Bertie and the Gardeners; or, The Way to be Happy Read online

  "La, no; I don't s'pose he knew hisself. He had a stick over hisshoulder, and his bundle hung on the end on't, and that's all I cantell ye."

  The boy turned without a word, and walked away. He knew now why hisfather came to the farm again so soon after his first visit; and whyhe consented so easily that the Squire should send him to school. Hehad resolved to quit his old home forever.

  All this he told Mrs. Taylor that night, and ended with a sigh.

  "I don't suppose he and I shall ever see each other again. He wasn'tso bad till mammy came."

  About a week after he reached the school, his teacher wrote Mr.Curtis,

  "Patrick Riley arrived here a few days after the term commenced, and has conducted himself in such a manner as to win the approbation of all his teachers. I agree with you, that he will make a smart man; and from present appearances, I hope also, a useful one. I mentioned to him that I intended to write you, and was gratified to notice that he is not destitute of gratitude for all you have done to improve his condition. He requested me to express his thanks, also to your son, who he says first awoke in him a desire to become an honest boy, and likewise to Mrs. Taylor. Patrick is taking hold of his lessons with a will, and hopes to write you soon.

  "Respectfully yours,

  "JOHNATHAN HAVEN."

  This letter was read with great interest by all the family; but therewas no one who rejoiced so much at Pat's good conduct as Bertie.

  Mrs. Curtis was greatly affected the night following to hear thelittle boy thank God for helping Pat to be good and obey thecommandments.

  About a fortnight later, Whitefoot stopped at the village post office,and Bertie jumped from his carriage and ran in with a package ofletters for the mail.

  "Look here!" exclaimed the girl, who delivered letters. "Is this foryou?"

  The child glanced at it, laughing and blushing. It was a curiousshaped epistle, almost square, without an envelope, the name being arough imitation of printing, and spelled Birty Kertis, Oxford; careSquier Kertis.

  "I think it must be intended for you," said the girl, with an archglance. "It is post-marked Lexington."

  "Oh, yes, it's mine!" exclaimed the boy. "It's from Pat Riley, I guesshe wrote it himself."

  It was indeed from Patrick. I do not think my readers could decipherit, if I copied the curious spelling, I shall, therefore, give it asMrs. Curtis, after considerable study, read it to Bertie.

  "DEAR FRIEND:--There's a big boy here as knows how to write tip-top. I and Tip (that's his name) are the most popular boys in school. He's agreed to write this letter for me, 'cause I want ye to know how I'm getting on; and there's something I want to tell ye awful bad, 'cause I know ye'll like it. You was the first one that ever spoke encouraging to me, and I'll never forget it of ye as long as I know myself, nor then either. I'm going to try and be a Squire like your pa; and then I'll take all the little thieving fellows I can find, and help 'em to be good. Rich folks don't know how hard 'tis for poor ones to keep from stealin' when their stomach is as flimpsy as a rag. I know how to pity 'em, for when mammy locked me up till I'd agree to steal again, there was such a gnawing and gnawing, that I should have give in, if it hadn't been for you.

  "Every time, I'd say to myself, I can't stand it no longer; then I'd see you a-sitting in your donkey carriage, looking at me with such sorry eyes.

  "But that isn't what I was going to tell yer; and Tip is getting tired writing such a lot of stuff. I've begun to be a soldier, I don't wear any uniform except a little blue star on my coat; but everybody knows by this, that I'm trying to fight against all my old habits. It's hard work I tell you. 'Tisn't as if I was at Mrs. Taylor's, with everybody helping me, and nothing to make me cross. There's lots of bad boys here, who won't join the company of soldiers, and they do everything they can to hinder and bother us. I'm most afraid to tell yer one thing, for fear ye'll think Tip and I are better than we are. We've begun to pray God to help us, and it does come a sight easier to do as we oughter.

  "If ever ye see anything of my poor old father, I'd like him to know that I pray for him whenever I do for myself. I shouldn't wonder if I should get so I could forgive mammy sometime. Perhaps she didn't know any better.

