Uncle Rutherford's Nieces Part 4

But the two good Samaritans, as they afterwards reported, were not so appalled by the state of things at the Yorkes' cottage, as Mr.

Winston's tale had prepared them to be. Perhaps matters had improved since he had left two hours since, or the stricken family had at once accommodated themselves to the change in their circ.u.mstances. Certain it is that aunt Emily and Milly found peace and serenity reigning: Mrs.

Yorke with the little cripple in her capacious lap, coddling and petting her as the good soul well knew how to do; the captain piloting the blind child about the house and garden, familiarizing him with different objects, by which he might learn his own way about by his acute sense of touch; the youngest--a teething, not consumptive, baby--fast asleep; and even the recalcitrant "Matildy Jane" tolerably pleasant and good-natured beneath the fascinations of a handsome, st.u.r.dy urchin four years old, who, undaunted by her hard face and snappish voice, insisted upon following her around, and "helping" her in her manifold occupations. He was a boy who did not know how to be snubbed, and had fairly won his way with his ungracious aunt, by sheer persistence in his unwelcome attentions. To all her hospitable intimations that he and his family had brought an immense addition to her cares and labors,--which certainly was true,--he opposed smiles and caresses, and a.s.surances that so long as he was there he would share and lighten all these; appearing to think that she complained and scolded only to draw forth his sympathy and aid.

Who could stand out against such a fellow? Not even "Matildy Jane." And she had succ.u.mbed; at least, so far as he was concerned.

The mother of the helpless group, pale, feeble, and careworn though she was, had already shown herself eager to lessen, so far as possible, the burden she had brought upon the family of her husband, and sat peeling potatoes from a huge basket on the one side, while a pan of apples, duly pared and quartered, stood awaiting the oven upon the other.

Plainly Matilda Jane had had no scruples of delicacy in availing herself of the services of her newly arrived sister-in-law.

"What _are_ you going to do with them all, Captain Yorke?" asked Milly, pityingly, as she stood beside the old sailor in the porch, while aunt Emily interviewed Mrs. Yorke and the widow. "This is such a care for you."

"Do with 'em?" repeated the veteran, apparently quite undismayed by the prospect before him. "Waal, I reckon we've got to be eyes an' backs an'

lungs to 'em, for they've run mighty short of them conveniences. Let alone Theodore, an' that feller over there,"--nodding towards the kitchen-door, within which Matilda Jane was to be seen mixing biscuit, with the boy beside her, his round, fat arms up to the elbows in the dough, with which he was bedaubing himself and every thing about him, unrestrained by his subdued aunt,--"let alone that feller over there, there ain't the makin' of a hull one among 'em. I guess they've got to be took care of; an', if the Almighty hadn't a meant us to do it, he wouldn't a sent 'em here. Them's my opinions, an' me an' Mis' Yorke we ain't the ones to throw back his orderin's an' purposin's in his face.

They do seem a bit like a hospital full, though, don't they?" he added, unconsciously expressing Mr. Winston's view of the situation. "Me an'

Mis' Yorke, we foun' out the truth of the Scriptur' sayin', how sharper than an achin' tooth it is to have a thankless child, an' Tom,--I don't min' sayin' it to you,--he _was_ thankless enough, though he's dead an'

gone, an' his old father ain't the one to cast stones at him now. But me an' Mis' Yorke, we don't want to make out the truth of that other Scriptur', that the sins of the father shall be visited on the children,--leastways, not Tom's children; they ain't to blame for his short-comin's; an', meanin' no disrespec' nor onbelief, _that_ Scriptur'

do always seem to me a little hard on the children. Maybe--who knows--them youngsters will ha' brought a blessin' with 'em; an' my opinions is they has, when I see Mis' Yorke a cuddlin' an' croonin'

over that little hunchback. Now she's awful contented an' easy-minded like to have somethin' to pet, for she's allers a hankerin' after babies an' them sort of critters. We was kinder took aback, for sartain, when Maria,--her name's Maria, Tom's widder's is,--when she come right in with the hull crowd followin', an' John Waters' wagon, what they come from the station in, standin' at the gate, an' all the luggage in it; an' them gentlemen was here gettin' bait an' askin' about the fis.h.i.+n', an' Matildy Jane she kinder flew out, an' one of the little ones was hollerin',--an' it was all kinder Bedlamy. But it's all come right now; an' Maria, she's a willin' soul, an' if Jabez," the old man's son-in-law, and a power in the household, "if Jabez an' Charlotte don't be grumpy over it, we'll all get along as pretty as a psalm-book.

