Stoney Cardington's ideal

Preface

If any words in this little volume will help perpetuate the memory of the noble hero whose purity of life has so impressed her as to cause this simple story to be written, the author will be richly repaid for her labor.

Our Southern youth can hardly find a higher human model than is furnished by the life and character of General Thomas J. Jackson.

If the writer accomplishes nothing more by sending out this loving tribute to his memory than to awaken in the hearts of our boys and girls a desire to familiarize themselves with his life, as given us by his devoted wife and also by Dr. Dabney, her task will not be barren of fruit.

M. A. H.

“In Heavenly Places in Christ Jesus,” . 174

Chapter I. Resisting An Enemy

“ TONEY! Stoney Cardington, come here.”

The voice was a shrill one, and the appearance of the woman corresponded with the voice.

Sharp-featured and angular, she looked as if all the honey that had ever come into her life had long ago fermented, leaving only acidity and bitterness behind.

“You, Stoney, if you don’t come here this minute, I’ll — I’ll punish you so that you’ll remember it fur many a day. D’ye hear ? ”

Her tone rose to a sharp falsetto as she thus called.

A lad of some seven or eight years of age, concealed from her view by a clump of lowgrowing evergreens, stood motionless as her tones reached him. He only straightened himself a little at her first call, and then looked down to see that his toes were squarely against 11

Stoney Cardingtori s Ideal.

a line which he had evidently marked for himself in the sand. After that he stood like a statue.

“ Me find ’im. He hidin’ ’hind ’em bushes.” cried a sturdy child, who had been hanging, whimpering, to the woman’s skirts. Unlike the majority of children of his age, the fresh sweetness of childhood was not discernible in his face. His expression was a vivid reproduction of the ill-temper so clearly stamped upon the woman’s countenance, and marked them as being undoubtedly mother and child.

“Well, go and find him, then. And if he’s thar, Tommy, call me,” was the woman’s reply, given in the shrill falsetto in which she had before spoken.

The child ran nimbly forward, and peering around the evergreens discovered the motionless figure.

“He ’m here, muzzer,” he called out, and then ran to the boy and tugged at his coat, saying: “You my hoss. You run ’ed away. Get up now, hossy. Go ’long, ole hoss.”

“I’m not a horse. I’m a wall,” the boy muttered, not stirring.

“ Muzzer, he won’t go. He say he not my hoss,” screamed the child, in fury.

“We’ll see about that,” the woman said,

Resisting an Enemy .

coming around the bushes. She took hold of the culprit’s shoulder and shook him angrily as she said: “What do you mean, Stoney Cardington, by gettin’ into these sulking spells all at onct ? Didn’t I tell you to play with Tommy ’till I sent you fur water? What d’ you run away from him fur?”

“ He slapped me in the face, and kicked me, and I couldn’t do anything to please him,” the boy answered, still remaining in his tracks.

“Don’t you know he’s nothin’ but a baby? You got to humor him. Come on, now, an’ don’t you run away from him again.”

But Stony did not stir.

The woman again shook him, and again ordered him to follow her; but he remained just where she had found him, with his toes rigidly against the mark in the sand.

“If you’re not the stubbornest child that ever was born,” the woman wrathfullv said. “ I’d whip you, but whippin’ don’t do no good.” Then she fixed her eyes upon him and added : “ If you don’t come with me this minute and play with Tommy, you sha’n’t have a bite to eat to-day.”

Seeing that the stubborn expression on the lad’s face did not change, she continued : “ It’s nigh on to twelve o’clock. You didn’t eat a

Stoney Carding ton’s Ideal.

big breakfast, an’ you’ll find yourself about starved before night.”

Stoney’s lips quivered a little, but he did not move.

The woman turned away with Tommy beside her, who began howling for his “hoss.” He darted back and gave Stoney’s bare legs a vicious kick with his copper-toed shoes, and then joined her again, saying: “You’ll starve ’im, won’t you, muzzer, cause he won’t be my hoss?”

“I don’t see what great sin I ever done to have that dreadful child left on my hands to look after. He is gittin’ worse and worse every day, an’ he acts ez if he didn’t have good sehse,” she said, in a monotone. “He just stands plumb still when the notion takes him, and I can’t make him budge. I’ve whipped him ’till I was clean tired out, but it don’t do no good. I ’most wish he’d die, sometimes, so’s to give me a little peace.”

Poor woman ! As one looked into her face he knew it would take more than Stoney Cardington’s death to bring peace to her stormy, passion-swept soul.

Could she have looked underneath his ragged jacket into the lad’s heart, some feeling akin to pity might have been awakened within her

Resisting an Enemy .

breast. Greatly surprised she would have been, at least, as she read his thoughts, which ran somewhat in this wise :

“’Course she’s my en’my, ’cause she just hates me. So’s Tommy, An’ he never moved ’fore his en’mies. The man said so. He alius stood like a wall. An’ I’s to stan’ just that a-way, alius. If I does, I’ll grow up to be a great man like him.”

At this point he winked very hard to keep back two tears which the remembrance of his forfeited dinner and supper brought to his eyes.

