V.
_BELLE’S HOME._
You may be sure there was not much trouble in gaining the consent ofLucy’s father to the plan proposed for her welfare. He was only tooglad and thankful to feel that his motherless little daughter wouldbe placed where she would have a kind and prudent eye to oversee andguide her; and where she would have the opportunity of growing upinto a useful and steady woman. This he knew she could not do in theunsettled life she now led on board ship with him, and he had long beenconsidering what he should do with her.
Lucy, though thankful, was not as much pleased, and shed some bittertears over the prospect. The poor child wanted to learn, and was gladto have a settled home; but she dreaded the thought of parting from herfather, who would only be able to see her at such times as his vesselshould be at the port of Savannah, and who was the only person whom shehad to love her. But, in a day or two after, when she had seen Mrs.Gordon, and heard her talk so kindly of all the pleasures and comfortsshe would find in this promised home, she became more reconciled to it,especially as the autumn still seemed a long way off to her, and shehad all the summer to go back and forth with her father on the sea.
So she told her troubles to her doll; and the steady, blue eyes, whichnever winked or softened, brought comfort to her, and seemed to giveher the assurance that she need not be parted from her, even to go toher new home. If she had not had this beloved companion, it would havegone much harder with poor little Lucy.
Our little girls did not see her again; but last autumn, when theywere settled once more in their city home, after all their summerwanderings, Mrs. Gordon wrote to them, saying that Lucy was quitecontented and happy under her care; and that she was a very good child,being trustworthy and obedient, and showing a great desire to learn.
So there we will leave her, hoping that she will, as Maggie says,“prophet by all that is done for her and make a useful and happywoman.” The doll went with her; and all the other toys and amusementswhich were provided for her never made her tired or forgetful of this,her first love, or of the dear little girls who had taken so muchinterest in her.
Our party did not remain long in Savannah, for the weather was becomingwarm and oppressive; but before they went away, they all spent a day onMr. Powers’ plantation.
This was several miles from the city; and starting in the morning,soon after breakfast, they drove out in the cool of the day. Theirway lay through dense pine woods; tall, stately pines, with long,straight trunks; shooting upwards, without leaf or branch, for manya foot, till they neared their height, when they put forth theirdark-green crowns, which cast such a sombre shade below. The shade wasno objection on this warm day, and a light breeze was stirring, whichwas very refreshing; but it sounded rather mournful to Maggie andBessie, as it moaned through the mighty stems, and rustled the thick,fragrant leaves overhead. It has a strange, peculiar sound, the wind inthose dark, pine forests of the South,--a sound rather saddening to anylistener.
Maggie did not like it at all, and said so, which rather displeasedBelle, who, in her delight at returning to her beloved Southern home,found every thing there perfect. However, as they drove on, both Maggieand Bessie spied out so many objects which called forth their surpriseand admiration, that she was presently consoled, and concluded thatthey “liked her own country pretty well, after all.”
Here and there was a magnolia with its magnificent cream-whiteblossoms, their delicious perfume mingling with the fragrance ofthe pines; there a group of scarlet cardinal flowers, or a littlepool bordered with bright blue flags and spotted tiger-lilies; whilethrough the deep stillness of the woods came the sweet notes of theblue-jay and mocking-bird. Once, as they were passing over a bridgewhich crossed a marsh, Maggie called the attention of the others to twoturtles, great big fellows, larger than any the children had ever seenat the North; “swamp turtles” Belle said they were. They scuttled outof the way in their clumsy fashion, diving out of sight into the mud;and Bessie said she thought they must be some of the unclean animalsspoken of in the Bible, since they liked to live in such a dirty place.
The entrance to the plantation was through an avenue of magnificentlive-oaks, some of them so large that two or three men could not haveencircled them with their outstretched arms; and these splendid treeswere studded all over the lawn, spreading far and wide their branches,which, unlike their neighbors the pines, they sent out very low,--sonear the ground in fact, that even Bessie could reach the gray Spanishmoss which hung over them in long festoons and wreaths. The childrenhad seen this curious moss before in the beautiful old cemetery ofBonaventure, where the oaks are perfectly clothed with it; and Bessiehad admired it so much, that Maggie had taken up the idea of carryinghome enough to make “a bower” for her in their own little room. But shethought it best to gain the consent of her father and mother to thisarrangement; not only because it was right, but also because nurse wasrather apt to call such things “truck and trash,” and to put them outof the way as fast as possible. If papa and mamma said they might haveit, nurse might _call_ it what she pleased, but she could not throw itaway.
