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Ob, here you are, Myrtle! I’ve had such a hunt for you it’s my birthday.” p. 13.

OR,

HATTIE’S BIETH-DAY VISIT.

V

BY THE AUTHOR OF

PHILADELPHIA :

AMEKICAN SUNDAY-SCHOOL UNION, No. 1122 Chestnut Street.

y

New York: Nos. 8 and 10 Bible House, Astor Place.

Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1871, by the AMERICAN SUNDAY-SCHOOL UNION,

In the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington.

Westcott & Thomsok,

Stereotypers, Philada.

FEBNWOOD.

Chapter I

AMMA,” said Hattie Winslow, ‘‘ have you thought about my birth-day? Day after to-morrow will be the 10th of June, 1852, and I don’t want you to forget it.”

I have not forgotten it, my child : you will be ten years old; and now how would you like to spend that important day?”

You know, mamma, where I would like to go best of all.”

^^To Fernwood, I suppose, to be with grandma?”

You have guessed exactly right, ma’am,” said Hattie, with sparkling eyes ; may I go?”

I know of nothing to prevent, and I have been thinking, my dear, that you will have the holiday even without the excuse of your birth-

1 * 5

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day, because I bear your teacher is likely to be called away by the illness of her mother."

Then, perhaps, I may stay all night ?"

We’ll see ; now take your book again, and sit still.”

Two or three friends had been shown into the parlour, and Mrs. Winslow wished to converse with them.

Hattie, after speaking politely to the visitors, withdrew to the recess of a bay-window, and by the fading light tried to resume the story she had been reading before the sudden remembrance of her birth-day called away her attention. Her eyes wandered off, however, out of the window ; she saw in her fancy the dear old homestead, the sweet garden, the broad meadows, the beautiful woods. It was a long time since she had visited her grandparents, except merely for a brief stay, and she looked forward now to the happiness of meeting them with intense .delight. There were no children there for her to play with : she could not have told herself wherein lay the great charm of a visit to Fernwood ; but she did enjoy being there very much indeed.

Scraps of conversation among her mother’s visitors attracted her attention ; for instance :

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Mrs. Winslow, we certainly have something to do here on earth more serious and important than keeping our houses in order and arranging what shall be for dinner to-morrow?”

You misunderstood me if you thought I meant that was all we were to do,” said Mrs. Winslow.

Every woman ought to consider that she has a special mission, and give herself no rest or enjoyment unless she knows it is being fulfilled.”

May I ask,” said Mrs. Winslow, smiling, what you believe to be your mission ?”

I think I am in my right place,” said Mrs. Coleman, '^when I am teaching the children in the Howard infant school to sing every morning. I have a good voice, and they seem to learn quite fast.”

But have they not a regular teacher ?”

Oh yes, but I didn’t like her way of singing, or of teaching either.”

Now, Hattie silently wondered what became of Mrs. Coleman’s four little children, ail under eight years of age, while their mother was absent every morning on her mission.

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The others mentioned what they felt called upon to do: one spent her time distributing tractS; and as she was not married, and had no particular claims upon her leisure, Hattie said to herself, “That’s nice and right/' The other said, “ She felt it to be her duty to be present at certain meetings held by the ladies for the benefit of an orphan school in a heathen land, and to be begging money for ' the establishment, as she was considered a very good beggar. She was consequently in the street a great part of every day.”

Hattie did not feel interested in all that was said, but the impression was left on her mind that having a mission made it necessary to be in the street a good deal, and also to be away from home much of the time. She concluded, therefore, that her mother was rather behind ' the age because she found plenty to do in attending to the wants of her household, and in making home a happy place for her husband and children.

But gradually the sound of voices became less audible. Hattie found herself again absorbed in her thoughts about grandma and Bernwood, and before it was quite dark the visitors took their leave.

Chapter II

HE 10th of June came, bright and clear, and Hattie was taken to the railroad d4p6t and placed in a car. After a half-hour s ride she arrived at the station where she was to get out.

“ Good-morning, grandma !” she exclaimed, almost dancing into the sitting-room at Fernwood; *‘Ive come to spend the day with you.”

Her grandma pushed back her spectacles and looked up from her sewing, her face changing instantly from its sad expression :

“Well, come and give me a kiss, then, the first thing, dear. How the child looks Did you walk or run or fly to get here ?”

“ I would have liked to fly, grandma, after I got out of the car, but I could only run ; so I did,that just as fast as I could. I guess my hair does look pretty wild;” and the child began to unfasten her bonnet and take ofi* her coat without waiting for any formal invita-

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tion ; she and grandma were such fond friends there was no need of standing on ceremony.