Jabez, he an' Charlotte has gone to Millville for the day, an' all this is unbeknownst to them."

Clearly, the captain was somewhat in dread of Jabez and Jabez's opinions; but Milly had no fear that the strangers would be sent adrift in deference to these.

But something must be done to help the old people with the burden which had so suddenly fallen upon them. The gray-haired seaman was comparatively vigorous still, but his sea-faring days were over; and while he had put by a sum sufficient to keep him, his good wife, and "Matildy Jane" in comfort, this unlooked for addition to the family, helpless and crippled as the grandchildren were, would be too great a drain upon his little fund. As this had been placed in father's hands for investment, we knew to a fraction what he had to depend upon, and that it was not enough to provide for all. The st.u.r.dy independence of the captain would no doubt revolt against the idea of receiving any actual pecuniary a.s.sistance, as would that of his wife; but some way must be contrived of lessening their responsibilities and cares. Jabez Strong and his wife must share these, although he might and probably would be "grumpy;" but even then it would be hard to meet all demands, without depriving the old couple of their accustomed comforts. The cheerful, it-will-all-come-right spirit in which they had received the intruders,--_I_ could not look upon them in any other light,--made us all the more anxious to do this; and, before night, Milly and I were exercising our brains with all manner of expedients for accomplis.h.i.+ng it without hurting their pride and their feelings.

Meanwhile, our elders, with less of enthusiasm perhaps, but in a more practical spirit, were considering the same matter; and the little ones, our Allie and Daisy, having also heard of the influx of children at the Yorkes' cottage, had laden themselves with toys and picture-books, and persuaded mammy to escort them thither. Our little sisters had so burdened themselves, that they needed a.s.sistance to transport all these gifts to Captain Yorke's house; and they could not look for any great amount of this from mammy, who had all she could do to convey her own portly person, and the enormous umbrella without which she never stirred, as a possibly needed protection against sun or rain, as the case might be. So they begged that Bill and Jim might act as carriers, coaxing Thomas to spare them from pantry duty,--a matter not attended with much difficulty, as the old butler was only too willing to indulge them on all occasions, even to the length of taking double work on his own shoulders.

They all set forth on their errand of charity in high glee; but Jim returned from the expedition with a face and air of such portentous gravity, so different from his usual happy-go-lucky bearing, that Milly was moved to ask if any thing unpleasant had occurred.

"Captain Yorke nor his folks didn't do nothin', Miss Milly," answered Jim.

"Who, then?" asked Milly.

"Well, no _one_, Miss Milly," he replied. "I was on'y thinkin' what a lot of 'em there was, an' it bothers me."

"So many Yorkes, do you mean?" queried Milly, rather wondering at his evident perturbation.

"Such a many blind an' hunchback an' sick folks," he said; "an' how are they all goin' to be done for. The more you try to do for some of 'em, the more of 'em seem to come up. There's Matty and Tony Blair, who me an Bill has took into our keepin' soon as we get to the city; an' now here comes a Yorke hunchback, an' a Yorke blind, an' a Yorke sick baby, all sudden like; an' I say that's pretty hard on the ole captain. I like the captain firstrate, I do, Miss Milly; an' I don't like to see him put upon that way. Some of us ought to see to 'em for him, but you can't do for all."

"No, Jim," Milly said, soothingly, to the young philanthropist, "we cannot do for all who need; but, if each one does his or her mite, we can among us greatly lighten the load of human suffering; and that is what we must all try to do, without making ourselves unhappy over that which is beyond our reach or means."

"_You_ did a mighty big mite, when you did for Bill an' me, Miss Milly,"

said her pupil and _protege_, looking gratefully at her. "There ain't no halfway 'bout you, Miss Milly. But I would like to help Captain Yorke, if I could; an' I was thinkin', could I do up them sums again 'bout the peanuts, an' get out a share for the Yorkes."

Milly laughed, for she had heard of Jim's plans, and of the various objects which were to be benefited by the "peanut-undertaking;" and, as frequent new claims and claimants appeared to share in the profits, she argued that the proportion of each would be small.

"Jim," she said, "I think I would not undertake to help the Yorkes as well as all the other people you have upon your list. They shall not be allowed to suffer, you may be sure; Mr. Rutherford and Mr. Livingstone will see to that."