Mr. Powers stood awaiting them on the steps of the veranda, for he hadbeen at the plantation for three or four days, while Belle and Daphnehad been left in Mrs. Bradford’s charge at the hotel; for he did notthink it best for Belle to sleep on the plantation at that time of theyear.
She shrieked with delight when she saw him; and, in her hurry toreach him, had nearly thrown herself from Daphne’s lap underneath thecarriage-wheels. There would have been an end to the day’s pleasurethen; but Daphne’s hand grasped her skirts, and saved her from aterrible death.
As it was, the whole party were startled; and her father’s face hadlost its smile of welcome, and looked rather pale as he came down thesteps and took her in his arms.
“My pet!” he said, “always in too much of a hurry. This would have beena sad meeting for papa, if you had fallen; but a good God took care ofyou for me.”
Belle clung about his neck and did not speak; for whether it were thefright, or the sight of her father, or the return to the old home whichshe had left at such a sad time, or perhaps all three, her feelingstook a sudden turn, and when Mr. Powers had brought his friends in andwelcomed them, and raised the little face to kiss it again, he found itdrowned in tears.
“Why! my darling,” he said, “were you so frightened?”
“I don’t know, papa,” sobbed the excitable little thing; “but, this ishome--only--only--mamma is not in it.”
Tears, or something very like them, came to the eyes of all, even ofMr. and Mrs. Norris, who had never known Belle’s dead mother; and Mr.Powers turned hastily away, and stepped with her out on the veranda.
“_Only_ mamma was not in it!” Ah, yes! that was the _only_ that madeall the difference in the world, so that home did not seem like homeany longer.
It was some few moments before either of them were composed enough toreturn; and when Mr. Powers came back he was alone, and told Bessiethat Belle wanted her to go to her.
Bessie went out upon the veranda, which ran on all four sides of thehouse, and around the corner she found Belle curled up on a setteewhere her father had placed her. She stretched out her arms to Bessiewhen she saw her, saying,--
“Bessie, I do remember mamma so much in my home, and you are a comfit.You are my next best comfit to papa, ever since the first day you spoketo me in school.”
This was a pleasant thing for Bessie to hear; but she put aside her ownpleasure for the present, and thought only of being the “comfit” herpoor little friend called her. I wonder if there was any one among allthe people who knew her, who could have said that our dear Bessie wasnot more or less of a comfort to them.
Her sweet sympathy and gentle tenderness soon did Belle good, andBessie let her talk on about her mother as long as she would.
Belle had been very bright and cheerful lately,--thanks to the friendswith whom she had been so much thrown,--and it was a good while sinceshe had had a fit of longing for
her mother; but the coming to her homehad brought her great loss back to her, and just now she could think ofnothing else.
“Do you know where they put my mamma before she went to heaven?” saidBelle.
“No. Where?” answered Bessie.
“Do you see those high trees over there, Bessie? They put her wherelittle brother and sister are, and ever so many grandpas and grandmas.”
“But they didn’t put her soul there,” said Bessie.
“No,” said Belle, “’cause that was God’s part, and it went to him.And then she couldn’t speak or hear me or see me, but was all deadedaway; and so they put the rest of her over there, and put a great manyflowers over her. But that was a long, long while ago, before I wentaway to the North, and I didn’t see where they put mamma this ever solong. Maybe the flowers are all faded. Will you come and see, Bessie?”
“We must ask mamma or your papa first,” said Bessie.
“They would let us,” said Belle: “it’s a very safe place. I used tooften go there when mamma was alive, to be by little brother andsister, and she is there now. There couldn’t any danger come to uswhere mamma is: could there, Bessie?”
“No: I guess not,” said Bessie. “I s’pose mother-angels take care oftheir little children. I’ll go with you, Belle dear, if you’re quitesure your papa will let us.”