''Now take your little chair and tell me all about it. Where’s mother ? And what’s become of school to-day ?”

Hattie put away her things in the entry closet and sat down, feeling quite willing to do so after her race of half a mile from the station.

" Well, grandma, this is my hirth-day, and mother was going to give me a holiday, anyhow, but, besides that, our teacher heard her mother was sick, and there is no school to-day. Mother said, if she sent no message to me this afternoon, I might stay all night. Oh, I do hope she will not send any !”

"Well, dearie, the little white bed is all ready for you ; I made it up yesterday. I did not forget the day of the month, and I hoped you would come and spend your birth-day with me, though I could not be sure you would like it.”

"Mamma offered to take me to the city; she said I might go to the menagerie.”

" And you declined that tempting offer, Hattie ? I’m astonished !”

"Yes, grandma; I said I would rather

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spend the day with you than with the wild beasts. Mother laughed, but she said, ‘ You may go, and tell grandma that you paid her a high compliment — you preferred her to a wild beast.’ ”

And so it is a compliment, my little pet,” said the old lady, drawing Hattie up to her and giving her a kiss. ‘‘ In these days, Hattie, old women are not considered very attractive; there is such a rush and hurry, so much dressing arid such a time fixing the hair, real and false, that old people seem to be in the way with their quiet, slow notions and their unwelcome advice. I am very proud of the choice you have made to-day, indeed. We’ll have a pleasant time, I guess, and a ride after dinner;” and grandma laid aside the tablecloth she was hemming and quietly stepped into the adjoining room, which was a large, beautifully-kept kitchen having an enclosed shed or scullery at the back. The rows of glittering tins that hung on the walls, together with two pair of tall, old-fashioned brass candlesticks that mounted guard on the mantel-piece, with the bell-metal mortar and pestle between them, all shining like gold, gave a sort of luminous appearance to the

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room, as if the sun was lying on it all day, brightening it with its presence.

Grandma pattered through the kitchen to the shed, where she found her factotum Myrtle.

In a low tone certain directions were given, which were solemnly responded to by bends of the turbaned head ; the conference closed, and from that moment Mrs. Cheston gave herself up to the enjoyment of her favourite's company.

Myrtle — ebony black — was the daughter of the last one of the family of slaves in New Jersey who had been freed by the will of Mrs. Cheston’s father. No title but that of “our family” or “our folks” was ever recognized by the hale, faithful old servant. The Merediths, from the first settler all the way down to the present representative of the family at the old place — the last remaining daughter — were the people of that part of the country, and her services were tendered accordingly with all becoming loftiness toward the “trash” that neighbouring gentry were obliged to hire for their servants.

Myrtle was a character, and her mistress understood exactly how to keep the balance

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even between the various discordant elements that composed it. Compared with most servants, she was invaluable. Happily, the favourites of her mistress were generally her own favourites also, and when Hattie had observed the necessary formality of going out to find Myrtle, no matter where she might be, at the barn, smoke-house, or chicken-yard or spring-house — the farther off, the better — and to do her duty by asking after her health, then, after that, all went serenely for the duration of her visit.

But if that ceremony were omitted through carelessness or forgetfulness, the dinner was apt to be less relishing, and no extra little pies or dainty cakes or sweetmeats found their way into Hattie’s basket when she was going home.

On this occasion, as soon as the child’s feet were rested, she set out on her journey in quest of Myrtle. After calling her again and again, and going to the barn and hen-house in vain, she ran down the meadow to the spring-house :

“ Oh, here you are, Myrtle ! I’ve had such a hunt for you. How are you to-day ? pretty well? It’s my birth-day !” v

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Myrtle rose from her stooping posture over the shelves to make her usual curtsey :

Many happy returns, Miss Harriet ! I’m as well as common, thank you, missy. Your grandma’s mighty pleased you’ve come to-day, ’ticularly as it’s your birth-day.”

‘‘ Is she ? How do you know. Myrtle ?”

Ah ! I can tell, missy ; don’t I know when she comes tapping across the kitchen floor to the shed, and says, * Myrtle, we’ll have sich and sich dishes for dinner to-day, and cheesecurds or something extra for dessert,’ — don’t I know there’s somebody come she sets partiklar store by? Now, I know’d a’most for certain that little missy was in the sitting-room the minute I heard old mistress’s foot coming toward the shed.”