"Miss Milly," he answered, reproachfully, "I on'y didn't reckon up Captain Yorke an' his folks before, 'cause they hadn't need of it. Now they will, with all that raft of broke-up children on 'em; an' do you think I'd go to pa.s.sin' 'em over when they was so good to me? No, that I wouldn't; I ain't never goin' to forget how Mis' Yorke nussed me, an'

made much of me, when I was sick there in her house; an' they were good to me, too, when I was a little chap, an' got s.h.i.+pwrecked on to the sh.o.r.e. Miss Milly, do you know,"--hesitatingly,--"I'd liever take some out of the 'lection expenses share, than to pa.s.s over the Yorkes. I would, really, Miss Milly."

Truly, our Milly was reaping a rich fruit of generosity, loyalty, and earnest endeavor, from the seed of self-sacrifice and charity which she herself had shown in faith and hope. And this, too, in ground which the on-lookers had judged to be so hardened and stony that no harvest was to be gathered therefrom. Oh, my Milly, sweet soul,

"Great feelings hath she of her own, Which lesser souls may never know."

CHAPTER IV.

"FOOD FOR THE G.o.dS."

Behold our household now settled in our city home,--our summer by the sea, with all its many pleasures, and its measure of perplexities and anxieties, a thing of the past; our stay at Oaklands, where papa had enjoyed himself to his heart's content, all the more for his enforced absence of the previous months, also over; and the different members of the family, according to his or her individual taste, occupied with divers plans and projects for the winter's duties and diversions.

In view of certain contingencies which were likely to arise in the future,--father and mother said in the _far_ future; and, indeed, although it was pleasant to contemplate them from a distant standpoint, I was in no haste to leave my dearly beloved home,--in view of these, and with the comfort and well-being of a certain young man before my eyes, to say nothing of my own pride in my housekeeping capabilities, I had chosen to enlist myself as a member of a "cooking-cla.s.s." Said cooking-cla.s.s was to meet once a week, in the afternoon, at the house of each member, in turn, when we were to try our maiden hands on the composition of any such dishes as we might choose; after which, certain martyrs--namely, the aforesaid young man, and sundry of his friends and a.s.sociates--were to be allowed to join us, and, in case they were not too fearful of consequences, to test the results of our efforts. Milly, who had a regular engagement for the afternoon appointed, was not able to aid in the culinary efforts, but pleaded, that, as she contributed a sister, she might be allowed to join the later entertainment of the evening. And the plea was considered all sufficient, for who would not choose Milly when she might be had? So said Bessie Sandford, our inseparable friend and intimate; and there was no dissenting voice among the gay circle of girls.

She did not intend, however, to be without her share in the flesh-pots which were to furnish the more substantial part of the entertainment; and having a natural gift for cooking,--a faculty in which I was altogether wanting,--she promised to prepare some dainty dish beforehand, and send it as her share in the feast.

My last essay in that line had been in the shape of some gingerbread, of which article of diet father was very fond, and I had exerted my energies on his behalf. When it was presented at the Sunday-evening tea-table, the family, excepting papa, contented themselves with viewing it respectfully from a distance; even old Thomas, as he pa.s.sed the plate, regarding it doubtfully and askance.

Father heroically endeavored to taste it; but mother, whose regard for his physical well-being outweighed even her consideration for my feelings, protested; and, with an air of relief, he obeyed the suggestion.

"What did you say it is? Ginger _bricks_?" asked Douglas.

I took no notice of this, but later bade Thomas take all the gingerbread down-stairs.

"Yes, Miss," he answered, with an "I wouldn't care if I were you" sort of an air; and the gingerbread disappeared. The next morning, however, as I went to the store-room to execute some small order for mother, our old cook confronted me.

"Miss Amy," she said, "whatever will I do with that gingerbread? There isn't one in the kitchen will touch it, not even them b'ys; an' all's mostly grist that comes to their mills."

"Oh, give it away to any one that comes," I answered indifferently, and concealing, as I best might, my chagrin at this added mortification.

But later in the day, Allie and Daisy, returning from their walk with mammy, rushed into the house in a state of frantic indignation.

"Amy, Amy," they cried; "Mary Jane gave your gingerbread to a tramp, and he looked at it and smelled it and tasted it, and then just laid it on the area steps and ran away. And Jim saw him; and he picked up the gingerbread, and broke it by throwing it on the sidewalk, and then threw the pieces at the tramp; and one hit him, and it was so hard it seemed to hurt him, but he just ran all the faster."