“I know he would, Bessie; and I’d just as lief ask him; only thenMaggie and Lily will come too. I’d like Maggie to come, but Lily laughsso much. I love Lily; but I don’t want any one to laugh where my mammais dead.”
“No,” said Bessie, with the most caressing tenderness of tone andmanner, “they shan’t; and I’ll go, Belle.”
With their arms about one another’s necks, the two little things randown the piazza steps, and the shady path, through which Belle led theway; but as they came near the small burying-ground, their steps grewslow and more reverent.
It was an exquisite spot. An iron railing enclosed it, but the railswere hidden by the green vines which overran them, and within it wasbeautifully sodded; the green broken here and there by the whitemarble monuments and slabs which marked the resting-place of Belle’srelations. Flowers of the loveliest kinds were blossoming over andaround them, and all showed the utmost care and loving remembrance.Over the entrance was an arch, also of white marble, and on the stonewere cut the words, “He giveth His beloved sleep.”
“How sweet it is!” exclaimed Bessie, struck at once with the lovelyquiet and peace of the place; and then she looked up and spelled outthe letters on the arch.
“Sleep! that was what mamma said: it was only like a sleep if we lovedJesus and tried to do what He wanted us to, and I think it must meanHim when it says, ‘giveth His beloved sleep.’ What dear words! are theynot, Belle?”
“Yes,” said Belle, but without paying much attention to what Bessie wassaying, for her eye had caught sight of a new object in the enclosure.
“See!” she went on, catching Bessie by the arm: “there’s a stone therewhere they put mamma;” and drawing Bessie with her, she pushed open thelight gate.
It swung easily back, for it was unfastened. There were none here tointrude, no one came here who would not guard with the greatest loveand reverence the little spot sacred to “His beloved.”
“His beloved!” For of those who lay there, not one but had closedtheir eyes in the full faith that they should open them again upon thebrightness of His face. Truly that was “God’s Acre.”
The “stone” which had attracted Belle’s attention was a shaft of purewhite marble upon her mother’s grave. The centre had been cut away soas to leave four small arches, one on each side, and beneath there wasa cross, with the letters “I. H. S.;” before that an open Bible, withthe words, “I will not leave you comfortless.”
The sculptor had done his work perfectly; and the snowy marble showedin beautiful contrast with the dark, glossy leaves of the bay treewhich spread its arms above it.
“Papa put it there, I know he did,” said Belle, after she and Bessiehad stood looking at it in silence for a moment or two.
“Yes: I s’pose he did,” said Bessie: “let’s see what these words are,Belle.”
By standing on tiptoe, the little ones could manage to see the letterscarved upon the book; and Bessie read them out as she had done thoseover the gateway.
“‘I will not leave you comfortless,’” Belle repeated after her. “Why!mamma said that herself a little while before she went to heaven. Maybethat was why papa put it there.”
“And Jesus said it,” replied Bessie. “It’s in the Bible, in a chapterI’ve heard very often. Don’t you remember, Belle? It begins, ‘Letnot your heart be troubled;’ and Jesus said it Himself. Perhaps thereason He told people not to be troubled was He was going to promise tocomfort them when they had something very bad to bear. It’s the bestcomfort to know He loves you and will take you to heaven to see yourmamma some day: isn’t it, Belle?”
“He will if I’m good,” passing her little hand slowly and caressinglyover the marble; “but then I’m not always good.”
“No,” said Bessie, “not always; but mamma said you was not near sospoiled as you used to be. I think you’re pretty good now, Belle.”
“I slapped Daphne’s face this morning,” whispered Belle, remorsefully.
“Oh! did you?” said Bessie. “Well, Belle, I used to slap peoplesometimes, even when I had mamma to teach me better, and there was noexcuse for me.”
“But my own mamma _did_ teach me better, Bessie. I slap Daphne prettyoften, but she never tells papa; and I promise myself I’ll never do itagain, and then I just do.”
“Did you ever promise Jesus and ask Him to help you not to do it?”asked Bessie.
“No,” answered Belle. “I didn’t think of it. I could do it now,couldn’t I?”
“Yes,” said Bessie.
They knelt down together side by side, and Belle said in a soft butsteady voice, for her tears had now ceased,--
“Dear Jesus, I promise not to slap Daphne any more, or not to benaughty any more if I can help it; and you will help me to be good.Amen.”