  "Your true friend,

  "PATRICK RILEY."

  CHAPTER IX.

  BERTIE'S SPELLING MATCH.

  Early in November, Mr. Curtis removed his family to Woodlawn; andBertie commenced attending school. It was too far for him to walk, andnow he found Whitefoot a greater convenience than ever. Close by theschoolhouse lived a farmer by the name of Camp, who readily agreedwith Mr. Curtis to allow the donkey to stand in his barn duringschool hours.

  Miss Esther Taylor, his former teacher, welcomed him back with greatpleasure, for she had learned to love him like a brother. His healthhad now greatly improved by so much exercise in the open air, and heresolved to study hard through all the winter months.

  I suppose there are many children more forward in their lessons thanhe was; but he had laid a good foundation for an education. He couldread correctly, and with expression, and had begun Colburn's MentalArithmetic. In geography he had only learned the general divisions ofthe globe, and had begun to draw upon his slate, islands, lakes,capes, peninsulas, etc., which greatly helped him to understand theexplanations in his book.

  In spelling, Bertie was rather backward, not being quick to learn thesounds of which the word was composed.

  Miss Taylor was resolved her pupils should excel in arithmetic andspelling. In order to excite their ambition she allowed them twice aweek to have what is called a spelling-match.

  Two boys or two girls among the best spellers were chosen alternatelyby vote of the scholars, and these called out from among their matesthe names of those they wished on their side. Of course each onewished the best spellers, in order that his side might win the prize,and as poor Bertie generally failed, he was left out.

  After this had occurred two or three times, the little fellow began tofeel mortified; and one night said to his mamma,--

  "Will you please buy me a satchel? I'm going to bring home myspelling-book every night; and I can't carry it very well onWhitefoot's back, without it's in a satchel."

  Mrs. Curtis left the room, and presently returned with a small leatherbag, to which a strap was attached.

  "Will this do?" she asked.

  "Oh, yes, mamma! that is just what I wanted."

  After this, mamma, and papa, and Mrs. Dodge, and Nellie, and Bertie,and Nancy had a great many spelling-matches, the rule being that everyone who pronounced the word must do so with the greatest distinctness,so that every letter as far as possible should be articulated.

  Before the winter was past, Bertie's dislike to his spelling-book waswholly conquered, and he was called as often as any scholar to tryfor the prize in the spelling-match.

  This was the first winter the children had ever passed in the country.When the snow began to fall, Winnie was delighted, and went out tocatch the flakes on a piece of paper.

  Their house was of a June temperature, while the new conservatoryfurnished bouquets and cut flowers in abundance.

  It was not the intention of Mr. and Mrs. Curtis to keep aloof from thevillagers. Indeed, by this time, the Oxford people well understoodthat the Squire and his wife were ready to befriend them whenever theywere in distress.

  The gentleman taught a class in the Sabbath School, composed ofmarried ladies who had never before been members.

  Mrs. Taylor, who was one of the class, often remarked she would ariselong before light rather than to lose the opportunity of hearing theBible explained in the simple, practical way the Squire performed theservice.

  It was a happy day for the good pastor of Oxford when Mr. Curtispurchased his farm at Woodlawn. From their fir
st introduction, thehearts of these truly Christian persons were drawn toward each other.They were working in the same cause to win souls to the Saviour whomthey loved. One was rich, and the other comparatively poor; but bothhad consecrated themselves and all that they possessed, to theSaviour, who had bought them with his precious blood; and both desiredso to live and to train their families, that when lying on the bed ofdeath, they might say with Paul,--"I have fought a good fight; I havefinished my course; I have kept the faith; henceforth there is laid upfor me a crown of righteousness."

  CHAPTER X.

  BERTIE'S PRESENTS.

  Christmas Day dawned clear and cold. As soon as it was light enough tosee across the chamber Bertie crept from his bed toward the window,where on one of the knobs belonging to the shutters, he could see ahuge stocking tied by a string, and stuffed to its utmost capacity.

