great tree extended. He then -directed the boys to cut the tree nearest the drive-tree nearly off, and -the next ones less, and the next less still, till the outside ones -received only a few blows. - -While the boys were at work, the old gentleman began leisurely to chop -into the great tree, sitting down to rest when he liked, till he had cut -it as nearly off as was safe. This occupied him the greater part of the -forenoon, and, seating himself in the sun, he slept till James shouted -that they had cut all the spotted trees. - -“Then come here, all of you.” - -The great oak stood at the summit of gently descending ground. Directly -before it was a clump of enormous pines, which the boys had been -directed to chop into till they stood tottering to a fall, and before -them were some large hemlocks and sugar-trees that had been cut half -off, and below these smaller trees that had received but a few blows of -the axe. - -All were now assembled at the foot of the oak. A few well-directed -strokes from the old gentleman’s axe, it began to nod, and small, dead -limbs to fall from it; then came a short, sharp crack. Slowly it -toppled, and seemed but to touch the trunks of the tall pines that stood -seventy feet to a limb, when down they went with a tremendous roar upon -the hemlocks, and the whole avalanche, smoking and cracking, plunged -right down the descent into the mixed growth below: leaves, limbs, and -bark flew high into the air, a wide lane was opened through the forest, -as when a discharge of grape ploughs through a column of infantry; the -very earth shook with the concussion, and the sunlight broke in where it -had not shone for a hundred years. - -Bertie leaped upon the trunk of the great oak, and swinging his hat, -shouted,— - -“Hoorah, grandfather, you know how to do it, don’t you?” - -“I should be a dull scholar if I didn’t, considering how much experience -and practice I’ve had.” - -Scores of trees were prostrated, some torn up by the roots, others shorn -of their branches, and sure to die when scorched by the clearing fire, -others broken off at various heights. The trees broken off or stripped -of their branches were not cut down, as, casting no shade, they did not -interfere with the crop, but were left to rot down. - -Finding the labor so much less than they had anticipated, the boys set -to work with resolution, and before the ground froze, cut the trees, -lopped the larger branches, and cleared up the work of the season. James -raised three bushels of potatoes more than the previous year, and -obtained two cents a bushel more for them of the same buyer. - -The Whitmans all possessed musical ability. Mr. Whitman and his wife -sang in the choir till they were married; and the children, though they -had received no training, and could not read music, all sang by rote; -and soon after school began, Bertie made a new discovery. One of the -cows that he milked had spells of holding up her milk, and caused much -inconvenience. - -“I’ll swap cows with you, Bertie,” said James; “you milk my old -line-back, and I’ll milk the black cow; perhaps she’ll give down her -milk better to me.” - -The black cow after this gave down her milk, which was for some time a -great puzzle to Bertie and Peter, although their parents said it was -because James milked faster, and it was easier to the cow. - -James was the first to rise, and generally had his cows nearly milked by -the time the rest got into the yard, and was ready either to work among -his potatoes or to sit down to study till breakfast was ready, and the -black cow was always milked before Bertie got along. - -Bert imagined James had some method of charming the cow, and resolved to -find out, so getting up before light he hid himself in the barn. -By-and-by James came out and sitting down to the cow leaned his head -against her and began to sing an old folk ditty to make a cow give down -her milk, and Bertie’s quick ear discovered to his astonishment that -James had both an ear and most excellent voice for singing, though so -great was his diffidence and power of concealment that no one of the -family had ever suspected it before. Bertie told his father and mother. - -“If that is so,” said Mrs. Whitman, “let us get Walter Conly to keep a -singing school this winter, and let James and our children go, we need -better music in the church, most of the choir have sung out.” - -When snow came they harnessed up the colt in a most singular vehicle -called a drag, made of rough poles, the shafts and runners being made of -the same pole. The harness they made of straw rope, which James, who had -been taught at the workhouse, showed them how to twist with an -instrument that he made, called a throw-crook. It was made of a crooked -piece of wood bent at one end and a swivel in the other end by which he -fastened it to his waist, and turned it with one hand, while one of the -boys attached the straw and walked backwards as it twisted. He told them -great use was made of these ropes in England to bind loads of hay and -grain, and to secure stacks of grain. They braided the straw to make the -saddle, and twisted hickory withes for bit and bridle. They put Bertie -and Maria on the sled and the docile creature drew them to the -schoolhouse with some help; there he was fastened in the sun beneath the -lee of the woods and fed. - -When school was done at night the creature, colt-like, and limber as an -eel, had twisted round, gnawed off the straw halter, then the -shoulder-strap, which permitted the traces to fall, and then being freed -from the drag he rubbed against the tree to which he had been fastened -till he broke the girth and freed himself from the saddle; and ended by -devouring the whole harness, except the bridle, even to the reins. - -“Oh, you little monkey,” cried Bertie, “if I had given you that straw at -home you would have turned up your nose at it. How do you think Maria is -going to get home? She won’t bake you any more corn cakes nor give you -any more sweet apples.” - -The snow was quite deep; they put Maria on the drag, James and Peter and -the Wood boys hauled the drag, and Bertie led the colt after the -vehicle. They made another straw harness, but took care to fasten him -with a leather halter and hitch him short. - -The inhabitants of the district and the scholars were so much attached -to Mr. Conly that they assessed themselves to keep the school that was -out in February through March, Mr. Whitman offering to board him the -entire month. The days were so long that James found much time to work -in the shop, both before and after school. Mr. Whitman was making a pair -of wheels, tongue and axle-tree for one of his neighbors, and finding -how much progress James had made in handling tools, availed himself of -his help. When the job was finished, James, with some aid from Mr. -Whitman, made an axle-tree, wheels and shafts, with which to break the -colt. He had just put the finishing stroke to his work by boring the -linchpin holes, and sitting down upon the axle-tree and contemplating -it, he said,— - -“There, I have done all I know how to do to those wheels; I don’t know -whether they’ll run off or on, but I hope they will answer the purpose.” - -The old gentleman was in the shop making a grain cradle, he viewed the -work, took off the wheels, measured the shoulder, and the taper of the -ends of the axle, and said,— - -“I call that a good piece of work, and I believe those wheels will run -true as a die; you have learned something since Jonathan brought you to -our door two years ago last fall; you couldn’t have made a sled stake -then and made it right.” - -“Indeed I have, grandfather, and I owe it to you, and I have often -wondered that you should take so much pains with a strange boy, and as -you may say an outcast, with neither kith nor kin.” - -“I have tried to teach you some things, and chiefly those that would put -you in the way of getting your bread in this country, and the things -that I knew by experience to be both necessary and profitable to a young -man going to take up land, which is the best, safest, and in my -judgment, the happiest venture here. I have spent a great many hours -teaching you to handle a rifle, for though playing with a gun is just -time thrown away in an old settlement where there is nothing to shoot -but sparrows and robins, my family would have often gone without a meal -had it not been for my rifle; and the money that bought the greater part -of this farm came by trapping and hunting. If I could not have handled -tools I must have gone without cart or plough or harrow, for I had no -money to buy, and must have gone nine miles to borrow. - -“But there is one thing more necessary for you than anything I have ever -tried to teach you, and I cannot teach it, I wish I could.” - -“What is that, grandfather?” - -“The grace of God, something that cannot be learned as you can learn to -line and cut the shoulder of an axle-tree to make the wheel run true, or -to work out a sum at school, and yet it is by all odds more necessary -than any and all of the things you have learned here.” - -“But you never told me anything about this before.” - -“Perhaps you think it strange that when I have taken so much pains from -the time you came here to teach you other things, and so many other -things, that I have never said anything about that.” - -“Yes, grandfather, I do.” - -“It was because I didn’t think the time had come for me to speak. I knew -you were becoming acquainted with the Scriptures, that you heard the -gospel faithfully preached every Sabbath, and that you would not then -have understood my talk, but now you know what I mean, do you not?” - -“You mean what you prayed, that Peter and Bertie and Maria and I might -have, this morning at family prayers. But how can I get it? If neither -the schoolmaster nor you can teach me, and I can’t learn it myself, how -am I going to get it?” - -“Beg for it. When a man has nothing to buy bread with, and can’t work, -he must beg. Get it where I got mine, on your knees.” - -“But the minister says folks must feel that they are sinners, and -confess their sins and ask forgiveness in the name of the Saviour. I -don’t feel that way; don’t feel that I have got anything to confess.” - -“You don’t?” - -“No, sir. I can’t confess that I have lied, or sworn, got drunk, or -stolen, or broken the Sabbath, or cheated anybody, because I never have. -I know I am not bad, like the workhouse boys I was brought up with, nor -like some folks here, and I never go to bed or get up but I say the -Lord’s prayer.” - -“What makes you say in the Lord’s prayer ‘forgive us our sins,’ if you -have no sins to be forgiven; and what sense was there in putting it in -the Lord’s prayer, that was made for the whole world, and you among the -rest, if you have no sin?” - -“I don’t know.” - -“The reason you don’t feel that you have anything to confess is that you -don’t know what’s inside of you. Everybody is the same way by nature. I -used to be.” - -“What must I do then?” - -“Ask the Lord to send His spirit to show yourself, and if He does, you -will see need enough to ask pardon. I hope you’ll think about it, James, -for I never was so set upon anything as I am upon this. It is not an -affair of the moment with me. I have had it in my mind from the first -spring you were here till now, and it has grown upon me of late, because -within the last six months I have begun to feel that I have not much -longer to tarry here. I don’t think I shall see the leaves fall again.” - -The tears sprang into the eyes of James. He exclaimed,— - -“Grandfather, don’t talk so; I can’t bear to hear you talk in that way. -You will live a good many years to make us all happy.” - -“That’s impossible according to the course of nature. I have lived to -see all my children settled and making a good living, and what is more, -giving evidence of grace, though Jonathan and Alice have not as yet seen -their way clear to come forward, and I am ready to go; but I would like -to see you and Peter, Bertie and Maria, rejoicing in the Lord.” - -This conversation affected James as had nothing else in the course of -his life. He loved and revered the old gentleman, and though he was -aware of his great age yet the idea of parting with him had never -crossed his mind, and when at night he repeated the Lord’s prayer as -usual, the words “forgive us our sins” were fraught with a new meaning. -He resolved to search the scriptures and find out if he was a sinner or -not. - -A few days after this one half-holiday Bertie came into the shop and -hung around, sat upon the bench and whittled, a thing quite unusual, as -he had no desire to handle tools, and was seldom in the shop except -James or Peter was making something for him, at length he said,— - -“Grandpa, I want you to pray for me.” - -“My child, I have done that ever since you were born, but what makes you -ask me now? How do you feel?” - -“I don’t know, I never felt as I have these last two days. I want to be -good. Mother says I am a good boy and so does father and the -schoolmaster, but I know I am not good the way the Bible calls good.” - -“My dear boy, it is the blessed spirit that is showing you your heart. -We must both pray, for in these things one cannot take another’s place. -Tomorrow is the Sabbath day and I hope you will find pardon through the -Saviour, and that it will be the happiest Sabbath you ever spent. How -came you to turn your thoughts that way?” - -“I was hurrying to get my part of the chores done before school time -when these thoughts came into my mind just like a flash, and they won’t -go away.” - -After meeting on the next Sabbath, as the minister, Mr. Redman, came to -shake hands with the old gentleman as he always did, the former said,— - -“Mr. Redman, if I were you at the close of the meeting to-night I would -ask any persons who felt disposed to converse on religious subjects to -tarry.” - -“I don’t believe there would a single person stop. Never during my -ministry here have I seen the people as thoughtless, and Christians -themselves so indifferent; it is one to his farm and another to his -merchandise.” - -“Didn’t you notice how full the meeting has been to-day and how -attentive the people were?” - -“The pleasant Sabbath after several stormy ones accounts for the full -attendance, and our people usually give good attention. But what leads -you to think there is any special interest among the people?” - -“The Lord has told me so.” - -Mr. Redman looked anxiously into the face of his Elder, fearing that his -mind was enfeebled, but in the clear eye and compressed lips and earnest -expression of his features he saw nothing to confirm his suspicions, and -replied,— - -“Although I perceive not the least reason for doing as you desire, I -will reflect upon it and if when we meet to-night you are of the same -opinion, I’ll certainly do it.” - -“Will you mix a little prayer with your reflections?” - -“I will.” - -When Mr. Redman got home he related the affair to his wife, and inquired -if she thought there was any more thoughtfulness than usual among the -females of the parish. - -“In my opinion there was never less, but I would do as Elder Whitman -requests.” - -“He is a very old man and may be in his dotage. I am afraid it would -seem ridiculous and do more harm than good.” - -“He has the clearest head of any man in this parish to-day, and is more -likely to know the mind of the Lord than anybody else, and I know never -would say what he did to you without a solid reason.” - -Mr. Redman, a nervous person, greatly puzzled and agitated by what he -considered an unreasonable request, was unable to fix his mind upon any -definite topic of remark, and went to the meeting with very slight -preparation. - -He was surprised to find the house was filled and Mr. Whitman of the -same opinion, which served to increase his agitation, and after a few, -as he felt, incoherent remarks threw the meeting open and sat down. - -Mr. Whitman instantly got up and said,— - -“I am an old man, about the oldest among you. I feel that I have been an -unprofitable servant and that, profitable or unprofitable, I am almost -at my journey’s end, but this is no time to depart. I would not die in -such a dead state of the church and people of God as this. My neighbors, -you must wake up, and wake up to-night. I must go and I want to carry -better tidings than it is possible to carry now. Can I face my Master, -and yours, and tell him that the wise and the foolish are slumbering -together, and that the seed his servant sows rots in the furrow because -it is not watered with the prayers of the church, and because Christian -people are more concerned to train their children to get a living than -they are to save their souls?” - -He went on for half an hour, and when he sat down there were three or -four on their feet together, for his words went through the people like -an electric shock. - -At the close of the meeting Mr. Redman gave the notice and more than -half of the assembly stopped. Among them was Walter Conly the -schoolmaster, his brother Edward, and sister Emily; Will Orcutt who had -come home from Reading on a visit, and his brother George; Arthur and -Elmer Nevins, John and William Edibean, and the Wood boys, Jane Gifford, -Martha Kendrick; many heads of families, Lunt the miller and Samuel -Dorset the drover. Mr. Whitman and his wife, Peter and Maria, remained, -but the grandfather saw Bertie and James go out. It gave the good old -man a heartache, and he said within himself,— - -“God’s ways are not our ways, His will be done.” - -That night after the old gentleman had retired to rest, Bertie crept to -his bedside and said,— - -“Grandfather, the reason I did not stop to-night was I didn’t want to -talk with anybody only you, but I have prayed to God a great many times, -and asked him to take me for his child, and make me just what he wants -me to be, and somehow I feel as though he hears me.” - -“Would you be ashamed to have your father and mother know how you feel?” - -“I shouldn’t be ashamed to have the whole school know I am trying to be -good and be a Christian.” - -A week passed away, and the old gentleman found no opportunity to talk -with James, as he was busy out of doors, and did not come into the shop, -but on Saturday evening as the former was sitting in his bedroom, James -entered and said,— - -“Grandfather, I have done what you wished me to, and I have been -studying the New Testament to find out what sin is and whether I am a -sinner.” - -“What did you find there?” - -“I found that sin is the transgression of the law; that it is not doing -this or that, but having a wrong principle, and that I had a wrong -principle, and so there was not a bit of good in me. When I came to -cipher the thing right out, I saw that it was not because it was a sin -against God that I didn’t do as the rest in the workhouse did, but -because Mr. Holmes told me not to, and that Mr. Holmes