Hattie laughed : So you had to come

right away to the spring-house for cream and butter and things, to help make a nice dinner ? Well, I won’t hinder you. Did ever anything smell sweeter, though, than this spring-house ? You make everything so white and clean. Good-bye, now. Myrtle.”

And leaving the old servant delighted with her heartfelt praise, Hattie travelled back up the meadow, filling her apron with buttercups

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as she went along, just because they looked so pretty and bright.

“Got a pin, grandma?” she asked as she came into the room. The old woman took out her pincushion to give her one.

“You always have pins, grandma, and I never can keep one by me.”

“That makes me think of my grandma, Hattie, when I was young. I used to tell her that the fairies must come in the night and fill the round ball she carried in her pocket, for it was always full, no matter when I asked for pins.”

“ Did your grandma hang her pincushion by this silver chain too ?”

“Yes, just as you see it now; you see the chain is divided toward the end, or rather another piece is joined on to hold the scissors. They both used to hang in her pocket, just as they now hang in mine.”

“ How convenient that must be, grandma ! and how bright you keep the chain !”

“ That comes partly from constant use, my dear, and partly from an occasional rubbing up I give it. How, when you have done examining the chain and hook, would you like to know how my grandmother used to be

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dressed when she was sitting at her work with this hook fastened to her waist and the chain hanging from it ?”

^^Yes, ma’am, indeed I would; I think I like old times, grandma and Hattie settled herself in the chair with a most contented expression on her face.

Mrs. Cheston^ooked through a bag of pieces she kept in a closet :

Now, here is a scrap of one of her dresses, Hattie.”

What queer kind of calico it is, grandma!”

It is the large flowered pattern that was thought so very handsome in those days, with a high gloss on it ; it was imported from England, and was quite expensive. Would you believe, my dear, that my grandmother considered herself looking very nice when she was dressed in a short gown made of this very pattern of calico, and a full skirt made of brown or black worsted ^ stuff,’ as the fabric was called ?”

^^Oh, grandma, you don’t mean that she would receive her friends in that dress, do you?”

I have seen her, when I was a child, of an afternoon in fall or spring, after she had taken

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her short nap and had come down stairs, sitting on the broad, chintz- covered sofa in her parlour, just in that dress, with her knittingbag by her side, and a sweet, placid, freshlooking old woman she was.

1 can remember thinking, as I sat in my little chair trying to sew or read — for she did not like to see me idle — that when she paused in her knitting, with a thoughtful look on her face, that she had just fixed upon some nice thing she intended putting on the tea-table, and especially did I think so if I saw her get up presently and step out into the large pantry. I knew I had been right in my fancies when I found grandfather observing some unexpected dish or the first appearance of fruit on the table when he came in to tea."

Grrandma, don’t you think housewives took more pains to see to such things in those times than they do now said Hattie.

My ! what an old-fashioned, noticing child you are, my dear !’’ said the old woman, with her kindly laugh. I don’t see how you should know about those times, but you have found out the truth with your young eyes. When I hear husbands saying to their wives now-adays, ‘ I wonder what is the reason that buck-

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wheat cakes and Indian slappers and such things never taste like they used to in my mother’s house ?’ I could give them the answer in most cases.”

And what would you tell them, grandma?”

^‘Why, my dear, I would tell them that the mother they speak of lived at a time when a good wife thought it was a part of her duty toward her husband and children to see that they had good and relishing food placed before them three times a day; when she did not feel that her clothes were too fine to admit of her going out into the kitchen over-night to set a pan of waffles or light biscuit for a winter morning’s breakfast, if the cook had not yet learned the knack of making them as nicely as she could herself ; and not only that, when this same wife and mother went round to her closets and pantry herself every morning, to see that no fragments of nice things were left in the best dishes getting stale or mouldy, or too much bread gathering up in the bread-bowl, or milk turning sour in two or three different vessels.”

Grandma,” said Hattie, it is no wonder mother has everything so nice at home if you taught her to keep house so well.”

FERNWOOD.

'^Yes, I taught her/’ said Mrs. Cheston, smiling, ^^but I had a rare time doing it.”

Why? Wasn’t dear mother a good scholar, grandma ?”

She was one of your leeterary sort of bodies, as our old Scotch minister used to say, and when she got hold of a book that pleased her, my dear, it was very hard work getting her to give it up and attend to her household duties.”

^^She would give it up after a while, and do what you told her to do, wouldn’t she, though ?”

“Always, my child. Sometimes I would not require it of her, for I disliked to tear her away from her pleasant reading, and I would quietly go myself and do what I wanted to have her attend to ; it was more for the sake of training her to be a good housekeeper than for the help I needed that I ever called her away.”