From that time, more than a year since, I had forsworn all manner of cooking, but now it seemed to me that the exigencies of the case required me to turn my thoughts to the matter; hence, when it was proposed, I had been only too ready to join the cooking-cla.s.s.

The lady who had, from pure love of her kind, and a special interest in young girls, undertaken to superintend and direct our efforts, was an old friend of my mother and aunt Emily; the dearest, the sweetest, the most guileless, of maiden ladies, with a simplicity and lack of worldly knowledge which were almost childlike, but very talented, and with a mind intelligent and cultivated to an unusual degree.

She was also famous among us for all kinds of handiwork,--for the delicious cakes, soups, and all manner of dishes which she could concoct; for her painting and drawing, and her exquisite and original fancy-work. Simple, although delicate, in her tastes, her personal wants were but few; and being possessed of a small income, which placed her beyond the need of employing her varied talents on her own behalf, she delighted in turning them to account for others. She stood singularly alone, with no direct family ties or responsibilities; and probably no human being but herself ever knew the amount of work accomplished by those slender, high-bred looking hands for the benefit and delight of others. The beautiful paintings and embroideries which she sent to the various societies for art work, and which were always accepted without demur, meeting as they did with an ever ready sale, brought their profits, not to her, but to others less gifted and more needy than herself. And many a dainty trifle wrought by her graced some sick-room, or home of straitened means, where there was neither time nor talent to be given for such adornment.

Careless as to the prevailing mode, although exceedingly neat about her own personal attire, she was somewhat quaint and old-fas.h.i.+oned in appearance; at least, she had been until a short time since, when Milly and I, with Bessie Sandford, who was also a distant relation of Miss Craven's, had taken her in hand, and by dint of a little teasing, and much persistence and coaxing, had induced her to submit herself to our dictation in the matter of dress. But she could not, quite yet, reconcile herself to our requirements; at least, not without a little flutter and protest against such innovations as we insisted upon,--against tied-back skirts, hair a little more in the fas.h.i.+on than she had been accustomed to wear hers, and collars and fichus of a more modern date:

Hearing, the dear soul, that certain of our circle of girls were anxious to attain some practical knowledge of cooking, and to attach to the acquisition of that knowledge such "fun" as we might, she had offered, when applied to for certain of her receipts, to instruct the cla.s.s which we were desirous of forming. The offer was eagerly seized upon, and so it came to pa.s.s that she had been installed as teacher and director of the mysteries in which we were about to dabble.

Miss Craven,--"cousin Serena," as we always called her--had been one of the warmest advocates of Milly's cause, when that young woman was intent on taking upon herself the charge of Bill and Jim; and, had Milly not been allowed to do so, I think that she would have undertaken it herself. She was continually making little gifts to these boys, not always, it is true, just adapted to their needs or to their fancies; but they had the grace, rough as their antecedents had been, to appreciate the kindness which prompted them; and their room in the stable was decked with many a little bit of ornamentation bestowed by her. For one of her pet theories was, that one could educate the ma.s.ses to a refining love of art, if one only kept such elevating influences constantly before them.

The first meeting of the cooking-cla.s.s was held at our house. Most of the girls were content to try their hands on this occasion on some simple dish; but I--more ambitious, and also for excellent reasons of my own--had determined to provide a certain delicate and highly flavored cream. In order that there might be no failure in this, and that I might, by an unqualified success, retrieve my reputation, I surrept.i.tiously sought in advance two or three private lessons from Miss Craven. These she was only too ready to give; and after practising at home, closely following her directions, and a.s.sisted by old Thomas, who was almost as anxious for my triumph as I was myself, I succeeded in turning out my cream, pure, rich, white, just the right consistency, and deliciously flavored. It was but a small quant.i.ty, however; just a trial sample, not enough for family distribution; and, calling Allie and Daisy to the secret session which Thomas and I were holding in the butler's pantry, I divided the luscious morsel between them, exacting, first, the most solemn promise of secrecy. Allie demurred to this at first, having conscientious scruples about keeping any thing from mother; but she was finally persuaded to look upon it as a preparation for an agreeable surprise, as I a.s.sured her that this was only the prelude to a more extensive treat to the whole family, as well as the cla.s.s. Moreover, the sight of the dainty, and Daisy's enjoyment of it, were too much for her, she having rather a leaning towards the flesh-pots.