was my God all -the while.” - -“Ah! you’ve got to the bottom of it now, my boy.” - -“But why did not Mr. Holmes tell me about my being a sinner, and about -pardon through the Saviour, as you have, and as Mr. Redman does?” - -“Because Mr. Holmes was not only a good man, but a man of sense, all -good men don’t have common sense. You were a child then, and he did not -mean to burden your mind with things that, not understanding, you would -forget, but he knew if he told you not to lie, steal nor swear, and -taught you the commandments, that you would know what that meant, and he -put the idea of God in your mind. He knew that you loved him and would -do as you promised him you would, and that if you kept clear of those -sins it would keep your conscience alive, and that if you said the -Lord’s prayer it would give you the idea of going to God, and though you -might not understand it would finally have its effect, and as you grew -older that influence would grow stronger.” - -The religious interest increased not only there, but extended to other -towns in the county, and was part of that wonderful religious movement -called “The Great Awakening” that pervaded Kentucky, was more or less -felt in every state then in the Union, and which provided Christian -pioneers for the new settlements constantly forming. - - - - - CHAPTER XVII. - REDEMPTION YEAR. - - -It was now planting time. James, this year, planted his patch with corn, -as he had planted it with potatoes two years, and the boys planted -potatoes. The weather proved very dry and so favorable for farm work -that the planting and sowing were finished much earlier than usual. - -“Now, boys,” said Mr. Whitman, “if you handle yourselves, you can burn -your lot over and plant corn before hoeing comes on: and, after harvest, -you can knock the sprouts from the stumps and kill the fire-weeds.” - -They put in the fire, and got an excellent burn. - -They now determined to make a log-rolling and invite the neighbors, far -and near, to come with axes and oxen to cut and roll and twitch the -unburnt logs into great piles to be set on fire and burned entirely up. -The old gentleman was busily at work in the shop, when Maria came -running in, and said,— - -“Grandpa! George Orcutt is coming up the road, and he looks as though he -was coming here.” - -“I hope he is; and if he turns up here, you tell him the men-folks are -all in the field, except me, and that I am at work in the shop.” - -In a few moments George came in, and was received very cordially by the -old gentleman. George said his father had broken one of the glasses in -his specs, and as he was about the age of Mr. Jonathan, but some older, -he might have a pair that he did not use, that he would lend him till he -could get another pair. He said that William was coming, but he had an -errand at Mr. Wood’s, and told his folks he would do the errand. - -“There are glasses enough in the house. I don’t use ‘em; but I have got -two pair that were my father’s. Jonathan has got two pair, and Alice has -a pair that she don’t use much of any now. I was glad to see that you -stopped awhile ago after meeting. I trust you have found the hope you -sought then?” - -“No, Mr. Whitman, I have not; there’s a thing stands right in the middle -of the road, and blocks the whole road up.” - -“What is that?” - -“You know, I suppose, what happened at school?” - -“Have you any hardness against James?” - -“No, sir; and I have told the Lord I am sorry, and asked his -forgiveness; but that is not satisfactory, and I don’t feel that it is -any use for me to go to my Maker till I have forgiveness of James, but I -don’t know how to bring it about.” - -“I’ll fix it for you; it is only about half an hour to supper time; -you’ll stop and take supper with us?” - -“I dread to go into the house.” - -“Never be afraid to do right, because you will have help. But, before -you go in, I want to show you some things James has made.” - -The old gentleman showed him a wheelbarrow and crossbow he had made for -Bertie, and the wheels and shafts he had made to break the colt in, and -told him that James had made himself a nice chest, dovetailed it -together, and painted it. - -“Come, let us go into the house and find the specs.” - -Mrs. Whitman received George in so kindly a manner that it relieved him -of much of his embarrassment. - -The old gentleman told Maria, when she went to call the men-folks to -supper, to tell her father that George Orcutt was in the house and would -stop to supper. - -“Boys,” said Mr. Whitman, “George Orcutt is in the house; I suppose you -can guess what has brought him here. He will feel embarrassed enough, no -doubt, and I want you all to shake hands with him as if you meant it, -and receive him as though nothing had happened, and as you did when he -used to come here.” - -“I am sure I will,” said Bertie; and so they all said, and did -accordingly; but the grandfather excelled them all, for, as soon as they -had shaken hands with George and talked a little, the former said, -“James, I’ve been showing George your cart, and have told him about your -chest. Why won’t you take him upstairs and let him see it?” - -They went upstairs together. - -“I think we had better sit down to the table,” said Mr. Whitman; “they -will feel better to find us eating than they will to find us all sitting -here still, and have to look us in the face when they come down.” - -Before James and George came down, the boys and their father had eaten -their supper and gone out, leaving James and George to eat together. - -There were traces of tears on the cheeks of the latter, but he looked -happy and as though a great load was lifted from his heart, and felt so -much relieved that the boys persuaded him to pass the night with them. -In the course of the evening he told Bertie that David Riggs and William -Morse, who had also stopped at the meeting on the Sabbath succeeding the -one upon which he stopped, felt as he did, and wanted to do likewise, -but did not know how to bring it about. The four friends talked the -matter over, and it was resolved to invite David and William to the -log-rolling and the supper afterwards, and George was commissioned to -invite and come with them. - -The day was set, the neighbors responded to the summons, the logs were -piled and burnt, and great numbers of the smaller stumps torn out by -main force and flung on the piles. David, William and George were among -the first on the ground, David bringing four oxen and George and William -a yoke each. Before they parted harmony was restored between them and -James and Peter and Bertie. - -The boys were very solicitous that their grandfather should go out and -look at the burn but he was not able. The good old man had been failing -since the approach of hot weather and could only work a little while in -the garden in the morning; and at evening and during the greater part of -the time dozed in his chair. In the midst of wheat harvest there came a -week of extremely sultry weather which affected him very sensibly, and -as Mrs. Whitman was passing through the room where the old gentleman sat -asleep in his chair, she was alarmed by the extreme paleness of his -features, went to the chair and found him unconscious. She summoned her -husband and children, who were near by reaping, but when they reached -the house he was no more. A well-spent life had ceased without a -struggle. His death, though not unexpected, threw a gloom over that -happy family that not even the assurance of his preparedness could -dissipate, and that yielded only to the soothing hand of time. - -James, to whom he had stood in the place of a parent, was so affected -that for several weeks he could speak of nothing else. Mr. Whitman now -conducted family prayers as his father had done, and in a few weeks -himself and wife, James and the children, united with the church. As the -result of the singing school there was formed a new choir, which Peter, -Bertie, and James joined, also Emily Conly, Jane Gifford, Sarah Evans, -Maria Whitman, and Prudence Orcutt. - -When the boys came to harvest their corn they found an opportunity to -sell it in the ear to an agent who was buying corn and shelling it at -the mill with a machine that was moved by water-power, and shared -forty-nine dollars and fifty cents each. James also obtained eighteen -dollars and some cents for that raised on the same piece that he had -before planted with potatoes. - -The season throughout had been dry and held so, the boys therefore took -the oxen, pulled out all the roots the oxen could start by means of -their help, and with the axe cut down all the stubs that had been broken -off and left. There were also a great many logs that were too green to -burn and had been piled up around the stumps; these they hauled together -and then setting fire to the corn stubble made a clean burn of weeds, -sprouts and logs, feeding the fire till the whole was consumed and a -good seed bed made for another year. - -Edward Conly kept the school in the winter and everything passed off -pleasantly. James was now, as one of the choir, brought to the choir -meetings, mingled with the girls as he had never done before, and was -even induced by Bertie and Edward Conly to speak a piece and take part -in a dialogue at a school exhibition. - -The boys resolved this spring (as they had cleared their burn so -thoroughly) to plough it a few inches deep and sow it with rye. It was -hard work for the cattle, and as they stopped to breathe them, Bertie -cried out, in his abrupt fashion,— - -“Look here, James; by the time this grain comes off, or not long after, -your time will be out, your four years.” - -After reflecting a moment, James replied,— - -“So they will. Can it be that four years are gone already?” - -“What are you going to do about the next crop after this? Father -promised us three crops; I don’t suppose he thought anything about the -time.” - -“I’ll give it to you and Peter.” - -“We’ll buy it of you,” said Peter. - -“You are not going away,” said Bertie. “What is the use to talk about -that. This is your home just as much as it is ours; we won’t let you go, -will we, Pete?” - -“Of course we won’t.” - -“Father,” said Bertie, at dinner, “do you know that James’ time is out -next fall?” - -“Yes.” - -“But you said he and we might have three crops off that burn. If he goes -away he’ll lose his crop.” - -“He won’t go away. I’ll hire him and let him have his crop to boot. I -suppose he’ll work for me, won’t you, James?” - -“Work for you, Mr. Whitman. I’ll gladly work for you a year without -wages, and then I shall be altogether in your debt, for coming here has -been my salvation, both for soul and body.” - -“You are worth more to me than any man I can hire, and I shall hire you, -and pay you all you are worth. Whatever I have done for you I have -received back, and more, too, in relief from the care and anxiety of -looking up help at critical periods, and in having the best of help, and -also in feeling that I had a man in whom I could place confidence, whom -the children could love, and who would not teach them any bad habits. -More especially do I think of how much father loved you, and only a few -days before his death he said to me,— - -“‘Jonathan, James’ time will be out next year; don’t lose sight of him -when I am gone, and be kind to him for my sake.” - -So far was Mr. Whitman from forgetting when James’ time was out, that -early in the spring he had written to his brother William, telling him -about James, and how much they were all attached to him; that under the -instruction of his father he had become a good shot with a rifle, had -learned a little of trapping, and to travel on snow-shoes. He then asked -him to take him with him a winter trapping, as he was anxious to earn -money to buy land. - -He received a letter from his brother saying that he would willingly -take James, more especially as a Seneca Indian, with whom he had trapped -two winters, was dead. That he need bring no traps, except, perhaps, a -few small ones, nor lead, nor powder, as these articles could be -procured at Pittsburg, nor blankets, for they had enough; and to come on -horseback, as he had plenty of hay and grain, for which there was no -market, and that he would meet him at Pittsburg the last week in October -or the first in November. - -Mr. Whitman put the letter in his pocket, and said nothing about it at -the time. - -When the rye came off they shared twenty dollars each, after returning -two bushels to Mr. Whitman. - -It was now the twenty-seventh of September, the corn and grain were -harvested, and the potatoes nearly dug. It was in the evening, cool -enough to render a fire comfortable, and the boys were seated around the -hearth, mute, and evidently expectant. - -Mr. Whitman went into his bedroom, and returning with a letter in his -hand, said,— - -“James, you have honorably fulfilled the agreement made with me four -years ago, and are now your own man, and to-morrow we will pass -receipts. Of course you now want to earn all you can. I know that the -desire to own a piece of land and call it your own is eating you up. -Bertie says you talk about it in your sleep, and I want to put you in -the way of getting it.” - -He then told James of the letter he had received from his brother, and -put it in his hand. When James had read the letter, he said,— - -“There is nothing I so much desire as to own a piece of land. Working -out by the month on a farm is a very slow way of getting money to buy it -with, as in the winter a man can earn but little more than his board, -and the winters are long here; in England the plough goes every month in -the year. I should like very much to go.” - -“Trapping is a poor business to follow, but a very good resort for a -young man who wants to obtain something to give him a start. You can go -out there, trap till April, and if you are commonly successful can earn -more than you could in a whole farming season, and get back in time for -farm work, when I will hire you for the rest of the season, and you and -the boys can raise another crop on your burnt land.” - -There was no time to be lost, as the journey was long, and James began -instantly to make his preparations. - -“Father,” said Bertie, “the colt is too young for such a journey with a -heavy load, it will spoil him. Why don’t you let James take old Frank? -He’ll be back by the time we want to plough, and Frank is good for -anything.” - -“I will, if you and Peter think you can part with Frank.” Mr. Whitman -gave his father’s rifle to James, a most excellent piece. He took with -him a few otter and beaver traps, pork, bread, and also a camp kettle, -as he calculated to kill game, and camp where taverns were not -convenient. - -“Where are James and Bertie?” said Mr. Whitman, the night before James -was to set out. - -“They have gone over to Mr. Conly’s,” said Peter. - -“James has been over there two evenings this week. I should think if he -is going in the morning he would want to be at home this evening.” - -“He thinks a great deal of Edward Conly, and I believe Walter is -expected home to-night.” - -“I guess,” said Maria, “that it’s not Edward nor Walter, but Emily whom -he thinks the most of, for he went home from meeting with her last -Sunday night, and he never went home with anybody before. I don’t -believe but what Bert knows.” - -“If he does he won’t blab it all round,” said Peter. - -James took with him flint, steel and tinder, fish-hooks and lines, and -one blanket, and provender for Frank. - -He started off with the good wishes of all the household. Bertie put his -arms round old Frank’s neck and told him to remember that he had a -character to sustain, and not to stumble on the mountains. The old -roadster bent down his head, rubbed his nose on the shoulder of his -young friend and seemed to signify, I will. - -Uncle Nathan Kendrick, an old trapper, not far from the age of the -deceased grandfather, had given James a rough draft of the roads, with -the names of the streams, fords, and towns, the localities of the public -houses and log taverns, and the distances, and the places where grass -and water were to be found, and that were good camping grounds. - -In the meanwhile the object of all this solicitude rode on, crossed the -Susquehannah at Harris Ferry, and found a good tavern, where he put up. -The next morning he started on, fed his horse on grass and provender, -buying provender at the farm-houses for the horse and what little he -required for himself, as he shot or trapped most of his provision. At -night he camped early, and after he left the older settlements behind, -he built a brush camp every night and put Frank into it to protect him -from the wolves, building his fire in front. - -He found no difficulty in regard to living. When he stopped to bait at -noon on the banks of the Yellow Breeches Creek, he shot a wild turkey, -and had a sumptuous dinner. At Falling Spring he caught muskrats and -snared a partridge, and caught fish in the Conococheague Creek; on the -top of the North Mountain he found a log tavern, where he obtained -provender and camped; from thence, crossing the Alleghanies, he came to -Laurel Hill and Chestnut Ridge. This ridge was covered with a heavy -growth of chestnut trees, mixed with oaks, which rendered it a resort -for wild turkeys, coons and deer, and in the openings was an abundance -of sweet grass for the horse. Here he camped two days to rest the horse -after the fatigue of climbing the mountains, and while there he shot a -deer and trapped two minks. - -James now found himself within about two miles of Pittsburg village, -then an assemblage of log houses, having some trade in furs and by -flat-boats down the river with New Orleans, Ohio and Kentucky; also some -trade by pack-horses with Baltimore and by water carriage by way of the -Kiskiminetas Creek and by portage. - -Frank had not been in a stable since leaving Harristown. It was near -sundown, the wood was too thick for grass to grow, and James resolved to -put up at some farm-house and give him a good baiting of hay. - -Seeing a log house, the logs of which were hewn on the sides and chinked -with lime mortar, a large barn and good breadth of land cleared, he made -application and received a cordial welcome from the farmer, a Scotchman. -His family consisted of a wife and three children, with all the -necessaries of life in abundance. When the evening meal was over, he -called the family together for prayers, and, according to the Scotch -custom, read a hymn, and finding that James sang, they all, even to the -children, united in praising God. - -James had now the opportunity to clean his horse thoroughly from dust -and sweat, and feed him bountifully. Aside from his attachment to a good -horse, he knew that Mr. Whitman would never have let anybody else have -him, and was therefore very anxious to bring him through in good shape, -and nothing could exceed the pains