Then pressing her lips to the cold stone, as if it were the warm,living cheek she had once caressed, she said in a pleading, patheticwhisper,--
“Dear mamma, your little Belle will try to be just as good as you wouldwant her to be if you were here wif her.”
Will any doubt that the “mother-angel” heard and rejoiced over thesimple promise uttered by her little one’s trusting lips?
“Do you think it really makes Jesus glad when I’m good?” asked Belle,when they had risen from their knees.
“Oh! to be sure it does,” answered Bessie.
“And He _did_ leave me some comfit: didn’t He, Bessie? He left me papa,and He gave me you and Maggie too; and your mamma is a great comfittoo.”
“Mamma’s the best comfort of anybody,” said Bessie.
“Oh, no, Bessie! oh, no! Papa best--you next.”
Bessie did not contradict her, though she thought it a very strangeopinion for Belle to hold, and was not at all convinced herself.
“I wish papa was here to stay with me by mamma a little while,” saidBelle, presently.
“Shall I go ask him to come?” asked Bessie.
“Yes,” said Belle. “Do you know the way?”
“Oh, yes! It’s right up that path, isn’t it?”
Then she kissed Belle and left her, turning back as she passed throughthe gate, to look at her little playmate sitting by her mother’s graveand leaning her head pensively against the monument. But Belle smiledas she met Bessie’s eye, and the little girl felt that she had notbeen left quite “comfortless.” Her own heart was very full of love andsympathy.
Bessie ran up the path till she was nearly half way to the house, whenshe was brought to a sudden stand-still by what she thought a veryalarming object. Just before her was a large black dog, broad-chested,tall, and fierce-looking, standing directly in the path, and seeming asthough he meant
to dispute the way.
Bessie’s heart was in her mouth and her knees shook; but she did notscream. She looked at the dog and he looked at her, but he did not barkor growl. Then she found her voice, and tried what coaxing would do.
“Nice doggie, nice little doggie,” she said to the great creature.“Does little doggie want Bessie to go away? Well, she will. But thenthe good little fellow mustn’t bark at Bessie and frighten her.”
Bessie had an idea that her seeming enemy could bite as well as bark ifhe saw fit occasion; but she did not think it wisest to suggest it tohim.
It must have been a hard-hearted dog, indeed, which could have resistedthat insinuating voice and smile, and either bark or bite; and this onedid not seem inclined to do the one or the other; but then neither didhe seem to intend to move out of the path, but stood stock still gazingat his unwilling little companion.
Seeing that he appeared peaceable, Bessie took courage, and, edging offupon the grass, went a few steps forward. But as she passed the dog, heturned and placed himself before her, though still without any show ofattacking her.
Bessie was pretty well frightened; but she began her wiles again,talking to him as she would have done to Baby Annie or Flossy.
“Poor fellow! nice doggie. Bessie wouldn’t hurt little doggie for anything. Doggie, doggie, doggie! He’ll let Bessie go to the house, won’the? Don’t he want to go and see Belle down there?”
Now you must not think that Bessie wanted to save herself by exposingher little friend; for she knew that this must be Duke, the greatEnglish blood-hound, of which Belle had often spoken, saying how lovingand good Duke was to her, although he was fierce and unfriendly withstrangers.
But no, all coaxing proved useless: the dog stood his ground and wouldnot suffer her to pass, even giving a low growl and seizing the skirtof her dress when she tried once more to do so.
Bessie was dreadfully frightened, and was about to call aloud for help,when she saw Mr. Powers coming towards her from the house. As he camedown the path, a great snake glided from beneath some low bushes onthe other side, passed swiftly over the narrow path, and would havebeen out of sight in an instant, had not the dog, suddenly all alert,bounded forward, seized it by the back of the neck, and giving it aviolent shake, left it lying dead.
“How is this, dear child?” said Mr. Powers, looking from the dog andsnake to the child. “Old Ben told me he had seen you and Belle going tothe burying-ground. Where is Belle?”
“Yes, sir, we did,” answered Bessie; “and Belle is there now, waitingfor you to come to her mamma’s grave. I was just coming to tell you,and that dog stopped me. He’s a pretty naughty dog; he wouldn’t let mego on, and he killed the poor snake that did not do a bit of harm, butwas just running away as fast as he could.”