“But, grandma, you think that mother knows how now, don’t you ?”

“ Indeed I do, Hattie. I consider her one of the best housekeepers I ever knew, and I take no credit to myself for it, either, notwithstanding I tried so hard to give her the best

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and quickest ways of getting through with her work.”

‘^Then what did make her so active and industrious, grandma ? for it seems to liie that mother never allows herself time to read even the most interesting book until she feels sure that all the pickles and preserves for that particular time are done and fastened up, and that the week’s mending is all finished. Mother thinks of everything just at the right time ; I do not see how she does it.”

Here the conversation was interrupted. In the afternoon, Hattie enjoyed a delightful ride with her grandparents ; no message concerning school was received in the evening, and Hattie, very much delighted, retired to her little white bed,, safe in the prospect of one more day, at all events, at Ternwood.

Chapter III

fOME to breakfast, little chick,” grandfather called from the porch door early the next morning. Hattie was in the garden, running up one path and down another, making great haste to gather a bunch of pinks, roses, and sweet brier to place on the breakfast-table.

The sweetness of that old-fashioned garden while the dewdrops still sparkled on the flowers was beyond description. Hattie just drank it in as she went from one familiar spot to another ; * the damask and white cluster roses, now so rare, the clove-pinks, gilly-flowers, mignonette, and heliotrope, all sent forth their richest fragrance on this bright morning, and these were only a part.

Hastily tying up her little nosegay with a strip of ribbon grass, Hattie ran into the house, giving her ready kiss of good-morning and showing her flowers.

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^'Well, how did the little bed feel last night, Hattie ?"

I never knew anything more about it, grandma, after you took the light away,” said the child, laughing merrily.

“You said your prayers I suppose, my dear?” said grandpa; “ and after that you felt safe, and had no thoughts to trouble you or keep you from sleeping.”

“ Hattie told me last night that she thinks she will never be too old to say, ^ Now I lay me down to sleep,’ because it has everything in it that a prayer needs on going to bed.”

“ And she is quite right,” said her grandfather ; “ it is the simplest and yet the fullest prayer for a child, or for any one, in lying down for the night.”

“But I always say, ^Our Father,’ too,” said Hattie.

Myrtle just then looked in to see if they were all seated, and brought from the fire her hottest cakes, giving a kind look at Hattie as she put them on the table.

“Would you like to come with me this morning in the gig, Hattie ? I am going to buy some new fowls at a farmer’s three or four miles off,” said grandpa.

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“ If grandma thinks she can spare me, I will be very glad to go,” said Hattie, in her old-fashioned way ; we were going to have nice times to-day.”

“ Oh, I hope there will be plenty of time afterward, my dear ; I think you will not go home just yet. You may go and help your grandpa select these uncommon chickens ; the ride will do you good.”

Hattie brightened up at the permission, and enjoyed her breakfast all the more for the pleasant prospect before her. They were to go about nine o’clock.

After family worship was over, and Myrtle and another house-servant had gone to their work, grandma began to wash her china and silver, as she did every morning, herself. This was a delightful hour to Hattie when she was at the farm. The little tub of whitest wood bound with brass was brought in full of hot water, and Hattie was allowed to get out the soft towels, and as a great favour was permitted to wipe the pieces as grandma gave them into her hands. Knowing how particular the old lady was about this operation, Hattie felt all the more the importance of her position in being her assistant.

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While the work went smoothly on, grandma said,

“I wonder if you are as fond of chickens and ducks as I used to be when I was little?"

“ I like to be among them, grandma, very much, but then, you know, we live in a village, and mother says it makes so much trouble between neighbours to raise chickens that we never do it."

“ It does make trouble, I know," replied Mrs. Cheston. I have seen chickens brought and thrown over the fence with their heads cut off, because a man was tired past endurance with having his garden seeds scratched up whenever he planted them, or his tomatoes eaten as fast as they were ripe enough to pull, if they had the good luck to grow at all."

‘‘But the poor chickens — what a shame, grandma, to kill them ! They could not tell the difference in the ground, one side of the fence or the other."

“It taught their owner at last, my dear, that the fence must be repaired and kept strong. But I had no such trouble when I raised poultry here, as a child. I never felt quite so grand, I think, in all my youthful

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dayS; as I did once, and it was all owing to a pair of chickens.”

How was it, grandma ?” and Hattie rubbed all the harder on a silver cream-cup she was polishing in her- eagerness to hear the story.