he had taken with him on the road, -the result being that he was in excellent flesh and spirits, and showed -no signs of a hard journey. - -James was much disappointed next morning, when he rode into Pittsburg, -at the mean appearance of the village, having heard so much of the -conflicts around Duquesne. He found most of the houses built of logs, -some of round logs, others two-story and the logs hewn, one brick house -and a few stone, some good frame houses, and a church built of hewn -timber, but plenty of public-houses. - - - - - CHAPTER XVIII. - WILLIAM WHITMAN. - - -James was proceeding leisurely along the street bordering on the river, -called Front Street, when, as he approached a log tavern where a great -number of teams were standing, his horse was suddenly caught by the -bridle, and upon looking up, he was confronted by one of the -finest-looking men he thought he had ever met, and who, extending his -hand, exclaimed,— - -“Is this James Renfew?” - -James replied in the affirmative, as he clasped the offered hand of the -stranger, and returned his hearty grasp. - -“I am William Whitman, and I knew old Frank the instant I set eyes on -him. How are you, old playmate?” patting Frank’s neck. “He’s just my -age; twenty-five years old last April, the tenth. Frank and I are one -year’s children. How smooth he looks; young as a colt. You’ll have a -good time here, old fellow, this winter, plenty to eat and nothing to -do.” - -“Ah! there’s father’s old rifle,” laying his hand on the weapon, that -lay across the forward part of the saddle. “Oh! what a good father he -was to us, and brought us all up in the right way. I know in reason he -is better off, and that we must all die, but the old rifle brings -everything back,—all the old days when he used to teach me to shoot -under the old chestnut. Father did not know how old that tree was. How -long have you lived with my brother?” - -“Four years.” - -“And you have lived right among them all that time, and was there when -my father died?” - -“Yes, sir; your father taught me to work with tools, and to shoot, and -trap, and could not rest till he brought me and Peter, Bertie and Maria, -to pray to God, and then he died.” - -“You don’t know how glad I am to see you, and how glad Mary will be to -see somebody right from home. I suppose you knew my wife was Bradford -Conly’s daughter?” - -“Yes, sir; I went to school to Walter two winters; and Edward Conly was -the last person except your brother’s folks that I shook hands with.” - -William Whitman went for his horse, and they set forth; the road, very -good for a few miles, soon became a mere bridle path between spotted -trees. Clearings were sparse, and consisted of a few acres, the houses -were built of round logs, the roofs covered with splints hollowed like a -gouge, two laid hollow side up, and a rider rounded so that the edges of -it turned into the hollows of the under ones, was placed on top, like -the tiles of a West Indian house. - -“I am taking you to a rough place by a rough road, but we shall be -comfortable and find something to keep soul and body together when we -get there.” - -They now came in sight of the Monongahela and to some high bottom land -of about six acres, smooth, bare of trees and covered with a thick sward -of grass, in which was a young orchard, and in the midst of the orchard -stood a house built of logs, the tops and bottom hewn, and the chimney -of brick laid in lime mortar, and the bottom logs of the house were -underpinned with stone and the stones pointed with lime mortar. The -windows were small but glazed and fitted with bullet-proof shutters, and -the roof covered with pine shingles nailed. There was also a good frame -barn and a corn crib of round logs. Besides this natural meadow, about -ten acres had been cleared of forest, part of which had that season been -planted with corn and sown with wheat, and about three acres were -already green with winter rye, the remainder was in grass. The house -stood at a slight elbow in the stream, and thus commanded a view of the -river in both directions. Mr. Whitman told James it was about three -miles to where the river Youghiogheny came in. - -“We are a rough-handed people here, Mr. Renfew, have forgotten what -little breeding we ever had, but we can give you a hearty welcome,” said -William as they dismounted, and fastening the horses, he led the way to -the house. - -“Mary,” he said to his wife who met them at the door with a babe in her -arms, “this is Jonathan’s boy, James Renfew. I reckon he must think -about as much of him as he does of Peter or Bertie. If he didn’t, he -never would have let him have Frank to come out into this wilderness.” - -“Now, Mr. Renfew, just sit you down and talk with the woman while I see -to the horses.” - -James told Mrs. Whitman how lately he had parted with her parents and -brothers, and as Mr. Whitman just then came in, everything in relation -to the old gentleman that he thought would be interesting to them. - -Suddenly Mrs. Whitman exclaimed,— - -“Husband, what are we thinking about? Mr. Renfew has not had anything to -eat and now it is past noon.” Her husband took the child, and she soon -had biscuit in the Dutch oven and slices of venison, killed the day -before, broiling. - -“Take a seat in my wife’s rocking chair, Mr. Renfew,” pointing to a -singularly constructed affair in the corner; “you see it took three to -make that chair. The Lord found the stuff; I did a little cabinet work, -and Mary the ornamental part.” - -It was made by fitting a board into two-thirds of a hollow cedar log for -a seat, and notching into it for the arms, and slanting the back, to the -bottom, were fitted rockers. The wife had made a cushion, covered and -stuffed the arms and back, and thus made a most comfortable chair. - -The cradle was more remarkable still, being made of an entire hollow -sycamore log; this log, after being cut off the right length, was sawed -down two feet from the ends, the piece taken out leaving the rest for -the top; the ends were filled with basswood bark, pressed flat and -fastened with glue, made by boiling the tips of deer’s horns; and -rockers were put on. - -It was large enough for three babies, as a large log was taken in order -to get height sufficient for the top, but the space was filled with a -bed and stuffing. Two pewter platters, four earthen mugs, wooden plates, -spoons and bowls, all of wood, made the table furniture, and bedsteads -were made of rough poles. - -On the other hand there was a handsome loom with reeds and harness, all -in excellent order, large and little wheels and reels and cards, and -good feather beds and bedding. - -“I see you are looking at my wife’s cradle,” said William, “it was made -for the occasion, but the child is comfortable, and may be President of -the United States yet.” - -“Did you make that loom? It is very handsome.” - -“Yes, I thought as it was a thing we should always need, I would take -time and make it well. I could have made a cradle of boards, but we -needed the boards for a roof, and nails are a scarce article here. The -fact is we brought the things we most needed, and I brought my tools, -because I knew I could with them hatch up something to get along with, -and when I got time make something better. Now, Mr. Renfew,—” - -“Call me James, if you please, I shall feel more at home.” - -“Now, James, if you’ll take care of the beasts, I’ll take my rifle and -see if I can get a wild turkey, or pigeon, and then we’ll have another -chat; for to-morrow we must get ready for the woods.” - -“You may think it silly, James, but I’ll go out with you, for I want to -see and pet old Frank; nothing brings home so near as seeing him,” said -Mary. - -“That’s because I always rode him over to her father’s when I was -courting her, and she used to ride on his back, on the pillion behind -me, to singing school, huskings and all sorts of doings.” - -Away he went, humming a merry tune. While Mrs. Whitman was talking to -Frank, patting him, pulling locks of sweet hay out of the mow and giving -to him, James looked after the retreating form of her husband, who was -making the woods ring with his music, and said within himself,— - -“What a man!—far from neighbors, with three little children, -bullet-proof window shutters, five rifles and a shot-gun hanging over -the fireplace, and gay as a lark. He’s just like Bertie for all the -world; it’s just as Mrs. Whitman said, ‘If you like Bertie you’ll like -his uncle, for they are just alike.’” - -At dusk Mr. Whitman returned with a turkey and three pigeons, and after -the evening meal was partaken of and the children in bed, James asked -him how he came to think of settling where he was when there was plenty -of wild land east of the mountains, and especially as the homes both of -himself and wife were there. - -“I came up here when I was seventeen years old with uncle Nathan -Hendrick trapping, we trapped on this stream and on the Youghiogheny; -there were beaver here then,—a few,—a good many otters and foxes, and no -end to the coons; we did well and that gave me a taste for trapping. - -“When I was eighteen, father gave me my time, a good rifle, and money to -buy a good set of traps. I worked two summers on farms, and in the -winters came up here and trapped alone. Then I had fallen head over ears -in love with that girl who is jogging the cradle, and she wanted to get -married and settle down awful”—upon this he received a sound box on the -ear from his wife. “You see we wanted to get together, I had taken a -great liking to this place, couldn’t get it out of my head, used to -dream about it. I hadn’t much money but wanted considerable land, -couldn’t bear to be crowded; and this land was dog cheap. About this -time I got acquainted with a half-breed Indian, who told me there was -good trapping and hunting on the Big Beaver. I went and looked over this -land, made up my mind just exactly as to what I could do with it, saw -that I could get along faster here than anywhere else, because I could -do two things as you may say at once.” - -“What two things?” - -“I could trap and farm. I made up my mind at once and bought two hundred -acres, though it took all the money I had. I went to a blacksmith in -Pittsburg who I knew often saw the half-breed, and got him to ask him to -trap with me the next winter, and for the smith to write me, and went -home. When I got home, father had given the farm to Jonathan to take -care of him and mother. I hired with Jonathan at twenty-five dollars a -month. I worked till August and had a hundred dollars.” - -“Why didn’t you work through the season?” - -“Because I had received a letter from the smith saying that the -half-breed would trap with me, and I knew I could trust that Indian. - -“I gave forty-five dollars of my money to that woman for safe keeping -(it was an awful risk, but I did it). I borrowed a mule and a -pack-saddle of Mr. Nevins and put on him seventy-five steel traps, -powder, lead and blankets, a few tools to make dead-falls (wooden traps) -and other fixings, took old Frank, put a saddle and pillion on him and -some light things, tied the mule’s bridle to Frank’s tail, put Bertie on -the pillion, and started. The Indian had agreed to meet me at Turkey -Foot.” - -“What is Turkey Foot?” - -“Don’t you remember that just after you left Somerset you crossed a -creek with high banks?” - -“Yes.” - -“Not far from that the Yo. (Youghiogheny) splits into three forks. That -is the middle one, and the place where they divide is called Turkey -Foot, because it looks so much like one. - -“You know what that boy is; keen as a brier and smart as steel. Wasn’t -he tickled when he found he was going and where he was going; he hugged -me, kissed me, and hardly knew which end he stood on.” - -“That explains something that has puzzled me. When I got near the -crossing I found an Indian path, and Frank was so determined to follow -it that I had to strike him several times before he would give it up. I -could not imagine what it meant, for I thought I knew he had never been -there before.” - -“When we reached Turkey Foot the Indian had been there a week, and had -laid in a lot of provisions; he had the carcass of a deer hung up and -had smoked and dried the best parts of several more, and had killed and -dried a lot of wild pigeons.” - -“What did Bertie say to the Indian?” - -“Made friends with him right off; stuck to him like his shadow, Bert’s -tongue running like a mill-clapper and the Indian grunting once in a -while, but the half-breed made him a bow and arrows and a little birch, -and he went back with the two horses, about the biggest-feeling boy ever -you saw. - -“We paddled down the Yo. into this stream, and down this to Pittsburg, -got some more traps there, went down the Allegheny twenty-five miles to -Big Beaver, and up that about fifteen miles; went to trapping and -trapped till the middle of April. The Indian wanted to carry his furs to -Canada, so we made another canoe and came to Pittsburg, where I stored -my furs.” - -“Then I suppose you took the canoe, came to Turkey Foot, and from there -home?” - -“By no means. I wrote a letter, told ‘em what I had done; that I was -well; hoped they were the same; must excuse all mistakes; came here, and -went to felling trees, till the fifteenth of May; then I went eight -miles to the nearest neighbor, and got him to come with his team, and -plough up an acre of the clear land; planted it with potatoes and corn, -and sowed a little flax. I then cut all the grass that grew on the -bottom land, and in openings in the woods, made a hand-sled, hauled it -to the stack and stacked it. Then I went right into a thick place in the -woods and built a log camp; it was only fourteen feet by twelve, and -just high enough to get into, with a splint roof, a stone fireplace, no -chimney, only a hole through the roof, and no floor, but brush laid on -the ground. It had but one window, and that was made in the door; was -filled with oiled paper, and had a slide for stormy weather. Then, after -making a house for cattle, I went to chopping till the last of August, -and then went to hunting and trapping again.” - -“Did you go back to the Beaver?” - -“No, indeed; had hunting and trapping enough on the spot. I had built no -fence because I had no cattle, and the bears, deers, and coons were -determined to have my corn. Sometimes when I turned out in the morning, -I would find a moose or a deer feeding on my grass, or browsing among -the trees I had cut last. In a brook about a mile off there were a few -otters, and many minks and foxes. I bought a lot of hens and geese, on -purpose to tole the foxes, and went to trapping and shooting in good -earnest. I made a log-trap for bears and wolves, and once in a while -shot a moose or deer, and trapped otters and foxes. I had so much meat -lying round that it toled the foxes and wolves; the wolves soon drove -off the deer and moose, and then I shot the wolves on bait. Every wolf I -killed I got ten shillings bounty and his skin was worth two dollars; -and a bear’s skin from sixteen to twenty. That’s what I meant when I -said that here I could do two things at the same time. I had built a -house, raised corn, potatoes, flax, and hay enough to carry me through -the winter, felled five acres of trees, and earned by trapping and -shooting more than I had all the summer before, working for my brother, -and been at work for myself most of the time. As for the deer, bears, -and wolves, I didn’t go after them, and it did not take much time to set -the traps, and what was of no less consequence I had got a first-rate -birch. There’s nothing like a birch to a wild Indian, or a new settler.” - -“Is a birch then so valuable?” - -“Next to the Bible and the narrow axe.” - -“I don’t suppose you meant to go on to your place till spring?” - -“Didn’t. I pulled my flax and spread it to rot, put my pack, rifle and -provisions into the birch and started up-stream. I didn’t go to the -Forks where I met the half-breed, but into Sewickly Creek, and paddled -up it to within a rod of the road, hid the birch in the woods, took my -pack and started for home.” - -“That was a long hard journey.” - -“It was all that. I told this little woman what I had done, made it as -bad as I knew how; told her just what a miserable place she would have -to live in, and gave her the choice to go back with me or I would go -back alone, trap all winter and come for her in the spring, and before -another winter build a more comfortable house; and all her folks and -most of mine thought that was the best way. - -“But she wouldn’t hear a word of it, said if I could stand it, she -could; wasn’t a bit afraid, that it was the best time of the year to go -because the roads were better and the streams we would have to ford were -low; and that I ought to be on my land early in the spring to sow or -plant the ground I had ploughed. So we got married, and then the old -folks set in worse than ever for us not to go till spring, and even the -neighbors took it up, but I had one on my side and he was worth all the -rest.” - -“Who was that?” - -“Father,” said William, sinking his voice to a whisper. - -“Yes,” said Mrs. Whitman, “his opinion was worth more than all the -other’s opinions. A few nights before we set out, and when all the young -girls, my schoolmates, were pitying me and doing all they could to make -me feel worse, the good old man took me into the other room and said: -‘Mary, never you mind those young people, don’t let anything they say -jar you a particle. Listen to the old man who has been over every inch -of the road you and William are starting on. If you live to my age -you’ll look back and say that the days you spent in the brush camp were -the happiest days, for they were full of hope; but when you have lived -to my age you will have outlived all your hopes but the hope of eternal -life, and that is the best of all, because the possession will be more -than the expectation while everything else falls short. You have got a -good husband, his heart is tender as a child’s, but his mind is as firm -as a piece of the nether millstone. He’s a cheery lad, he’ll look on the -bright side, keep your heart up and his own too. You are married now and -have taken the first step, don’t look back, it didn’t work well with -Lot’s wife. I never knew it to work well with anybody, look ahead; a man -isn’t half a man and a woman isn’t half a woman who has never had any -load to carry. I take it you’ll work in an even yoke; you are both -smart, and no doubt feel that you are equal to anything, and perhaps -look down on people who have not your strength and resolution, but it is -better to look up, and the first night you get into the camp I want -William to take the Bible and read and pray, and I want you to ask him -to.’ I didn’t have to ask him.” - -“Didn’t you wish you had taken your parents’ advice before you got over -the mountains, and before you got through that first winter?” - -“By no means. We had no table only some pieces of bark set on four -stakes, driven into the ground; no bedstead, but put the beds on the -brush; we had no room for furniture, because I must have room for my -wool and flax wheels, to spin the flax William had raised and the wool I -had brought from home.” - -“Were you comfortable?” - -“I never saw so warm a place as that camp. William covered it all over -with brush outside, and the snow drifted over it; we had plenty of bear -and wolf skins, and if it had not been for the hole in the roof we -should have roasted.” - -“How did you get the wagon here,—there was no road?” - -“William got a teamster who was going to Pittsburg with four horses and -a light load to take the canoe, and it arrived in Pittsburg before we -did. We put our things, part of ‘em, in that, and we came in; the next -day he got the rest and left the wagon till winter, and then made a sled -and hauled it up the river on the ice. The river makes an excellent road -in winter for a sled and in summer for the canoe.” - -“Yes; and Providence keeps it in repair, and no road tax to work out,” -said her husband. - -James could not have been placed in a better school to learn how to cut -his way through life than with this cheerful, resolute pair in the -wilderness. - -The next morning they took the birch canoe from the barn; Whitman gummed -the seams, and they carried it to the water. Whitman held it, told James -to get in, sit down in the middle and keep still; he then got in -himself, and standing up, with one stroke of the paddle, sent the light -craft flying into the middle of the stream. James was delighted with the -movement of the buoyant craft. - -William then told him to kneel down and take the paddle while he kept -the balance, and to paddle without fear, for he would keep her on her -bottom. - -“James, you have got to learn to use this birch. Can you swim?” - -“Like a fish.” - -“Well then, take off part of your clothes and try it; for most likely -you’ll upset.” - -James crossed the stream, came back and attempted to go up stream; he -went up a little way, but in turning to come back, the birch went out -from under him, then righted, and was three times her length from him in -a moment. - -“You can’t get into her, give her a shove to me.” James gave the canoe a -little push with one hand, and the light craft spun over the water to -William, who held her while James swam ashore. - -“What queer things they are! I was in the water before I could wink.” - -“Ay, they’ll tip you out, and right themselves without a drop of water -in ‘em, and then sit and laugh at you. We must now make up our minds how -many traps we can tend. How many traps did you bring?” - -“Only twenty-five small ones.” - -“I think we ought to tend three hundred. I am going to trap on the same -ground that the Indian and I trapped on last year. My traps are there -hid under rocks. I shall get a few more. If you’ll take care of the -cattle and practise in this birch, I’ll go to Pittsburg and get the -traps, and leave ‘em there to take when we go along, and to-morrow we’ll -start.” - -James, in the course of the day, got used to the birch, and met with no -farther mishap. - -Whitman got home at dusk, and called him to supper, when he found a -young woman of twenty and a stout boy of eighteen by the name of -Montgomery. They could neither of them read or write, and were to stay -with Mrs. Whitman during the absence of her husband, and she was to -teach them to read and write. Jane Montgomery was also to weave a web of -cloth for her mother, as they were recent settlers and had as yet no -loom. The next day was spent in preparations for departure and in -putting all their things into the birch,—cooking utensils, blankets, -provisions and other matters, tools to make dead falls, and repair -camps, and snow shoes. - - - - - CHAPTER XIX. - TRAPPING. - - -They proceeded down the Monongahela to the Alleghany; down the Alleghany -to the mouth of the Big Beaver, and up that about thirty miles till they -came to a fork. Taking the easterly fork, they proceeded about three -miles till they reached another fork. Here they found a temporary camp, -which they repaired and passed the night in, collected the traps Whitman -had concealed the year before, and set them as they went up the stream, -till in the course of five miles they came to another temporary camp in -very good repair. They went on five miles more, and found another camp -that needed slight repairs. Having repaired this, they went on five -miles more, and found a camp with a bark roof, stone chimney and -fireplace. The roof and chimney needed some repairing. They passed the -night here and found more traps, which they set, and replaced some that -were worn out with new ones. They now returned, and as they went found -in the traps two beavers, four minks and one otter. This put them in -good spirits. They paddled rapidly down to the Fork, and ascended the -other streams and began to set the new traps, as this was the ground the -half-breed had trapped. In the course of five miles they came to a -temporary camp and repaired it, setting traps as they went. Here they -found stretchers for skins. At the distance of five miles they came to a -permanent log camp with a stone fireplace, chimney, and a lug pole in -the chimney to hang a kettle on. There was a window with oiled paper in -it, bark shelves, backwoods stools, and a table made of cedar-splints. -There were also bark dishes and wooden spoons and plates. This was the -main or home camp. Here they unloaded the birch and deposited all their -provisions. They made a hemlock broom, cleaned out the camp, collected -small hemlock and cedar brush for beds, heated water and washed and -scalded every thing that had need of washing; and cooked the tail of a -beaver and roasted a fish they caught in the stream for supper. - -The next morning they proceeded up stream five miles, setting traps -until they reached another temporary camp, which needed much repairing, -and did not reach the home camp till dark. After supper they sat some -time chatting and arranging their plans for the winter. - -“I can’t help thinking of the Indian; there in the corner are his arrows -and bow. If I could use them as well as he, we should get more deer meat -this winter,” said William. - -“A rifle is better than a bow.” - -“True, but we cannot fire a rifle till the stream is frozen. The beaver -is a very timid creature, and while they are running about the bank the -less noise we make the better, but the bow is a silent weapon, and in an -Indian’s hand effective.” - -Such was the divergency of the creeks that when each was at the upper -end of his line of traps they were ten miles apart, but every other -night they met at the home camp where they did most of their cooking; -the other camps were for shelter and to skin their game in and stretch -and keep the skins. - -Every Sunday they met at the home camp, and indulged in a pot of pork -and beans, and sassafras tea and Johnny-cake, baked on a flat stone, -with a slice of pork. When they had made their plans and partaken of the -supper William threw himself upon the brush, wrapped the blanket around -him, and was asleep in a moment. - -But in respect to James the situation was too novel to permit of sleep. -He went out and seated himself upon the birch, that was turned upon the -bank. It was a night of stars but moonless. He was nearly three hundred -miles from home, sixty from any village, and half that from any -habitation; no baying of dogs, rumbling of wheels, nor any of the sounds -of civilized life fell upon his ear as he reflected and listened to the -moaning of the stream as it swept past, and the sounds new and -inexplicable to him that came up on the night wind from the forest. A -strange feeling of loneliness came over him. He felt his own nothingness -as never before; the mighty forest seemed closing around and about to -crush him; and commending himself to God he also wrapped himself in his -blanket, and lay watching the flickering firelight till sleep and -fatigue overpowered him. - -Here they remained and trapped till the middle of April, and then made -up their furs. Mr. Whitman took them to Philadelphia. They divided five -hundred dollars between them, and James reached home the sixth of May. - -The Whitmans were seated at the dinner-table. During the forenoon they -had been preparing the ground to plant corn, they had been working four -horses, putting James’ colt in with Dick, in the absence of his mate. - -“Father,” said Peter, “hadn’t we better plough that piece of burnt land, -and not wait for James?” - -Mr. Whitman was about to reply, but his voice was drowned in a loud -neigh that penetrated every cranny of the dwelling, and took precedence -of all other sounds, and was instantly followed by a most vigorous -response from the four horses in the barn, in which the tones of Dick -were the most prominent. - -“It’s Frank’s voice, Frank and James!” shouted Bertie, running to the -door, followed more leisurely by all the rest. - -Great was the joy and fervent the greetings, and not less warm the -welcome bestowed upon old Frank, who, after a whole winter’s rest, had -renewed his age. - -“Take him to the stable, Bertie,” said his father, “or Dick will tear -the stall down, he wants to see his mate.” - -James was soon seated at the table, when Mr. Whitman said,— - -“Do you like that part of the state better than this, James.” - -“No, sir, it is too near the Indians.” - -“But hasn’t General Wayne settled them?” - -“Yes, sir, for a few years, perhaps; but there are a great many of them -in the country beyond the Ohio, and they will always be ready to take up -the hatchet, and certainly won’t lack provocation. Then there’s no -market but by flat boats two thousand miles down the river to New -Orleans, or by pack-horses and wagons over the mountains. If you raise -crops you can’t sell ‘em; a good cow is worth but five dollars, a horse -ten; wheat thirty cents a bushel and won’t bear transporting over the -mountains,—nothing will but whiskey. Four bushels of grain is a load for -a horse over the mountains, but he will carry twenty-four made into -whiskey.” - -“By-and-by it will be different.” - -“They hope and expect it will, but it may be a long time. Why should -anybody go where he can get land for nothing, and that is good for -nothing to him after he has got it, as he can’t sell anything from it? -It is about as broad as it is long. I have no doubt there is land this -side of the mountains, and wild land too, about as cheap, and where -crops can be got to market.” - -As no one of the family thought of questioning James as to his route, -naturally supposing that he came back by the same road over which he -went, he did not tell them that he turned off at the foot of the north -mountain, proceeded up along the west bank of the Susquehannah, crossed -it at Northumberland, and travelled for two days inspecting the country, -looking over the farms and clearings, inquiring the price of land -improved and wild, the price of cattle, grain, and opportunities for -market, and also in relation to the state of roads, and distances from -markets and the means of conveyance. - -“Boys,” said Mr. Whitman, “you may take the harnesses off the horses, -we’ll have a half holiday to talk with James, and it would be too bad to -put old Frank into the team the first day he came home.” - -It was a matter of necessity that James should (after conversing with -Mr. Whitman, and telling him all the news in regard to his brother’s -family) go directly to Mr. Conly’s, carry letters, and tell him and his -wife everything in relation to their daughter, her husband and the -grandchildren, interesting for them to know. It was, however, not -accomplished that afternoon or even in the evening, of which it consumed -a large portion, but required so many evenings that at length it began -to attract attention. - -“James goes to the Conlys a great deal. Do you think he has any -particular reason?” said Mr. Whitman to his wife. - -“I don’t know. Mr. Conly’s was the first place he ever went to; he and -Edward are great friends; always have been. The master, you know, worked -here all one summer and has always tried to help James from the start. I -think it would be strange if he didn’t go there a good deal, especially -as he goes nowhere else.” - -“I know all that, but I am of the same mind still.” - -“Bertie knows; I mean to ask him.” - -Mrs. Whitman interrogated Bertie, but though generally so communicative, -he was all at once very reticent. - -“Bertie, your father and myself are the best friends James has in the -world, and your father is able to help James if he is so minded. If -there is anything in this, you know and ought to tell us, for it will go -no farther.” - -“Well, mother, if you must know, he’s dying for Emily, and she’s dying -for him.” - -“Then why don’t he tell her so? There’s not a better girl in the -country, nor more capable.” - -“Because he imagines a host of things. He thinks because she and her -folks know all about his coming out of a workhouse, and she knows what -he was when he first came here, and how he was picked upon and scouted -at school, they must kind of look down upon him; that though they might -pity him, treat him as a friend and try to help him along, it would be -another thing if he wanted to come into the family, and even if they -didn’t care they might think other people would, and throw it up at them -that she was going with a _redemptioner_. - -“That’s all the merest nonsense, and his imagination. I go there with -him, and after a little while get up to go; then up he’ll jump and go -with me, though they ask and urge him to stop. He’ll go home from -meeting with her, and sometimes I go with them on purpose, and she’ll -ask us to go in, I’ll say I must go, and give him a punch in the ribs to -go in, but no, off he comes with me. I know by what Ed. says the old -folks would like it, and I tell him he can’t expect her to break the -ice, and would not want her to. I wish I could shut them up together, -I’d starve them to it as they do a jury.” - -“If they like each other, and it suits all round,—I know it would suit -William and his wife; he wrote a long letter to your father, and sent it -by James, in which he said everything good about James that he could -say, and has made him promise to trap with him next winter,—and if there -is nothing in the way but James’ diffidence, it will take care of -itself. There never was a man yet who liked a woman and didn’t find some -way to let her know it.” - -“Yes, mother, she may know; I expect she knows it now, but how shall she -know it enough?” - -“There will be some way provided.” - -James and the boys concluded to sow their land with wheat and grass -seed, as this was their last year, Mr. Whitman finding the grass seed. -Matters went on in their regular course till the beginning of wheat -harvest, when Mrs. Conly sent for Mrs. Whitman to come over there and -spend the afternoon, and for Mr. Whitman to come to tea. - -“I have had a letter from Mary,” said Mrs. Conly, “and she is just crazy -for me to let Emily come on with James Renfew this fall, when he goes to -trap, and come back with him in the spring, she does so long to see some -of us: and she can’t come on account of the baby, and it’s such a good -chance. I thought I never could let Emily go over the mountains. I don’t -see how I can; and I want to talk it over with you.” - -After weighing the matter all round, these sage counsellors concluded -that Mary Whitman ought in reason to be gratified; she was away there in -the woods; and it was natural that she should want to see her sister, or -some of her folks; and she was so lonely when William was away trapping. -There could be no danger from Indians, since General Wayne had chastised -them so severely. - -“I have not said a word to Emily yet. It may be that she will be afraid -to venture so far, for she never was from home a night in all her life.” - -“I think she’ll go,” said Mrs. Whitman; “she thinks so much of her -sister, and these young folks are venturesome.” - -When the matter was broached to Emily, “though she was at first,” as her -mother said, “struck all up in a heap,” yet she consented, _on her -sister’s account_, to venture. - -When Mrs. Whitman, after going home, broached the matter to James, she -feared, as the good woman told her husband, he would faint away; for he -turned as many colors as a gobbler-turkey when a red cloth is held -before him. - -As for Bertie he was in raptures. - -“Could anything be more nice, mother? How happened it to come just now?” - -“Nothing could be more natural, Bertie; Mary Whitman has been teasing -her mother ever since she was married, to let Emily come out there, and -when she found James was coming again to trap, she was just furious, and -there was no doing anything with her. - -“You must go over there with James to-night, for Mrs. Conly will want to -know about it and encourage him, for I am afraid he will appear so -diffident that Mrs. Conly, and perhaps Emily too, will think he don’t -want her to go with him, though I know better than that.” - -“If he does, mother, I’ll pull every spear of hair out of his head. Oh, -I wish it was me instead of him, I’d make my best bow, so, mother -(suiting the action to the word), and I’d say that nothing would give me -greater pleasure than to enjoy the company of Miss Conly, and that I -considered it a privilege to be the instrument of cheering Mrs. Whitman -in her loneliness.” - -“Ay, you are very brave, but if it was your own case, you might, -perhaps, be as bad as James.” - -“I don’t believe that, mother, but I mean to come home early and leave -James there if I can.” - -Bertie, however, came home before eight o’clock and with him James, who -went directly to his bedroom. The moment the door closed after James, -Bertie exclaimed,— - -“It’s all fixed, mother.” - -“What’s fixed?” - -“About her going with him. I told him what to say; he didn’t say half -what I told him, nor the way I told him, but it came to about the same -thing.” - -“If he had he would have appeared ridiculous.” - -“Why, mother?” - -“Because your manner of expressing yourself would have appeared as much -out of the way from his lips as would your head on his shoulders.” - -“I mean to tell him that the journey is his chance, and if he don’t -improve it he’ll never have another, and never ought to.” - -“You had a great deal better tell him that Emily never would have -consented to go with him, and her parents would never have let her go, -if both she and they had not reposed the utmost confidence in him, -neither would Mary Whitman have made the request; and that will -encourage him to overcome his bashfulness.” - -“Mother, how much better you can plan than I can.” - -“She has had a good deal of experience in managing men,” said