  The little fellow laughed heartily as he felt of the stocking, toascertain what was within it. Then he jumped on a chair, trying totake the sock down, but with a sudden thought,--

  "Winnie would like to see me take the things out," he leaped into bedagain, and began in his childish way to guess what presents he hadreceived, and who they were from.

  "I wonder whether I shall have a new Bible," he said half aloud, "Ihad a Bible last year from mamma; but no, I don't think she'll giveme another, because she said she hoped that one would last me for along time."

  Presently he heard some little feet pattering along the hall, and thenWinnie's bright face peeped into the room.

  "Dit up, Bertie," she said, laughing, and showing all her white teeth."Dit up, and have a merry Tismus."

  "Oh, Winnie darling, I hope you'll have many merry Christmases! Nowlet's go and see papa and mamma, and then when Nancy has dressed you,I'll show you my presents."

  "Law!" exclaimed Nancy, raising her hands, "you don't mean to say youhaven't taken down your stocking. What would Saint Nick say?"

  "I know who Saint Nick is," Bertie answered, with a merry laugh. "It'smamma, I saw her last year come creeping softly into my room in thecity, and hang it up. I'd rather have mamma than anybody, because sheknows what I would like."

  "Well, dear, hurry and dress. Your mamma isn't awake yet; and thenyou can show us your presents."

  "Did you give me anything, nurse?"

  "I! what a question!" she exclaimed, in pretended horror.

  "But I think you did, because when I went to the nursery of a suddenlast night, you threw your apron over something you was working, andyou looked ever so queer."

  "Why, Bertie, I never thought you watched me so, I must be carefulwhat I do. Well, supposing I did, what should you like best?"

  "A ball for Winnie and I to play in the house with. One that would notbreak the windows, I mean."

  Nurse laughed and looked wise, and then left the room. Soon afterBertie finished dressing, and ran to wish mamma and papa a "MerryChristmas."

  "Well, my son, has St. Nick crept down your chimney?" asked papadirecting an arch glance at his wife.

  "My St. Nick has," was the boy's answer, as he kissed his mamma.

  "What was in the stocking, then? I think it's very strange no one hunga stocking for me."

  "What is that over yonder, Lawrence?" asked the lady, laughing.

  "Ah, a stocking for me! that is more than I expected. Well, now I'msatisfied that's a joke; and I shall find nothing in it but paper."

  "I'll run and get mine, and then we'll look over our presentstogether," said Bertie, in great glee.

  Winnie now came in bringing a doll almost as large as herself. It wasmade of kid, with a porcelain face, and had dresses which could betaken off or put on at pleasure. This was given her by Mrs. Dodge andthe clothes by Nelly.

  With a loud shout Bertie pulled out a small box in which was agingerbread man riding on a donkey. "I know where that came from veryquick," he said. "It smells just like Mrs. Taylor's gingerbread. Oh,isn't it funny?"

  "It is a very striking resemblance of you and Whitefoot," remarkedpapa, trying to look grave, at which everybody laughed heartily.

  Next came a small package tied with red cord, which contained--what doyou imagine? Why, a nightcap, with cook's compliments.

  It was found to be a perfect fit, and mamma told him it would keep hishair from being so snarled in the morning.

  A pretty ball, just such as Bertie had caught a glimpse of underNancy's apron was next brought to view, which so much delighted himthat he dropped the stocking and began to toss it at once.

  There was a gift from Miss Lerow of a beautiful pair of reins, knit ofbright worsted and ornamented with little bells. But what pleased himperhaps more than everything else, was a jack-knife from Edward Torreywith the words, "To the forgiving boy," marked on the inside of thepasteboard box.

  Old Mrs. Grant had not forgotten to add her gift, which was a pair ofwarm mittens, done up with a nice, knit comforter from Mary JerroldMonsey.

  Altogether it was a great success, and everybody felt very happy.

  CHAPTER XI.

  THE HEART AND HAND.

  "Why don't you open your stocking, papa?" inquired Bertie, when he sawthe gentleman about to leave his chamber.