“Duke knew he would do harm if he but found the chance, my child,”said Mr. Powers. “That is a very venomous snake, and the dog’s caremay have saved you from being badly bitten. Good Duke! brave fellow!”and Mr. Powers patted the dog’s head. “It is years and years sincewe have seen a snake of this kind upon the plantation, and I hope itmay be long before we see another. You and Belle have each escaped agreat danger this morning, Bessie. I am glad too that old Duke was notbitten.”
Bessie was very grateful to Duke now, and she too patted and caressedhim. He seemed to think himself, that he had performed a great feat, asindeed he had; and kept looking up at his master and thrusting his noseinto his hand as if to call for more thanks. Bessie’s attentions hereceived more coolly, though he permitted them.
“Run up to the house now, you steady little woman,” said Mr. Powers:“your mother is wondering where you can be, though she said you were tobe trusted not to get into mischief. It is a good thing to have such acharacter, Bessie.”
When Duke saw that Bessie and his master were going in differentdirections, he seemed to be divided in his own mind as to which one hehad better accompany. But after looking from one to the other he seemedto decide that Bessie needed his protection, and trotted gravely alongby her side till she reached the house, when he turned about and racedafter his master.
Bessie went in and told her story, but so simply and with so littlefuss that her mother had no idea of the danger she had been in, tillMr. Powers came with Belle and told how she, as well as Belle, had beenmercifully preserved from harm that morning.
When Belle came back with her father, she was quite composed, and soonbecame cheerful again, though she was rather more quiet than usual allthe morning.
As soon as the party were rested after their drive, they all went outfor a walk about the place. Mr. Powers’ estate was a rice plantation,and the children were greatly interested in going through the millsand seeing how the rice, so familiar to them as an article of food, wasprepared for the market. They were particularly so, in watching thehusking of the rice. The grain was stored on the second story of thebuildings, in great boxes or bins. There was a little sliding-door ineach of these, just above the bottom of the bin; and when the men wereready to go to work, a trough was placed leading from that, througha trap-door, to a hopper on the floor below. Then the bin door wasopened, and the rice in its brown husks slid through the trough intothe hopper beneath, and from thence into the mill, on each side ofwhich stood a man who turned the arms of the mill. In this, the outerhusk was stripped from the rice; then it passed through another wide,covered trough, into the sifting or winnowing machine. This was a largebox with a wheel at the bottom which turned the rice over and over. Asit came to the top, the chaff was blown away by a great “four sidedfan,” as Bessie called it, made of four pieces of canvas stretched indifferent directions, and fixed upon a roller which was turned roundby a man, and fanned away the light husks broken from the grain on itspassage through the mill. But this was only the outer husk; and it hadto go down a third trough into another mill, where the inner coveringwas taken off; then through a second fanning machine, from which itcame out clean and white; and lastly into a third building, where itwas led into another range of bins, till it should be necessary to putit into the bags and barrels in which it was sent to market.
Maggie, as usual, wanted to “help;” and the good-natured colored menwho were about let her try her hand at just what she chose, providedit was safe for her. Indeed, all the children, even Belle, to whomthe amusement was not new, were greatly pleased to pull up thesliding panels of the bins, and see the rice come pouring down intothe mill-hopper, and to thrust their hands and arms into the whitegrain, and shovel it into the bags. So entertained were they withthis business, that the older people walked on when they had satisfiedtheir own curiosity, leaving the children in the care of old Cato, whopromised to see that they came to no harm.
“We’ve done a whole lot of work, Mr. Powers,” said Maggie, when theywere called back to the house to dinner. “I think your men must bepretty glad we came.”
“Yes,” said Lily: “we’ve most filled two bags and a barrel.”
“And we didn’t spill very much either,” said Bessie, who was at thatmoment laboring away with a wooden shovel, on which she contrived totake up about two table-spoonsful of rice.
“Capital!” said Mr. Powers: “you’ve earned your dinner to-day, have younot?”
Whether the dinners were fairly earned or no, the exercise had giventhem all good appetites, and they were not sorry to go in and taketheir seats at the well-furnished table.