Mr. -Whitman, who had been a silent, but by no means indifferent listener. - -“Husband, do you want me to box your ears?” - - - - - CHAPTER XX. - JAMES AND EMILY. - - -They set forward the first week in September. James had left everything -but his rifle and ammunition in the wilderness, and on his way home had -stopped every night at a tavern or farm-house. He therefore had nothing -to carry of any consequence, and put a pack-saddle on his colt, which -Mr. Whitman had broken in the course of the winter, and in the pockets -of the saddle put all Miss Conly’s clothes, flint and steel, provender, -pepper and salt, and mugs to drink out of, and knives and forks. Behind -the saddle of Miss Conly’s horse was strapped a round valise, in which -she carried her needles and some clothing and light articles. When the -weather was pleasant they put up only at night at the taverns, which -were generally poor; halting at noon by some stream or pleasant spot -that afforded grass for the horses. At such times James would often -shoot game and cook it on the coals, or catch a fish in the stream, and -they would lunch. - -The diffidence of James gradually wore off as he became better -acquainted with his companion and found how implicitly she relied upon -him for care and protection, but that very fact, coupled with his high -sense of honor, prevented him from giving voice to the words that were -often upon his lips, because he felt that to do this when they were -alone in the wilderness was taking an undue advantage and placing her in -an embarrassing position,—and more terrible still, should he meet with a -refusal, how awkward and constrained would be their positions going back -together, as go they must in the spring. - -He could not, however, endure the thought of going into the woods before -the matter was settled, and remaining in a state of suspense all winter. -They were now within a day’s journey of Pittsburg and James had not -effected the purpose nearest his heart. He now began to accuse himself -for having neglected on the road opportunities that would never occur -again, for at Pittsburg they would be in a crowded tavern; and at -William Whitman’s his stay would be brief, and there would occur no -opportunities so favorable as many he had suffered to pass by -unimproved. - -The sun was setting as they neared the Scotch settler’s, where James had -before been made so welcome, and Pittsburg was but two miles away. Mr. -Cameron was seated bareheaded on the door-stone with his wife, watching -the children, who were frolicking with a calf they were rearing. Hearing -the tread of horses, he looked up and instantly coming forward, said,— - -“Gude e’en, Maister Renfew, I am blythe to see you, and to find that you -like us weel eneuch to be ganging this way again.” - -“I never enjoyed myself better than I did last winter, and I am glad to -find you and your family all in good health, for I see they are all -here. This is Miss Conly, a sister to Mrs. Whitman, and is going to -spend the winter with her.” - -“I’m right glad to see baith you and the lassie, and now light ye down -and the gude wife’ll gie ye some supper in the turning of a glass, and -ye’ll spend the Sabbath wi’ us, and Monday morning ye can gang on -rejoicing,” - -“You are very kind, Mr. Cameron, but it is early and we can get to -Pittsburg before it is very late.” - -“I’ll niver consent to it. The horses are weary, so is the lassie; I ken -it by the glance of her een. Ye’ll surely not travel on the Lord’s day, -bating necessity, and the tavern at Pittsburg is no place for Christian -people on the Sabbath, for there will be brawling and fighting and -mayhap bloodshed between the flat-boat men.” - -“Take the beasts by the bridles, Donald,” said his wife, “while I put on -the kettle. What ails ye that ye dinna do it? We hae room eneuch for ten -people, let alone twa, and what’s mair a hearty welcome.” - -[Illustration: THE SCOTCH SETTLERS’ WELCOME. Page 284.] - -James could not have arranged matters so well for himself. Inwardly -rejoicing, he assisted Miss Conly to alight, and they were ushered into -the best room of the hospitable abode. While the travellers washed and -rested a little from the fatigue of a long ride, Mrs. Cameron had -prepared a backwoods supper. - -“We have had worship,” said Mr. Cameron, “before ye came, but an ye are -not too weary I wad like to sing a psalm or two; it’s seldom we hae any -one wi’ us can sing.” - -After spending an hour so pleasantly as to make James and Emily forget -the fatigue of their journey, they retired for the night. - -The evening had thus been fully occupied, and James, his courage screwed -by despair to the sticking point, had as yet found no opportunity for a -private interview. - -When Sunday morning came, Emily told Mrs. Cameron if she would like to -attend meeting with her husband, she would take care of the children and -get the meals, to which the former replied that she would gladly go, as -she seldom could leave the children, and Mr. Cameron’s brother was to -have a child christened that Sabbath. - -Thus were they left alone, with the exception of the children, who were -most of the time out of doors or in the barn. It seemed indeed a most -auspicious moment; but, although ever approximating like a moth flying -around a candle, James could not summon courage to declare himself in -broad daylight. Mr. Cameron and his wife most likely would be inclined -to sing till bedtime, and thus the opportunity that seemed at the outset -so favorable, would in all probability have resulted in disappointment -had not a fortunate circumstance prevented so untoward an occurrence. - -Mr. Cameron was to deliver a load of wheat at Pittsburg by sunrise -Monday morning, and intended to rise at twelve o’clock in order to eat, -load his grain and reach the landing in season, as it was going into a -flat-boat. - -Her husband, unsuspecting soul, thought it was the most natural thing in -life that Mrs. Whitman’s sister should come to visit her, and come with -this young man who was going right there; and was anxious even at the -expense of his rest to indulge in a psalm or two. But his shrewder -helpmeet divined that there was a feeling stronger than that of -friendship between her guests, and when supper and worship were -finished, ushered them into the best room, and begging them to excuse -herself and husband, as he was to start at one of the clock or soon -after, and she must rise at twelve to get his breakfast, left them -together. - -James found that, like many other things in life, the anticipation was -worse than the reality, and though he could not the next morning have -told the words he had uttered in that little parlor, he was very sure -that Emily Conly had promised to be his wife, provided her parents were -willing, and that he was the happiest fellow that night that the stars -looked down upon. - -They took no note of time till they heard Mrs. Cameron up stairs getting -up, and had barely opportunity to scud to their beds before she came -down stairs. - -Mr. Cameron had seen William Whitman Sunday at meeting, and notified him -of their being at his house, and when they arrived at Pittsburg they -found William, his wife, with the baby, and Jane Montgomery. It was a -joyful meeting, for the two sisters were tenderly attached to each -other. - -“James,” said William Whitman, “we’ll put everything into the birch and -get in ourselves and go home in fine style. Jane Montgomery will take -both the horses along.” - -When they had proceeded about seven miles and become a little satiated -with conversation, William struck up a tune in which they all joined, -for it was one which William and the sisters with the rest of the family -were accustomed to sing sitting on the door-step at home. Before going -into the woods James wrote to Mr. Conly and obtained the consent of the -parents on condition that he should not carry her over the Alleghenies -to live, for they could not bear to have the mountains between them and -the remaining daughter. - -They began trapping earlier this year; and abandoning the eastern branch -of the stream that had been trapped out, took the western branch and -went farther up, which necessitated the building of some new camps, but -they found more beaver, and being so much earlier upon the ground, -before the bears went into winter quarters, were enabled to kill -several; likewise found more otters, and James, having had the advantage -of a winter’s practice, was more successful, and in the spring they -divided six hundred and fifty dollars between them. - -During the journey that James made on his way back the year before to -the Susquehannah, he had been very much pleased with the beauty and -fertility of the limestone soil in the valley of that stream. -Settlements had been made there as early as 1778, but latterly a new -county had been formed, a town had been laid out just above the mouth of -Lycoming Creek that emptied into the west branch of the Susquehannah -River, and a road had been laid out to a painted post, where it struck -the road to New York. - -The Susquehannah was navigable, spring and fall, down to the Swatara, -the home of the Conlys and Whitmans, and with a birch at any time of -year. This was quite different from a market at New Orleans by water two -thousand miles away, with hostile Indians on the banks of the stream, or -by wagon road to Baltimore, and across the mountains to Philadelphia, -four horses being required to haul twenty hundred weight, and occupying -six weeks’ time. He now proposed to Emily that they should return that -way and view together that country. They found that the lands in the -valley bordering directly on the river were held very high, much above -James’ means, but that a short distance up the creek that was navigable -for small craft, land equally good could be bought for two dollars an -acre, and could be paid for in gales, as it was termed, that is, by -instalments extending to three years or even five. - -“I do not incline, Emily,” said James, “to put myself in such a position -that I must wait till I am past labor and enjoyment both, before I can -obtain sufficient to be comfortable. I think it is better to pay more -for land that is improved and nearer a market, even if you have to wait -longer in the first place, for after you once purchase you must remain -or sell at a loss.” - -The landlord of the public-house told James of two places in the -vicinity that had been improved and could be bought; one of which, he -said, was owned by proprietors, had a log house and hovel on it with -twenty acres cleared, and which they held at ten dollars an acre, one -hundred and sixty acres. - -“That,” said James, “is the asking price.” - -“They are rich and will not take less; they know land will never be -worth less on this creek.” - -The other place, he said, was a great deal better place, better land and -better location, because it was on the stream, while the other was a -back lot. It had been bought and paid for by a Mr. Chadwick, but it took -all he had to pay for the land, and having not a cent to help himself -with, and having to work part of the time for others, he could not make -much improvement, and became broken down with hard work and -discouragement, and died in the struggle the winter before; that his -widow and two little children were at her brother-in-law’s at the mouth -of the creek, and she was anxious to sell, but would only sell for cash; -that it would have been bought long before but the majority of settlers -could not pay down; he never had been on it, but believed the buildings -were not much and the lot was a hundred acres. - -“If the place is as good as you represent, and joins the land of the -proprietors, and will be sold cheap for cash, why don’t they buy it?” - -“They mean to buy it, but are holding off to get it at their own price -because she is poor, and they know she will be obliged to sell, and I -wish that somebody would come along who has the money and take it from -between their teeth.” - -“You don’t know what she asks?” - -“She did ask nine dollars; don’t know what she asks now.” - -Obtaining directions from the landlord, they set out to see the places. -After about four miles’ travel over a good road they then struck into -the woods over a road of very different character, but nevertheless a -very good one for the backwoods. The stumps were cut low to permit the -passage of wheels, many of them taken out, the large rocks removed and -the brooks and gullies bridged in some places with hewn timber, in -others with round logs or flat stones. They passed through clearings on -which were log and timber houses, some of them underpinned with stones -and pointed with lime mortar, and most of the houses built, of round -logs, were chinked with stone pointed with lime mortar, the chimneys -were all built of stone laid in lime mortar, and on most of the farms -were peach orchards. This road had been made by proprietors to increase -the value of their lands, and in dry weather was a very tolerable road -for teams; they also passed a limestone quarry, near which was a rude -kiln. - -They now reached the proprietor’s lot; a clearing of twenty acres had -been made, ten of which were in grass, the rest pasture. A timber house -of two stories, hovel built of logs, and hogsty and corncrib; the house -had three rooms on the lower floor, stone fireplace, chimney and oven -laid in lime mortar, two glazed windows in each room and in front; -between the house and the road was a peach orchard in bearing, and a hop -vine was clinging to the corner of the house. A spring in the head of a -ravine ten rods from the dwelling afforded water. - -James judged that the land was of fair quality, but broken and heavily -timbered. After examining all that portion of the lot under culture, and -the buildings, they rode on six miles farther, when they came to a very -large pine-tree, hollow, blazed, and that bore the marks of fire. This -tree had been given to James as a mark, and stood at the head of a -bridle path which they followed, and soon came in sight of the creek, -and rode through a beautiful stretch of level land, alluvial soil, and -extending along the stream. In the centre of this clearing stood a great -sugar maple, and beneath its lofty branches was nestled a diminutive -camp, built of small logs, rather poles, stuffed with moss and clay. It -was evident that stones were either not to be found upon this place or -else the occupant had not cattle to haul them, as the fireplace was made -of logs with a lining of clay, and small stones evidently water-worn and -procured from the brook. - -A large branch had been torn from the tree by the wind, and falling on -the roof and chimney that was made of sticks coated with clay, had -crushed in both roof and chimney. Within ten feet of the door a -beautiful spring was bubbling out from beneath the spur roots of the -maple. The hovel was much larger and higher than the dwelling, which -would not have admitted a horse, being too low, and boasted a good bark -roof; it was of sufficient size to contain six head of cattle and -considerable hay. - -It was already far past noon and they sat down by the spring to quench -their thirst, bait their horses and partake of a luncheon. - -“It is,” said James, “idle for us to think any more of the other place -at present, as it is beyond my means, and I will not run in debt, my -only object in looking at it was to compare prices. It is possible this -place may not do, but there is not time to examine as thoroughly as I -should like, we will go back and come again to-morrow.” - -They returned again next morning in such season as to have the greater -part of the day before them, and after a thorough examination, James -said,— - -“This place is worth two of the other for any poor man to get his living -on, and I know if it will come within my means it is the place for me. -What do you think of it. Do you feel as though you could ever make it -feel like home?” - -“My home will be where my husband finds it for his interest to be, and -there shall I be content and happy, provided I can have sheep and cows, -and flax, and spinning and weaving enough to do, that I may carry my -part of the load in the way mother brought me up from childhood. But, to -tell the truth, I should not have to try very hard to like this place, -for it is the sweetest spot I ever saw.” - -“I like the place, but must be governed entirely by the possibility of -being able to pay for it and to get my living from it afterwards.” - -“I can’t help feeling a little sad as I sit by this spring of which they -drank, look upon that roof that once sheltered them, now all fallen in, -and recollect that they came here no doubt building castles in the air -as you and I do, and full of hope as we are, thinking what they would -do; and then the husband was taken sick and, as the landlord expressed -it, died in the struggle for a homestead.” - -“The man died,” said James, who had not one bit of sentiment about him, -“of a broken heart, and the reason that his heart broke was because he -paid his last cent for land, and looked no farther, a thing no man -should ever do.” - -“Perhaps he liked the place, and his wife liked it, and wanted to live -here and nowhere else.” - -“I like the place, but I shall not buy it and go on it without a cent.” - -James ascertained that the stream in its windings had formed a tongue of -alluvial soil equal in extent to all the cleared land on the place, and -which was concealed from his view the day before by the forest. It was -overflowed and dressed by the spring and fall freshets and bore an -abundance of grass, and by cutting a few bushes and removing the rafts -of driftwood could be enlarged. This added vastly to the value of the -land, particularly to an emigrant, as a stock of cattle could be kept at -once, the openings in the woods affording with the browse sufficient -pasturage in summer. He also found that the next lot of a hundred and -sixty acres was government land, could be bought for two dollars an -acre, or one dollar and sixty cents cash, and that on this lot was a -mill-site. - -“Now, Emily, we have seen all there is to be seen, and talked the matter -over, I want to know if you like this place well enough for a home, -because when I go to see this woman to know if she will take what I can -give, I shall close the bargain. My own mind is made up that for me this -is home.” - -“My mind is made up; this is my home.” - -The next morning, James went to find Mrs. Chadwick. She held the place -at nine dollars an acre; said she had held it at ten; that everybody who -was a judge of land said that it was worth more than the Ainsworth -place, that the proprietors held at ten dollars, and that she must have -cash. - -James replied that the place had no buildings but a brush camp, only six -acres cleared; that he expected to pay cash, but not so much as