  "I'll leave that to mamma," he said laughing.

  "But really, Lawrence," she answered, "you might see for yourself.You'll regret it if you don't."

  "Oh, of course, Cecilia, and spoil your joke!" He hesitated a momentbut catching a glimpse of Bertie's anxious face, he turned backsuddenly, and took down the stocking from the hook.

  Putting his hand cautiously into the top, as if he were afraid ofbeing bitten, at which the children shouted with laughter, he pulledforth a nicely rolled package, the outside of which he most carefullyexamined with his fingers.

  "Very fine!" he exclaimed, with a quick glance at his wife. "It is adoughnut, I presume."

  "Doughnuts are not to be despised when they are given to expressaffection," she answered, gravely.

  "Well," he said, laying the package on his knees, "I'll see what elsethere is. I may find a solitary raisin enveloped in a pound or two ofpaper."

  "Oh, papa, you're too funny!" shouted Bertie.

  "Quick, Lawrence, the bell will ring for breakfast presently."

  He drew cautiously from the stocking a small box, tied and sealedwith wax.

  "All very grand," he began, with a shrug of the shoulders, when hiswife caught it from his hands.

  "Open the other, first," she said.

  He tore off the paper, and presently came to a note addressed to"Lawrence Curtis, Esq." in a beautifully neat hand. Opening itcautiously, he glanced at the bottom, and saw the names of his entireclass, when his countenance changed at once.

  "Really," he said, "I had no idea of this," reading aloud, "'Will ourdear teacher please accept the enclosed slippers as a trifling tokenof our gratitude?'

  "They are beautiful! very tasteful; exactly what I wanted! I must havethem made up at once. Oh! here is the cash for that purpose! Well, myfriends, I'm very grateful. Now I'm encouraged to try again," takingup the box, and quizzically glancing into the blushing face beforehim.

  It contained a watch-chain of exquisite workmanship, manufactured ofhair and gold, attached to which was an ornament in the shape of aheart, and a key in the form of a hand.

  "My heart and my hand are all I have to give," she whispered, kissinghis forehead, while a tear glistened in her eye. "The chain was madefrom the hair you cut from my head when I was so very sick."

  He raised the precious token to his lips, exclaiming with greattenderness, "I shall wear it as long as I live. What would the worldbe to me, Cecilia, without your heart and hand?"

  There was a service in the church at ten, and at noon all the reallyaged people in the parish had been invited to a dinner at Woodlawn.

  "I want to have a regular house-warming," Mr. Curtis had said to hiswife. "I want to warm it with the good will of all our villagers." Soit was decided that the old people should come to dinner, the marriedpersons and children to tea
, and the young people of both sexes in theevening.

  I wish I could paint a picture of the happy faces that gathered aroundthe festal board during that lovely Christmas Day. There was the goodpastor and his family improving this pleasant occasion to speak a wordhere and there as it was needed among their flock. There were Mr. andMrs. Hunt, leading Susy who had just returned from the hospital. Therewas Thomas Grant, his face red as a beet, gallanting a very sensiblelooking girl who was soon to become his wife. There were swarms ofladdies and lasses, kept in constant good humor by Albert Dodge, whohad returned to Oxford for the occasion. There were groups ofchildren headed by Bertie, playing all sorts of games, or gathering ina circle around the Squire, who told them funny stories.

  "You have learned the secret of living," remarked the Pastor, when hecame to take leave. "In promoting the happiness and welfare of thoseabout us we ensure our own."

  "That is the rule by which my wife is training our boy," answered thegentleman. "No other house-warming could have pleased us so well asthis."

  CHAPTER XII.

  VIOLETS AND VIOLETTA.

  When spring came, Bertie went one morning into his mamma's chamberwith a bunch of the earliest violets.

  The curtains were dropped before the large bay window, and though itwas not cold a pleasant fire crackled in the open grate.

  "Why, mamma, are you sick?" Bertie asked, running quickly to the sideof the bed.

  "Have you seen papa?" said mamma, smiling. "He went out to tell you Ihave a present for you."