Somebody had said in my hearing,” replied grandma, as she twirled her cups around in the rinsing- water, ^‘that my grandmother in the city would be pleased if we sent her a present of a pair of nice fowls ; in the winter I thought of my special coop full of fine, fat chickens, and resolved she should have a pair at once. They were made ready for my father to take with him the next time he went to town, for my mother’s mother did not live here : you know this is the Meredith farm. I sent a message of love to my grandmother, and hoped she would enjoy the fowls, which I had raised entirely myself, and then I considered the matter ended.

^‘When my father came home a few days afterward, we were all sitting round the table when supper was done, most of the family engaged in reading the letters from city friends and the newspapers, for in those days, my dear, such things came by private

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hands more than they do now, when postage is so cheap, and I think they brought a greater relish with them, somehow. We always looked forward to father’s return, when he went to the city, as to a kind of festival. Well, I got out my slate, and was busy copying pictures of animals from Groldsmith’s ^ Animated Nature,’ when suddenly the silence was broken by the sound of my father’s voice; he put down the paper he was reading, and said,

“ ‘1 believe I am getting forgetful ; come here, Gipsy!’ That was the name he mostly called me, because I was such a wild, wandering kind of a child, I suppose, and I had black hair, too. ‘ Why don’t you ask me about the chickens I took to town for you ?’

“ ' Why, father,’ I said, ‘ I thought there was nothing more after I sent them ; you took them, you know.’

“ ‘ Yes, but don’t you want to know whether your grandmother was pleased that you remembered her ?’

'' ' She was pleased, I guess, father,’ I answered.

“ ‘ She seemed to be very much pleased indeed ; she said they were the handsomest pair of fowls she had seen all winter’ — and then

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father seemed to be getting something out of his pocket — ^ and she told me to give you this little package and her love with it.’ I took it in my hand and went to the light, utterly surprised.”

^‘What was it, grandma?” said Hattie, quickly; ^‘did she send you her daguerreotype?”

Mrs. Cheston laughed :

^'Daguerreotypes had not been invented then, my dear child ; they are of more modern origin. No ; it was a little green velvet purse with a gilt clasp — children of the present day would hardly think it worth looking at — and inside of it were two bright silver half dollars.”

" Oh how kind that was in her !” exclaimed Hattie, in delighted tones.

- " I cannot tell to this day, my dear, why that little token of my grandmother’s favour and approbation impressed me so deeply. For the money I really had no use ; I was not accustomed to owning or saving up money, as many children are, but it seemed to me as if I was rewarded for the trouble I had taken with all the chickens on the place, for they were entirely my charge. I felt amply paid

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for going out on rainy days to feed them, and for the anxieties I had known when a heavy storm had once carried away some little chickens but a* few days old. Grandmother had praised my fowls, and she had also been pleased with me. I felt as if I had grown several years older that night, and I remember being quite serious until it was time to go to bed.”

I wonder what it was that made her so much pleased ?” said Hattie, thoughtfully.

“ Well, dear, I think it likely that grandma meant to encourage me in the habit of persevering in what I undertook. She found that, child though I was, and a heedless child too, I had yet been steadfast in my care of the poultry at home, and had taken good care of them too, as these well-kept fowls bore witness. Now, you know, if I had attended to them by fits and starts, sometimes feeding them three or four times a day and then forgetting them for a day or two, they would not have .thriven at all; I should have found it impossible to make anybody such a present : and that I could be faithful in any duty gratified my grandmother so much that she sent me this little reward. No matter what a

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child undertakes to do, there ought always to he a sense of responsibility connected with the doing it ; the smallest matter should be done well and faithfully: don't you think so, my dear ?"

That is what mother says to me, grandma. She says, if I fold up a dress, I ought to do it as nice and straight as possible, and she likes me to make my bed every day as if the queen was coming to sleep with me at night,” said Hattie, laughing. ■

“Did you ever read anything about eyeservice ?” grandma said, presently, when she came back from putting some china in the closet.

“ Ho, grandma ; I don’t think I have. What is it?”

“ If you were to do any piece of work when your mother was out of the room in a careless way, yet so as she should think it was done right from the outside, that would be eyeservice. But if you were to do it all through exactly as she would approve, whether the difference was seen or not, then you would be acting right as in the sight of Grod. I have sometimes gone into a room, for instance, and found a servant doing her work in such a way 3*-

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that if I had not happened to see her at that part of it, I would have believed she had done it as I wished, but she was acting only as an eye-servant ; if I had been present looking at her all the while, she would have done it in the proper way. Now, do you understand ?'’