that. - -Mrs. Chadwick said in reply, as James very well knew, that though there -were but six acres cleared, yet by reason of the natural grass that grew -on the intervale, it cut as much hay as the other place, that had twenty -acres cleared by fire and axe. - -After talking a while she fell to eight and a half. James replied that -he compassionated her misfortunes, and wished she might get ten dollars, -and even more, per acre, but that he was a young man just starting in -life, had but seven hundred and sixty dollars in the world, but could -get enough more to make up to eight hundred, and would give that, she -replied,— - -“Can I have any time to think of it? I would like to consult my -brother-in-law.” - -“I am going through here to-morrow on my way home. I will call then and -get your mind.” - -When upon his return, he told what he had said to Mrs. Chadwick, Emily -replied,— - -“I do not see how you could offer eight hundred for the land, when you -have got but seven hundred and sixty, and you have always said that you -never would spend all you had, to get a piece of land, and then be -obliged to go on it without a cent to help yourself with.” - -“Nor do I intend to do it either. Arthur Nevins has been coaxing me for -several months to sell the colt to him. He’s an extra colt, and I don’t -know but he’ll make as good a horse as old Frank. He has offered me a -hundred and ten dollars for him. I am going to ask him a hundred and -twenty. I know he’ll give it; if not, there’s another who will, and I -shall have eighty dollars left.” - -“Is that enough to begin with?” - -“Many have begun with less, but that is not my method of looking at -things. I shall work for Mr. Whitman this summer, trap with William next -winter, and if Mrs. Chadwick takes me up, go on to the place in the -spring or early in the fall. If she won’t sell, I shall by that time -have sufficient, by the blessing of God,—as grandfather, if he was -living, would say,—to buy a place in this region equally good. There are -always people enough who are unfortunate or fickle-minded, who want to -sell.” - -James slept but very little that night, for his heart was set upon -getting that land, and more especially since he saw that his companion -was equally desirous of making it her home. - -Miss Conly had told the landlord’s wife that James could run land, and -by the time they were up in the morning, the landlord told James that -there was a gentleman in the bar-room inquiring for a surveyor, for the -only person in that place who surveyed land was sick with a rheumatic -fever, and asked him if he could go, to which James replied that he had -no instruments with him, but the landlord urged him to go and see the -man, for doubtless they could obtain the sick man’s chain and compass. -James told the man if it was merely measuring land to ascertain the -number of rods, feet or acres, he would go after he had met his -engagement with Mrs. Chadwick, but if it was a matter of contested -lines, he must get some person of more experience. The man replied there -was no other person to be obtained without going a great distance, that -there was no dispute about titles, but his work would be merely to -divide a large body of land into lots, and lay out roads through it. - -James lost no time in going to see the lady, who by the advice of her -relatives, had concluded to accept his offer, and he paid her fifty -dollars to hold the bargain till he could obtain the money at home. The -next day he went on the survey, and was occupied five days, at two -dollars and seventy-five cents a day, and paid but a trifle for the use -of the instruments. - -“Grandfather was right,” said James, as they rode away from the inn, -“when he urged me to study surveying, and would make me, when Saturday -afternoons came and I wanted to work in the shop, go with Walter Conly -and measure and plot land, and learn the use of instruments. He said it -would put many a dollar in my pocket, and it has already put in almost -fourteen.” - - - - - CHAPTER XXI. - THE BRUSH CAMP. - - -Great was the uproar when Bertie and Peter found that James was going to -sell the colt. - -“Husband,” said Mrs. Whitman, “I do hope you are not going to let James -part with that colt he has brought up, and thinks so much of. Give him -the money to pay for his land,—he only lacks forty dollars,—and let him -keep his colt.” - -But Mr. Whitman was firm. “James,” he said, “was getting along well, let -him struggle, it was better for him, too much help was worse than none; -when he is sick or unfortunate ‘twill be time enough to give him. I had -rather give him a chance to help himself,” and with that view he gave -him twenty-seven dollars a month for the summer, and also half an acre -to plant or sow, and Bertie and Peter the same. - -James sent on his money and received a deed of the land, and through Mr. -Creech, the landlord with whom he had put up, made arrangements with -Prescott, his nearest neighbor, to fell the trees on an acre of land. - -When the time drew near for James to start for the Monongahela, Bertie -said to him,— - -“What will you do for a horse now you have sold the colt? I mean to ask -father to let you have Frank.” - -“I don’t want him, Bertie, as I shall go right to my place from -trapping, and you will want Frank early in the spring. I have nothing to -carry but a rifle; my traps are all there. I shall go afoot or in one of -the wagons that haul goods over the mountains, and in the spring I can -buy a horse there or a mule for ten dollars, and sell him this side of -the mountains for seventy-five, perhaps a hundred.” - -The night before he started, Miss Conly said to him,— - -“You will be at work on the place before we meet again, I want you to -promise me one thing, and that is that you will not tear down the camp, -for I intend to live in it.” - -“That is the very first thing I intended to do.” - -“I thought as much; well, don’t you do it, I don’t want you should.” - -“But you wouldn’t think of moving into such a place as that, and I could -not consent that you should.” - -“Why not? Did not Mrs. Chadwick live there four years with a sick -husband and two little children? I hope I can do what any other woman -has done.” - -“I don’t doubt that, but there is no necessity. I intend in the spring -to get Mr. Prescott’s oxen and haul some of the trees he will cut this -fall to the spot, hew them, and put up a comfortable timber house.” - -“You will have work enough to do without that. It is a great expense to -_begin_; we must lessen it all we can. It will be but little work to -repair that camp, and when we are on the spot and you have cattle of -your own, and your tools are all there, you can do it in the intervals -of other work, and can do it much more to your mind.” - -“That is all true, Emily, but——” - -“But what?” - -“Do you think I want to take you into the woods to suffer?” - -“I have not the least idea of suffering unless I am called to. Then, I -trust, I shall be supported. Tell me honestly, cannot such a camp be -made comfortable? You know well enough what I mean by that?” - -Thus appealed to, James hesitated, looked every way but at her, and -finally said,— - -“It is true that the camp can be made a shelter from rain and snow, and -can be kept warm.” - -“Warm enough?” - -“Yes, hot as an oven, for it is not much larger,” said James, with a -groan; “but what a hole to take you from a good home and put you into.” - -“I was born in a log house and passed my childhood in it, and one not -much better than that camp, nor much larger, and there were seven of us. -Sister and William tell of what they have been through. Father and -mother and our boys are always telling the neighbors of how much William -and Mary have been through and how resolute they are and faculized. I -mean to have something to tell of and be praised for. Come, promise, you -may put down a floor in the camp and make it three poles higher, that I -may have room for my loom and spinning wheel, and that the wheels and -loom may stand firm on the floor. I don’t care whether there’s any -chimney or not. We didn’t have any in our log house for years, and the -hole in the roof was about as good, for the clay was all the time -falling off the cob-work and dropping into mother’s pots and -frying-pan.” - -“You won’t want to stay there long, I hope?” - -“Only till we can see our way clear to build a log house.” - -James reluctantly promised, and they parted. He set forth, mounted on -Frank. Bertie took Dick and accompanied him to the foot of the North -Mountain. He then took his pack and rifle, and proceeded on foot, while -Bertie went back with the horses. - -Starting much earlier in the season than before, they abandoned the Big -Beaver and went on the Little Beaver, and far up that stream. They met -with fewer beavers, but more otters, and took in log traps and in one -large steel trap which they possessed, and by killing with the rifle, -more bears than ever before, so that although they went farther and came -out of the woods much earlier (as James wanted to go on his land), they -obtained furs to the amount of five hundred and twenty-five dollars. -When they were at the mouth of the Little Beaver, on their return, they -met some Delaware Indians on their way to Pittsburg, encamped on the -bank of the main river, their canoes turned up on the grass. - -“I want a birch as I am going to live on a stream. I wonder if I can buy -one, of these Indians?” said James. - -“You can buy anything of an Indian, but his rifle or tomahawk, but if -you buy one take that dark-colored one, even if they ask more for it, -because the bark of which it is made was peeled in the winter and it is -worth, double.” - -“I thought bark wouldn’t run in the winter?” - -“It will if you pour hot water on it or hold a torch to the tree.” - -James, after considerable talk with the Indians, who wanted him to take -another one, bought the dark-colored birch. It was twenty-eight feet in -length, twenty inches deep, and four feet six inches wide. It required a -person possessed of the strength of James to carry it, as it was a load -for two Indians, but James, much to the astonishment of the savages, -turned the birch over his head and took it to the water. He now took all -his traps and some tools that he had carried to make dead-falls, and -parted with William and Mary, much to their regret, as they had -cherished the hope that he would settle near _them_. - -Jonathan Whitman had told him before he left home if he could find a -good young horse that would weigh twelve hundred, and was used to team -work, to buy him, for Frank was failing somewhat, and he wanted to favor -his faithful servant and should not work him much more. He hired a -wagoner to haul the traps and canoe and other articles to the -Susquehannah at Harristown, bought a horse, pack-saddle, and some tools; -an axe, auger, trowel, chain, and handsaw, irons made at a blacksmith’s -to peel bark, irons for a whiffletree. He also bought some white paper -and oiled it, and a window sash with six squares of glass in it, put his -traps and other matters into the birch, and managed at a small expense -to send his horse to Mr. Creech his former landlord. He then got into -the birch and, having a fair wind to start with, made a sail of his -blanket, and by alternate sailing and paddling landed at length in the -early twilight before his own camp. At the gray dawn and while it was -still dark in the forest, he took his way to the brook with his rifle on -his arm, and returned with two wood-ducks, one of which together with -the provisions in his pack, furnished him with a substantial breakfast. - -His nearest neighbor, Prescott, had been ten years on his clearing and -kept a large stock of cattle. His family consisted of three strong, -active boys, Dan, the eldest, being nineteen, which enabled him to work -for others when disposed. James had engaged with Prescott the previous -spring to cut all the grass to be found in the field pasture and -openings in the woods, and to fell in the course of the summer an acre -of trees; upon looking around he found the work all done, and the felled -trees in just the right state to burn. - -James now sat down under the shadow of the great maple to reflect, and -lay his plans for a summer’s work, and to make the most of his means. He -had left in Bertie’s care at Swatara, when he went into the woods, two -hundred and fifteen dollars, after paying for his land. This money was -the result of the sale of the colt, his summer’s work with Mr. Whitman, -the proceeds of his potato crop, and the money he had earned on his way -home by surveying. He could not expect however to obtain two dollars and -three quarters a day in future for surveying, two dollars was the -customary price, but in the former case he was delayed on his journey, -and kept on expense, and his employer had not the time to go for another -surveyor at a great distance. - -When James left Mr. Whitman’s he took but five dollars with him. He -obtained his birch of the Indians by barter, letting them have some of -his traps in exchange. They had sold their furs at Pittsburg; but the -buying of the horse, tools, and other expenses, and the money due Mr. -Prescott for labor, brought it down to about one hundred and eighty-six -dollars, and there was much still to be bought. The money for the horse, -however, would be repaid by Mr. Whitman, who would take the beast off -his hands, and in the meantime James would have the use of him. He had -carpenter’s tools enough for ordinary purposes, but not a single farming -implement, not even a narrow axe, only a broad axe, and no seed to sow -or plant, and all the harness he had in which to work his horse was a -pack-saddle, an open bridle, and no description of cart or sled. - -Having matured his plans, he cooked the remaining duck for his dinner, -put in his purse the money he intended to use, hid the rest under a heap -of stones, and swinging his pack started for Prescott’s. - -When settling with him he found that there was a great difference in -wages between the place he was now in and Swatara. He could hire -Prescott for fifty cents a day, his oxen at the same price, and Dan for -two shillings. - -Arriving at Creech’s, he was received with great cordiality, and found -there his horse and pack-saddle. He inquired in regard to the surveyor, -and was informed that the rheumatic fever had left him a cripple on -crutches. - -“The best thing you can do, Mr. Renfew,” said Creech, “if you mean to -settle here, is to buy his instruments.” James bought them for fifteen -dollars, and told Creech if he heard of any one that wanted land run, to -send them to him. - -He bought a narrow axe, and what farming tools he needed for the -present, and some rope and nails, and returned; put the fire into his -trees, and got a good burn. With the rope and cedar-bark for a -breastplate he contrived, by chopping the logs into short lengths, to -twitch and roll them together sufficiently for a second burn, and -planted his corn. He was dropping the last kernels of his corn when a -man, sent by the proprietors, came to ask if he would go twenty miles -into the woods to lay out a road, and measure some lots; that they would -send three men to his place, one to carry the chain, and two to clear -the way, if he concluded to go. They thought it would take about ten -days. - -James replied that he must have the next day to make his preparations, -and would then be ready to go. - -He hired Prescott to plough and sow to wheat two acres of ground; plant -half an acre with potatoes, except a few rods reserved for beans. - -When James returned, his first care was to peel hemlock bark, and put -the bark under pressure to flatten the sheets to cover the roof, and to -cut the timber for the roof, and logs to raise the walls, and haul them -to the camp. - -There was a mill at the mouth of the creek, and from thence he brought, -in his birch, boards to lay a floor, make an outside door and a large -chest, with a cover and partings, for cornmeal and flour. - -James rather exceeded the instructions of Emily, and raised the wall -high enough to make a good chamber above; laid the floor with boards, -and made a ladder to reach it. - -He went seven miles to a limekiln and brought lime in the pockets of the -pack-saddle, that would contain half a bushel each, and built a -fireplace and chimney of stones, with the chimney at the end of the camp -and outside, thus affording more room. - -The camp was twenty feet long by twelve wide; he put a bark partition -across at thirteen feet, leaving a room of seven feet by twelve. This -room he divided by a bark partition into a bedroom and a storeroom; the -doors were a bear’s skin and a blanket hung up. His single glazed window -and two windows filled with oiled paper were put in the kitchen, as -there all the spinning, weaving and sewing was to be done, and the most -light would be needed. In the intervals of hoeing he cleared a road to -the highway, and made it passable with wheels by great labor and two -days’ help from Prescott and his boys. - -Haying and wheat harvest were now at hand. There was not a pair of -wheels in the whole section of country in which James lived; the -settlers hauled their hay and grain on sleds, or carried it on poles and -hand-barrows. James contrived a singular vehicle for the present -necessity. He hewed out two pieces of tough ash eighteen feet in length, -fashioned one end of each into the form of cart-arms, and by pouring on -hot water bent the other ends to a half circle; he then spread them the -width of a sled, put cross-bar and whiffletree on, and two stakes behind -the cross-bar and some light slats across. The trouble now was in -respect to a harness; the rope traces did as well as leather, but the -breastplate of cedar-bark needed constant renewal, and he had neither -saddle or lugs to support the arms. He put a torch on the stem of the -birch, paddled about five miles up the creek in the night, and shot a -deer that attracted by the light came to the water’s edge. With this -rough hide he went to Prescott, who had shoemaker’s tools, and by -doubling the hide made a breastplate that would bear all the horse could -pull; he also made lugs to support the arms and put them over the -pack-saddle, and on this he hauled hay and grain, and even stones; it -went much easier than a sled would have done, because there was less -surface to drag on the ground, and a good portion of the weight was on -the horse’s back. As he had neither barn nor threshing-floor, when his -grain was ripe he threshed it on a platform of timber placed on the -ground, and the hovel being filled with hay, stored it in the kitchen as -a makeshift, and went to ask advice of Prescott, who he knew began very -poor and had passed through many similar exigencies. - -“You may put it in my barn, Mr. Renfew, but there is a better method -than that. There are a great many emigrants passing along the valley of -the Susquehannah going west, and a good many settling round the mouth of -the creek. They want supplies. Grain and pork have gone up, and the -miller is buying all the old corn and grain he can get to grind, and all -the new wheat, and storing it for a rise. I have no doubt you could sell -it.” - -The next day James received a letter from Bertie, who informed him that -during the winter his father and Peter had made him a wagon to move -with, and his mother had woven the cloth to cover it, and as he was not -much of a mechanic he was going to paint it as his share of the work. - -James wrote Bertie to thank his father and mother and Peter, and to ask -his father to put in a tongue suitable for cattle to work, as he should -move with oxen. - -He now went to the mill and sold his wheat for ninety cents, and carried -it down in the birch; it measured sixty bushels. He brought back some -flour, cornmeal, a grindstone, pork, and a keg of molasses. - -“This is better than living on the Monongahela,” said James to himself; -“there wheat won’t pay to carry over the mountains or down the Ohio, but -it will pay to carry it yourself in a birch down a creek.” - -He now dug a potato hole in which to store his potatoes for the winter, -and built over it a log house eight feet in width and fourteen in -length, underpinned it, and pointed the underpinning with lime mortar, -hewed the logs at top and bottom, put on a bark roof and laid a floor -with flattened poles, and made a good door with wooden hinges and latch -and two windows closed by shutters; here he put all his tools and traps, -intending to make at some future time a workshop of it, and for the -present it served as a convenient storehouse and protected his potatoes -from freezing, otherwise he must have covered them with such a depth of -earth that it would have been difficult to get at them during the -winter. - -He was now ready to set out for home; and mounting his horse rode to -Prescott’s, and exchanged his pack-saddle for a riding-saddle, and -happened to mention to his neighbor that he had left a keg of molasses -in the camp. - -“You should not have done that, for if a bear happens to come along and -smells it, he’ll set his wits at work to get to it.” - -“Is that so?” - -“Sartain; a bear is raving crazy after molasses or honey or sugar; he’ll -stave the door in or make the bark fly off that roof a good deal faster -than you put it on.” - -“Then what will become of my corn while I am away?” - -“There will be nothing to hinder all the wild animals from helping -themselves.” - -“They’ll destroy it all before I get back.” - -“Oh, no, they won’t! They may hurt it a good deal, and they may not. -There’s one thing in your favor: it is a great year for acorns and -beech-nuts, and hickory, and all kinds of nuts and cranberries,—the bogs -are full of cranberries, and the bears and coons love them dearly, so -they won’t be so hard upon the corn as they would otherwise be. But I -don’t think there are many bears round this fall; the coons and the -turkeys are the worst, because there are so many of them; but the coons -are ten times as bad as the wild turkeys, because there are so many of -them, and they come when you are asleep—the turkeys come in the daytime, -and a shot or two at them scares them off for a week, and they are -first-rate eating. If they take the bread out of your mouth, they put -meat into it.” - -“I wouldn’t object to the bears if I was to be here—a bear’s skin is -worth about thirty bushels of corn.” - -“Ay; but you might lose your corn and not get the bear.” - -“I wish I had sowed wheat on the burn, I could have taken care of that -before I went; but I think I’ll go back and get the molasses, and leave -it here.” - -“I think I can help you, neighbor. Here’s my Dan; he’s the master -critter for hunting and trapping you ever saw—plagues me to death with -his nonsense. He’d sit up two nights to shoot one coon. We arn’t much -driven with work now, and shan’t be till you get back, and if you’ll let -him use some of your traps, I know he’d be tickled to death to live in -your camp and hunt and trap; and you may depend on it no wild critter -will do any damage while he’s around, for he’d take the dog with him, -and nothing can stir in the night but the dog will let him know it.” - -“I should be very glad to have him, and will pay him.” - -“The traps will be pay enough and more too.” - -“I should like to have him pull my beans and thresh ‘em out.” - -“Yes, he can do that, and dig the potatoes and put them in the pit; he -can do it as well as not; he’ll have a great deal of idle time, and I -don’t want him to get too lazy; and so you won’t need to go back after -your ‘lasses.” - -“It must be a great change to Miss Conly to leave a pleasant home and -kind neighbors and come here, and I had thought of getting some hens. It -would make it seem a little more like home to her to hear the hens -cackle and the rooster crow, and have eggs to get; and if Dan is going -to be there to feed ‘em, I can have ‘em as well as not.” - -“We can find you in hens, and Dan can take ‘em down with him.” - -“What are they worth apiece? I’ll take half a dozen.” - -“Look here, neighbor, hens nor geese nor turkeys ain’t worth anything -here ‘cept to eat; there’s no market for such things here. I perceive -you have carpenter’s tools, and know how to use them, which none of us -do. Take all the hens you want, for I believe we’ve got a hundred, and -if you could make me a good ox-yoke I should be more than paid; and any -little thing that you can’t do alone just call on the boys, and they or -I will help you, and we will change about in that way. I can make -things, to be sure—have ter—but it takes me forever, and then I’m -ashamed to have any body see ‘em, only shoes. I can make a good shoe or -boot, and I can tan a hide or skin as well as anybody.” - -“Can you curry?” - -“No, but it isn’t much to carry a hide to the village to get it -curried.” - -“There’s one thing, Mr. Renfew, that I want to tell you,” said Mrs. -Prescott, “that you wouldn’t be likely to think of, and that is to get a -pig and have it in the pen when you get there. When we came on to this -place we were eleven miles from neighbors, and you don’t know how much -company and comfort it was to me when Mr. Prescott was away at his work -and before we had so many children, to hear a pig squeal and to have him -to feed; and so it is to have a cat or a dog. When we have no company of -our own kind, we take to the dumb creatures.” - -“Have you any pigs to spare, Mr. Prescott?” - -“We’ve got a whole litter of late pigs and a dozen shoats, and there’s a -black and white kitten you may have; and when you come with your woman -we want you to come right here, because you’ll both be fatigued, and the -wife won’t want to go right to cooking the first moment, and then you -can take the kitten and the pigs along with you. I wish we had a puppy -for you; a dog is valuable to a new settler as well as company.” - -“I’ve got a dog at home if he has not forgotten me. I do not feel that I -ought to put myself upon you; perhaps I shall have four oxen and other -cattle when I come.” - -“No matter if there’s ten oxen. Thank God there’s room enough in house -and barn, and victuals enough, and nothing will suit the boys better -than to wait on you. You must pass your word, and then we shall know, -for the good Book says, ‘Better is a neighbor that is near, than a -brother afar off.’” - -James promised. - -James reached home safely. - - - - - CHAPTER XXII. - THE WILDERNESS HOME. - - -They were married, and instantly began to make their preparations for -departure. Emily took none of her nicer articles of housekeeping, -nothing in the shape of furniture but a small looking-glass, saying that -there was no room or use for them in the camp; and as they were not -going west of the mountains, and James had a birch, and could come down -the river, they could get them when they had more room and it was -needful; that what she wanted most of all were her tools and necessary -things. And she carried not only the fixtures for a loom, but the loom -itself, wool, flax, dye-stuffs, wheels to spin flax and wool, cards, -warping-bars, a quill-wheel, reels, a flax-comb, a Dutch-oven, plenty of -pots and kettles, but one large pewter platter, three pewter plates and -two earthen mugs; three milkpans, and a churn and milk-pail and skimmer, -and two good beds; not a chair, nor even a chest of drawers. But as the -wagon was of great size, and the team strong, they were able to carry an -abundance of the implements that would enable them, as they were -possessed of both brains and hands, to manufacture these other -conveniences and comforts, and be really independent. James did much -after the same fashion, taking a good stock of carpenter’s tools, some -cooper’s tools, a brick trowel, horse-nails, and a shoeing-hammer, -harrow-teeth, the irons and mould-board of a plough, and the iron -fixtures, and the tools pertaining to a lathe. - -“Mother,” said Bertie, “they are just alike; isn’t it queer? They want -to take the same things; it’s all tools with ‘em both. James hasn’t -taken hardly anything but tools, except books.” - -“That is because they are both gifted with common sense, and mean to be -comfortable, and not to make a failure of it.” - -James bought four oxen that measured six feet nine inches in girth. Mr. -Conly gave his daughter a cow, and Mrs. Whitman gave James another, and -Maria gave him six sheep. James had the cows and oxen shod, put the cows -in a yoke, and fastened them behind the wagon. - -When Mr. Whitman asked James why he preferred to move with oxen, when he -was so fond of horses and was accustomed to handling them, he replied: -“On the score of economy;” that he had bought a pair of oxen for what -the harnesses of two horses would have cost him, and the four for what -two good horses would have cost, and then had more strength; that there -was not much difference in the rate of travel, on a long road, between -oxen and horses when they were both heavily loaded; and as he should not -at first have a great deal of hay and grain, oxen could be kept on -browse much better than horses; that he could make yoke and bows and all -the gear for oxen himself, and if he wished could, at any time, sell the -oxen for beef and buy horses when better able to keep the latter; and, -finally, if like to starve, could eat them, and thus had one winter’s -provision in possession. - -Bertie insisted upon going with them, and driving the team as far as -Shamokin, while James rode on old Frank with his wife behind him on a -pillion. - -When they parted, Bertie said,— - -“You needn’t be surprised to see me up there on a piece of land. I don’t -mean to stay at home; and if you’ll let me stay with you, I may buy a -piece of land, and come up there and work on it.” - -“Then you had better keep right on with us,” said Emily, “for I have no -doubt you have some one in view for a future housekeeper.” - -“No, truly, the fact is, I like all the girls so well that I can’t like -any one to pick her out. I romp with ‘em, quarrel with ‘em, and then -make up, and they are all just like sisters. Expect I must go among -strangers to get one; but if I thought I’d got to go through such a -tribulation, and suffer so much as James did in getting you, I never -would undertake it.” - -“It will pay if you do, Bertie,” said James. - -The emigrants slept in the wagon, built a fire at night and morning, and -cooked beside the roads; stormy days, put up, milked the cows, and -exchanged the milk that they did not need themselves at the farm-houses -for other articles of food; and the latter part of their journey, as -they came into the unsettled portion of the country, James killed game. -They reached Prescott’s upon a Thursday at noon, and stopped till the -next morning. - -Mr. Prescott, without their knowledge, sent Clarence, the second boy, to -inform Dan of their coming, with the pig and the kitten; and his wife -sent butter, bread, and a boiled ham. - -When the married pair reached the camp, they found the provisions on the -table, a good fire, a camp-kettle full of hot water, a birch-bark dish -full of eggs, the kitten in Dan’s lap and the pig was squealing lustily -in the hovel; while the rooster, jealous of the intruder, was flapping -his wings on the roof of the camp, and crowing in defiance. The walls of -the hovel were hung with the skins of coons, foxes, and two otters -stretched on hoops; the beans were threshed, and the potatoes in the -pit. The boys were invited to dinner as the first visitors, and as they -had but three plates and two mugs, James and his wife ate and drank out -of the same plate and mug, and gave the other vessels to the boys, who, -after the meal, helped to unload the cart, set up the loom, and make -other necessary arrangements, and took leave after an early supper. - -They now retired to rest, not without first returning thanks for their -safe arrival to the Being whose hand, unseen, had brought them safely -hitherto, and given to the pauper boy a homestead and a helpmeet. - -It was quite an important matter for James to prepare his workshop, as -he had brought only the iron portion of his farming tools; and they had -not a bowl, nor barrel, nor even a wash-tub. So, after they had arranged -matters, and he had built a pigpen and dug out a trough, he went to the -mill in the birch, and brought home plank for a work-bench, and hardwood -stuff for the framework of his lathe, and to make a wheel and footboard; -and pine-boards for shelves and racks to put his tools in, and to make -drawers; and before the ground froze, he had, mostly on stormy days, -made bowls and plates and trays of wood, two wash-tubs and a trough to -salt pork in, and the wood-work both of a plough and harrow, and had cut -down the great wagon to proper dimensions for farm labor. - -When James went to mill after his lumber, he felt quite uneasy lest -Emily, left thus alone in the woods, should feel unhappy and homesick; -but, upon his return, he heard, as he came up the bank, the whir of the -shuttle, and found her singing at the loom, with the kitten on the bench -beside her. - -“You seem in excellent spirits,” said James, delighted to find her in -this happy mood. - -“Why should I not be? Plenty to eat, plenty to do, and a nice young man -to take care of me.” - -James bought three shoats, and let them run in the woods, and every -night and morning they came up to the hovel, and he fed them with milk -and a little corn, and then they were off to the woods nutting and -hunting for rattlesnakes. - -James ground his axe, to cut logs and hew them, on the two sides, for -the walls of a house; but Emily persuaded him to cut and hew timber for -a frame barn, telling him the camp was good enough; that she did not -want a house to take care of; she wanted to spin and weave, and get -something to keep house with; that she was just as happy as she could be -in the camp; and that he needed a barn to hold the hay he was now -obliged to stack out; he also needed a barnfloor to thresh his grain and -to store it afterwards. - -Thus exhorted and encouraged, James, convinced that his wife was really -well content to live in the camp, cut and hewed his barn frame in the -winter, and also cut logs sufficient to make boards to cover it, and -hauled them to the bank of the creek, sawed up bolts for shingles, and -in the evening split out the shingles, and shaved them before the fire -in the camp, enough for the barn and house both; had also cut logs -enough to furnish boards for the roof of the house and for doors, -window-frames and sashes, for he had tools to make sashes. When the -spring freshet came, he rolled his logs into the stream, and hired two -men, who were river-drivers, to drive them to the mill, and the first of -April raised his barn, and had it fit to put hay in by the time it was -needed, though the doors were not made till after wheat harvest. - -A Mr. Litchfield, an emigrant, had bought the farm that James first -looked at; it had taken all his means, and he was obliged to work out -part of the time to get a little money and provisions. While at work on -his barn, James hired Litchfield to clear three acres of land, and paid -him in pork, wheat to sow, wheat flour to eat, and by letting him have -his cattle to plough. That autumn James dug a cellar and stoned it, and -in the winter hauled the logs to build the walls, and hewed them on two -sides; hauled bricks from the mouth of the creek to build a chimney and -put them in the hovel, which now made an excellent storehouse for the -materials to build the house. Indeed, everything was done that could be -done till the walls were raised; but Emily manifested no more desire for -a house than at first, and still clung to the camp; and James sold pork -and corn and flour to emigrants, who began to multiply, going west, and -had caught coons and foxes and otters enough, in the previous fall and -winter, to pay all the expense incurred in building his barn, and after -all his expense in outfits and labor, was a hundred dollars better off -in money than at the time he left the Monongahela. - -Just after wheat harvest, James received a letter from Bertie, saying -that if he would come to Swatara in his birch, himself and Ned Conly -would return with him, and bring his sheep. - -“I know what they want,” said James; “they want to come in the birch, -and see the rough side of life, and that’s the reason they want to come -now, while we are in the camp; but I wish we had a good house for them.” - -“I don’t. They wouldn’t have half so good a time; they want to see just -what beginning in the woods is, and what they must come to if they take -it up, and perhaps it will sicken them.” - -“It won’t sicken Bertie. But where shall we put them? In the loft they -will stifle this hot weather. If we give them our bedroom, and put our -bed in the kitchen, there won’t be room to eat, for the loom and the -spinning-wheels take up the greater part of it.” - -“Put ‘em in the barn.” - -“Indeed I won’t put Bertie and your brother in the barn. I shouldn’t -sleep a wink myself.” - -“Take the cloth that was on the wagon and make a tent. You make the -poles, and I’ll cut and make the rest; put a good bed in it, and they -can build a fire before it, and make believe they are Indians, if they -want to. I know that’ll suit Ned; he is running over with that sort of -thing.” - -“You don’t want any bed, Emily, Bert won’t want that, I know. I’ll make -a bed of cedar brush, and spread a bearskin over it; do you make a good -bolster and stuff it with straw, and I’ll spread a wolfskin over that. I -have a lot of skins that I didn’t sell, thinking we might need them for -bedding. Give them a blanket, a birch bark dish to drink out of, and -hang up some otter and coon skins, round the tent; pitch it near the -spring, and they’ll be in kingdom come.” - -“I believe you are going to turn boy yourself. I didn’t think you had -any such notions about you.” - -“True, I never had any boyhood like other children; but I know the -feelings of Bert and Ned, for all that, and I think it is as much my -duty to make Bert happy, as it is to pray to God.” - -James arrived safely at Mr. Whitman’s. The return voyage was not -difficult, as there were three to paddle, and carry the canoe when -needful, Ned and Bertie bringing their packs, as they intended to go -back on foot, and by their actions, seemed to be going into training for -the backwoods. - -It was now two days over the time James had fixed as the probable date -of his return. The sun was setting, and Emily was looking forward to -another lonely night, when the report of two rifles in quick succession, -told her they were at hand. Before she could reach the spot, James was -climbing the bank, and she almost fell into her husband’s arms. - -“I am going to have part of that, Em,” cried Ned, clasping her round the -waist. - -“And I too,” said Bertie, coming up on the other side, while the -overjoyed wife and sister fairly cried with excess of happiness. - -“What is that?” said Bertie, catching a glimpse of the white covering of -the tent in the gathering twilight. - -“That’s where we are going to put you,” said James. - -Bertie turned aside the cloth and peered in. - -“Come here, Ned Conly; this is worth coming all the way here for.” - -“How glad I am, Bert, that we didn’t wait till they had got a good -house; then we should have had to sleep in the best room, with a linen -spread, all wove in patterns, on the bed, and curtains.” - -“Yes, and had to wipe our feet every time we came into the house; but -now” (and he turned a somersault on the bearskin) “we can get into bed -with our boots on.” - -After a most bountiful supper, for Dan had killed a wild turkey, they -retired pretty thoroughly fatigued to their tent. In the morning Bert -said,— - -“Now, James, we want to go all over your place to-day, and see all -you’ve got and all you’ve done, and talk and loll and fool round, and -the next day we want to go over the next two places, above and below, -and then we are going to work.” - -“You are not going to do a stroke of work. I didn’t bring you up here -for that; I suppose you could have done that just as well at home.” - -“We are going to help thresh your grain,” said Ned. - -“My neighbors have threshed it since I went away. You are going thirty -miles up the creek with me in the birch to catch trout in a brook, and -to hunt deer and perhaps a bear.” - -“I go in for that,” said Bert; “but after that you need not think you -are going to keep us from doing something; you are putting on too many -airs, prosperity is injuring you. Remember, young man, you have been to -school to both of us.” - -They went on the hunt, and took Dan Prescott with them, had a glorious -time, and Ned and Bert brought home a bearskin each; it is presumed they -killed the bears. - -The first night after they arrived home, Bertie said,— - -“Now prick up your ears and hear the news. Ned, you tell.” - -“No, you tell; you can do it best.” - -“James, can these two places above and below be bought, and for how -much?” - -“For two dollars an acre. I have got the preemption” (right to purchase -before another) “of the one above.” - -“Then you must buy ‘em,—the upper one for me, and the lower for Ned -Conly.” - -Emily, during this conversation, sat with clasped hands; and then -running to Bert, taking him by both shoulders, said,— - -“Bertie Whitman, are you telling the truth, or are you fooling?” - -“The truth and nothing but the truth, my dear girl. Walter has concluded -not to go to college. Your father has given the farm to him to take care -of the old folks; my father is going to do the same by Peter. Ned and I -have got to shirk for ourselves, and are going to shirk up to Lycoming; -that is, by and by, but we want to make sure of the land before we go -back.” - -Ned Conly was an adept at handling tools, and as James had the materials -for the house all on the spot, the cellar prepared, and the logs hewn, -they put up the house, moved into it, and harvested the potatoes and -corn before the boys went back. Ned Conly was engaged to Jane Gifford. -He married her, and came on to his place the next year. Bert came the -next year after Ned, built a log house on his place, and a saw-mill, as -his father supplied him with abundant means, and boarded with James -three years, when he married the daughter of Henry Hawkes, a neighbor of -James; and in the course of five years more Arthur Nevins and John -Edibean settled six miles above them on the creek. - -They built a schoolhouse, and had meetings in it on the Sabbath, and got -Stillman Russell up there to keep school in the winter for three winters -in succession, and Mr. Whitman contributed to his support for the first -winter. - -Thus did the Hand Unseen, through the benevolent action of one man, and -amid obstacles apparently insurmountable, lay the foundations of a -Christian community. - - - - - ELIJAH KELLOGG’S BOOKS. - - - ANY VOLUME SOLD SEPARATELY. - - - GOOD OLD TIMES SERIES. - - THE UNSEEN HAND; or, James Renfrew and His Helpers. 16mo. $1 25 - Illus. - - A STRONG ARM and a Mother’s Blessing. Illus. 16mo. 1 25 - - GOOD OLD TIMES. Illus. 16mo. 1 25 - - - ELM ISLAND STORIES. - - Six vols. Illus. 16mo. Per vol. $1 25. - - LION BEN. - - CHARLIE BELL. - - THE ARK. - - THE BOY FARMERS. - - THE YOUNG SHIPBUILDERS. - - THE HARDSCRABBLE. - - - FOREST GLEN SERIES. - - Six vols. Illus. Per vol. $1 25. - - SOWED BY THE WIND; or, A Sailor-Boy’s Fortune. - - WOLF RUN; or, The Boys of the Wilderness. - - BROUGHT TO THE FRONT; or, The Young Defenders. - - BLACK RIFLE’S MISSION; or, On the Trail. - - FOREST GLEN; or, The Mohawk’s Friendship. - - BURYING THE HATCHET; or, The Young Brave of the Delawares. - - - PLEASANT COVE SERIES. - - Six vols. Illus. Per vol. $1 25. - - ARTHUR BROWN, the Young Captain. - - THE YOUNG DELIVERERS. - - THE CRUISE OF THE CASCO. - - CHILD OF THE ISLAND GLEN. - - JOHN GODSOE’S LEGACY. - - FISHER-BOYS OF PLEASANT COVE. - - - WHISPERING PINE SERIES. - - Six vols. Illus. Per vol. $1 25. - - A STOUT HEART; or, The Student from Over the Sea. - - THE SPARK OF GENIUS; or, The College Life of James Trafton. - - THE SOPHOMORES OF RADCLIFFE; or, James Trafton and His Bosom - Friends. - - THE WHISPERING PINE; or, The Graduates of Radcliffe. - - THE TURNING OF THE TIDE; or, Radcliffe Rich and his Patients. - - WINNING HIS SPURS; or, Henry Morton’s First Trial. - - - LEE AND SHEPARD, PUBLISHERS, BOSTON. - - - - - LEE & SHEPARD’S - - LIST OF - - JUVENILE PUBLICATIONS. - - - OLIVER OPTIC’S BOOKS. - - Each Set in a neat Box with Illuminated Titles. - - =Army and Navy Stories.= A Library for Young and Old, in 6 =$1 50= - volumes. 16mo. Illustrated. Per vol. - - The Soldier Boy. - - The Sailor Boy. - - The Young Lieutenant. - - The Yankee Middy. - - Fighting Joe. - - Brave Old Salt. - - =Famous “Boat-Club” Series.= A Library for Young People. =1 25= - Handsomely Illustrated. Six volumes, in neat box. Per vol. - - The Boat Club; or, The Bunkers of Rippleton. - - All Aboard; or, Life on the Lake. - - Now or Never; or, The Adventures of Bobby Bright. - - Try Again; or, The Trials and Triumphs of Harry West. - - Poor and Proud; or, The Fortunes of Katy Redburn. - - Little by Little; or, The Cruise of the Flyaway. - - =Lake Shore Series, The.= Six volumes. Illustrated. In neat =1 25= - box. Per vol. - - Through by Daylight; or, The Young Engineer of the Lake Shore - Railroad. - - Lightning Express; or, The Rival Academies. - - On Time; or, The Young Captain of the Ucayga Steamer. - - Switch Off; or, The War of the Students. - - Break Up; or, The Young Peacemakers. - - Bear and Forbear; or, The Young Skipper of Lake Ucayga. - - =Soldier Boy Series, The.= Three volumes, in neat box. =1 50= - Illustrated. Per vol. - - The Soldier Boy; or, Tom Somers in the Army. - - The Young Lieutenant; or, The Adventures of an Army Officer. - - Fighting Joe; or, The Fortunes of a Staff Officer. - - =Sailor Boy Series, The.= Three volumes in neat box. =1 50= - Illustrated. Per vol. - - The Sailor Boy; or, Jack Somers in the Navy. - - The Yankee Middy; or, Adventures of a Naval Officer. - - Brave Old Salt; or, Life on the Quarter-Deck. - - =Starry Flag Series, The.= Six volumes. Illustrated. Per vol. =1 25= - - The Starry Flag; or, The Young Fisherman of Cape Ann. - - Breaking Away; or, The Fortunes of a Student. - - Seek and Find; or, The Adventures of a Smart Boy. - - Freaks of Fortune; or, Half Round the World. - - Make or Break; or, The Rich Man’s Daughter. - - Down the River; or, Buck Bradford and the Tyrants. - - =The Household Library.= 3 volumes. Illustrated. Per volume =1 50= - - Living too Fast. - - In Doors and Out. - - The Way of the World. - - =Way of the World, The.= By William T. Adams (Oliver Optic) =1 50= - 12mo - - =Woodville Stories.= Uniform with Library for Young People. Six =1 25= - volumes. Illustrated. Per vol. 16mo - - Rich and Humble; or, The Mission of Bertha Grant. - - In School and Out; or, The Conquest of Richard Grant. - - Watch and Wait; or, The Young Fugitives. - - Work and Win; or, Noddy Newman on a Cruise. - - Hope and Have; or, Fanny Grant among the Indians. - - Haste and Waste; or, The Young Pilot of Lake Champlain. - - =Yacht Club Series.= Uniform with the ever popular “Boat Club” =1 50= - Series. Completed in six vols. Illustrated. Per vol. 16mo - - Little Bobtail; or, The Wreck of the Penobscot. - - The Yacht Club; or, The Young Boat Builders. - - Money Maker; or, The Victory of the Basilisk. - - The Coming Wave; or, The Treasure of High Rock. - - The Dorcas Club; or, Our Girls Afloat. - - Ocean Born; or, The Cruise of the Clubs. - - =Onward and Upward Series, The.= Complete in six volumes. =1 25= - Illustrated. In neat box. Per vol. - - Field and Forest; or, The Fortunes of a Farmer. - - Plane and Plank; or, The Mishaps of a Mechanic. - - Desk and Debit; or, The Catastrophes of a Clerk. - - Cringle and Cross-Tree; or, The Sea Swashes of a Sailor. - - Bivouac and Battle; or, The Struggles of a Soldier. - - Sea and Shore; or, The Tramps of a Traveller. - - =Young America Abroad Series.= A Library of Travel and =1 50= - Adventure in Foreign Lands. Illustrated by Nast, Stevens, - Perkins, and others. Per vol. 16mo - - _First Series._ - - Outward Bound; or, Young America Afloat. - - Shamrock and Thistle; or, Young America in Ireland and Scotland. - - Red Cross; or, Young America in England and Wales. - - Dikes and Ditches; or, Young America in Holland and Belgium. - - Palace and Cottage; or, Young America in France and Switzerland. - - Down the Rhine; or, Young America in Germany. - - _Second Series._ - - Up the Baltic; or, Young America in Norway, Sweden, and Denmark. - - Northern Lands; or, Young America in Russia and Prussia. - - Cross and Crescent; or, Young America in Turkey and Greece. - - Sunny Shores; or, Young America in Italy and Austria. - - Vine and Olive; or, Young America in Spain and Portugal. - - Isles of the Sea; or, Young America Homeward Bound. - - =Riverdale Stories.= Twelve volumes. A New Edition. Profusely - Illustrated from new designs by Billings. In neat box. Per - vol. - - Little Merchant. - - Young Voyagers. - - Robinson Crusoe, Jr. - - Dolly and I. - - Uncle Ben. - - Birthday Party. - - Proud and Lazy. - - Careless Kate. - - Christmas Gift. - - The Picnic Party. - - The Gold Thimble. - - The Do-Somethings. - - =Riverdale Story Books.= Six volumes, in neat box. Cloth. Per - vol. - - Little Merchant. - - Young Voyagers. - - Dolly and I. - - Proud and Lazy. - - Careless Kate. - - Robinson Crusoe, Jr. - - =Flora Lee Story Books.= Six volumes in neat box. Cloth. Per - vol. - - Christmas Gift. - - Uncle Ben. - - Birthday Party. - - The Picnic Party. - - The Gold Thimble. - - The Do-Somethings. - - =Great Western Series, The.= Six volumes. Illustrated. Per vol. =1 50= - - Going West; or, The Perils of a Poor Boy. - - Out West; or, Roughing it on the Great Lakes. - - Lake Breezes. - - =Our Boys’ and Girls’ Offering.= Containing Oliver Optic’s =1 50= - popular Story, Ocean Born; or, The Cruise of the Clubs; - Stories of the Seas, Tales of Wonder, Records of Travel, &c. - Edited by Oliver Optic. Profusely Illustrated. Covers printed - in Colors. 8vo. - - =Our Boys’ and Girls’ Souvenir.= Containing Oliver Optic’s =1 50= - Popular Story, Going West; or, The Perils of a Poor Boy; - Stories of the Sea, Tales of Wonder, Records of Travel, &c. - Edited by Oliver Optic. With numerous full-page and - letter-press Engravings. Covers printed in Colors. 8vo. - - - - - BY SOPHIE MAY. - - - =Little Prudy’s Flyaway Series.= By the author of “Dotty Dimple =75= - Stories,” and “Little Prudy Stories.” Complete in six - volumes. Illustrated. Per vol. - - Little Folks Astray. - - Prudy Keeping House. - - Aunt Madge’s Story. - - Little Grandmother. - - Little Grandfather. - - Miss Thistledown. - - =Little Prudy Stories.= By Sophie May. Complete. Six volumes, =75= - handsomely illustrated, in a neat box. Per vol. - - Little Prudy. - - Little Prudy’s Sister Susy. - - Little Prudy’s Captain Horace. - - Little Prudy’s Cousin Grace. - - Little Prudy’s Story Book. - - Little Prudy’s Dotty Dimple. - - =Dotty Dimple Stories.= By Sophie May, author of Little Prudy. =75= - Complete in six volumes. Illustrated. Per vol. - - Dotty Dimple at her Grandmother’s. - - Dotty Dimple at Home. - - Dotty Dimple out West. - - Dotty Dimple at Play. - - Dotty Dimple at School. - - Dotty Dimple’s Flyaway. - - =The Quinnebassett Girls.= 16mo. Illustrated =1 50= - - The Doctor’s Daughter. 16mo. Illustrated =1 50= - - Our Helen. 16mo. Illustrated =1 50= - - The Asbury Twins. 16mo. Illustrated =1 50= - - - =Flaxie Frizzle Stories.= To be completed in six volumes. =75= - Illustrated. Per vol. - - Flaxie Frizzle. - - Flaxie Frizzle and Doctor Papa. - - Little Pitchers. - - - - - BY J. T. TROWBRIDGE. - - - =His Own Master.= 16mo. Cloth. Illustrated. (In press.) =1 25= - - =Bound in Honor; or, Boys will be Boys.= 16mo. Cloth. =1 25= - Illustrated - - - - - MISCELLANEOUS. - - - =Alden Series.= By Joseph Alden, D.D. 4 vols. Illustrated. Per =50= - vol. - - The Cardinal Flower. - - The Lost Lamb. - - Henry Ashton. - - The Light-hearted Girl. - - =Baby Ballad Series.= (In press.) Three volumes. Illustrated. =1 00= - 4to. Per vol. - - Baby Ballads. By Uno. - - Little Songs. By Mrs. Follen. - - New Songs for Little People. By Mrs. Anderson. - - =Beckoning Series.= By Paul Cobden. To be completed in six =1 25= - volumes. Illustrated. Per vol. - - Who will Win? - - Going on a Mission. - - The Turning Wheel. - - Good Luck. - - Take a Peep. - - (Another in preparation.) - - =Blue Jacket Series.= Six vols. 12mo. Illustrated. Per vol. =1 50= - - Swiss Family Robinson. - - Willis the Pilot. - - The Prairie Crusoe. - - Gulliver’s Travels. - - The Arctic Crusoe. - - The Young Crusoe. - - =Celesta Stories, The.= By Mrs. E. M. Berry. 16mo. Illustrated. =1 00= - Per vol. - - Celesta. - - The Crook Straightened. - - Crooked and Straight. - - =Charley Roberts Series.= By Miss Louise M. Thurston. To be =1 00= - completed in six volumes. Per vol. - - How Charlie Roberts became a Man. - - Hoome in the West. - - Children of Amity Court. - - =Crusoe Library.= An attractive series for Young and Old. Six =1 50= - volumes. Illustrated. In neat box. Per vol. - - Robinson Crusoe. - - Arabian Nights. - - Arctic Crusoe. - - Young Crusoe. - - Prairie Crusoe. - - Willis the Pilot. - - =Dick and Daisy Series.= By Miss Adelaide F. Samuels. Four =50= - volumes. Illustrated. Per vol. - - Adrift in the World; or, Dick and Daisy’s Early Days. - - Fighting the Battle; or, Dick and Daisy’s City Life. - - Saved from the Street; or, Dick and Daisy’s protégés. - - Grandfather Milly’s Luck; or, Dick and Daisy’s Reward. - - =Dick Travers Abroad Series.= By Miss Adelaide F. Samuels. Four =50= - volumes. Illustrated. Per vol. - - Little Cricket; or, Dick Travers in London. - - Palm Land; or, Dick Travers in the Chagos Islands. - - The Lost Tar; or, Dick Travers in Africa. - - On the Wave; or, Dick Travers aboard the Happy Jack. - - The Turning of the Tide; or, Radcliffe Rich and his Patients. - - Winning his Spurs; or, Henry Morton’s First Trial. - - =Girlhood Series, The.= Comprising six volumes. 12mo. =1 50= - Illustrated - - An American Girl Abroad. By Miss Adeline Trafton. - - The Doctor’s Daughter. By Sophie May. - - Sallie Williams, The Mountain Girl. By Mrs. E. D. Cheney. - - Only Girls. By Virginia F. Townsend. - - Lottie Eames; or, Do Your Best, and Leave the Rest. - - Rhoda Thornton’s Girlhood. By Mrs. Mary E. Pratt. - - =Sunnybank Stories.= Twelve volumes. Compiled by Rev. Asa =25= - Bullard, editor of the “Well-Spring.” Profusely Illustrated. - 32mo. Bound in high colors, and put in a neat box. Per volume - - Uncle Henry’s Stories. - - Dog Stories. - - Stories for Alice. - - My Teacher’s Gem. - - The Scholar’s Welcome. - - Going to School. - - Aunt Lizzie’s Stories. - - Mother’s Stories. - - Grandpa’s Stories. - - The Good Scholar. - - The Lighthouse. - - Reward of Merit. - - =Sunnybank Stories.= Six volumes. Compiled by Rev. Asa Bullard. =25= - Profusely Illustrated. 32mo. Bound in high colors, and put up - in a neat box. Per volume - - Uncle Henry’s Stories. - - Dog Stories. - - Stories for Alice. - - Aunt Lizzie’s Stories. - - Mother’s Stories. - - Grandpa’s Stories. - - =Shady Dell Stories.= Six volumes. Compiled by Rev. Asa =25= - Bullard, editor of the “Well-Spring.” Profusely Illustrated. - 32mo. Bound in high colors, and put up in a neat box (to - match the Sunnybank Stories). Per volume - - My Teacher’s Gem. - - The Scholar’s Welcome. - - Going to School. - - The Good Scholar. - - The Lighthouse. - - Reward of Merit. - - =Tone Masters, The.= A Musical Series for the Young. By the =1 25= - author of “The Soprano,” &c. 16mo. Illustrated. Per volume - - Mozart and Mendelssohn. - - Handel and Haydn. - - Bach and Beethoven. - - =Twilight Stories.= By Mrs. Follen. Twelve volumes. 4to. =50= - Illustrated. Per volume - - Travellers’ Stories. - - True Stories about Dogs. - - Made-Up Stories. - - Peddler of Dust Sticks. - - When I was a Girl. - - Who speaks Next? - - The Talkative Wig. - - What Animals do and say. - - Two Festivals. - - Conscience. - - Piccolissima. - - Little Songs. - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES - - - 1. Moved advertisement page from after Contents page to before - advertisements at the end of book. - 2. Changed ‘self-depreciation’ to ‘self-deprecation’ on p. 132. - 3. Added missing ‘of’ on p. 146. - 4. Added missing ‘as’ on p. 159. - 5. Silently corrected typographical errors. - 6. Retained anachronistic and non-standard spellings as printed. - 7. Enclosed italics font in _underscores_. - 8. 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