“ I’s ’most hungry ’nuff to eat chips,” he thought. “ I wonder if he ever had to lose his vittles like me ’cause he had to stan’ like a wall ’gainst his en’mies? What makes her an’ Tommy hate me so, I wonder? Is it ’cause my father drinked whiskey till it deaded him, an’ leff me fur her to look arter? I wisht she wouldn’t be my en’my, but would love me. I could work for her, then, an’ ’fend her and Tommy, like he did fur his Men’s, ’stead o’ havin’ to stan’ ’gainst her like a wall.”

Such was the trend of Stoney’s thoughts, although they were not so clearly defined to his own consciousness as we have portrayed them. He was conscious, however, that he was illused and despised by his aunt and small cousin, and that, in accordance with his childish ideal of manliness and greatness, he was bound to resist them with all his stubborn will and puny strength. His hunger became so great as the hours passed that he stole noiselessly to the shed where the scraps of corn bread and the bones for the dog were kept, and greedily devoured whatever he found that could appease his appetite. Then he threw himself upon the grass under an apple tree, and soon fell asleep.

Chapter II. In An Old Virginia Home

B ERKELEY, the birthplace of President William Henry Harrison, is one of those old colonial homes still dear to the heart of all true Yirginians. Although less pretentious than its neighbor, Westover, it is still fragrant with memories which quicken the pulse and kindle the eye of every patriotic youth in the Old Dominion State, as he recalls the stirring scenes from the years of the long ago, when Virginia stood foremost in the ranks of American commonwealths.

In the year 1874 this memorable home, which had then passed from the hands of the Harrison family, was occupied by the Gordons. It would be difficult to find a nobler race than this name typifies.

Dr. Samuel Gordon was not only an able physician, but he was also a man of culture and refinement. More than this, he was the friend and succorer of the poor and distressed, wherever found; and in him the sad-hearted always knew they would find a sympathizer and helper, so far as he was able to render them assistance.

His wife, Mrs. Annie Gordon, was a worthy helpmeet for him ; and their only child, Grace, seemed the embodiment of the graces and virtues of both parents. If she had a fault, her friends had never discovered it. She was about eighteen years of age, and was most fair to look upon. But the beauty of her soul, which gave to her countenance a chaste light which impressed every beholder, made one forgetful of the delicacy of her features, in admiration of the deeper loveliness of her spirit and character.

“Mamma,” Grace said to Mrs. Gordon, the morning following the incident recorded in our former chapter, “ did you notice Stoney when he came for milk last night? His eyes were all swollen, and I am sure that Mrs. Carson must have been punishing him again. She is really cruel to him, I am afraid.”

“That child weighs upon my heart,” Mrs. Gordon responded. “I am almost tempted to offer to take him, if Mrs Carson will let him leave her. He could do many useful things about the garden and yard, and we might find him a real comfort. I do not believe that he is really a bad child, as Mrs. Carson insists. He has a noble face, and his eyes are beautiful.”

“Yes, and so thoughtful,” Grace added. ‘ I

In an Old Virginia Home.

wish you would take him, mamma. We could teach him to read, and send him to Sabbath-school, and make a little Christian out of him. He is a veritable heathen now.”

“ Only God can make him a Christian, dear,” her mother corrected ; “ but we could put him in the way to find Christ. There really seems no chance for him where he is.”

“Who is he, anyway?” Grace asked. “Mrs. Carson is always flinging up to him that his father was a drunkard, and that he will probably go the same way. It is dreadful to hear her, in her shrill voice, always scolding the poor little fellow. I wonder he is not almost murderous under her constant hectoring. I am afraid I should be.”

Mrs. Gordon smiled at the idea of her gentle Grace ever becoming murderous, whatever her surroundings might be ; but the girl, interpreting correctly the smile, added, vehemently: “The evil in me has never had a chance to grow, mamma, is why you think the idea absurd. I do believe, if I had been forced to endure the ceaseless nagging which makes Stoney Cardington’s life a misery to him, I should have developed into a little fiend. I feel it stirring in me now, sometimes, when that woman is talking, and I almost wish that I might choke

Stoney Cardington s Ideal .

her until she learns how to behave herself. She is cultivating all that is bad in Stoney’s nature, and rapidly developing whatever is wrong.”

“I am afraid that is true,” Mrs. Gordon assented. “I did not know that you were such a close observer. Mrs. Carson’s sharp voice is truly an infliction.

“You ask about Stoney’s history. His father married far beneath him in social standing, and, while Stoney’s mother was a higher type of woman than her sister, she was still far from being an ideal wife. Jack Cardington was as brave a soldier as ever wore a uniform. He fought under General Jackson, and when Stoney was born, a year after the close of the war, he named him after his idolized commander. Your father knew Jack Cardington well, and loved him.”

Grace smiled as she said, “Oh, I see, ‘Stoney ’ is only his nickname, then ; his real name is Thomas.”

“Yes, Thomas Jackson Cardington ; but they have always called him ‘Stoney.’ Jack Cardington took to drinking after his return from the army. People say it was the shrill tongue of his wife that drove him to it.”

“ If it was anything like Mrs. Carson’s, I am not surprised,” was Grace’s comment-

In an Old Yirginia Home .

“He died a miserable drunkard when Stoney was but three years old. One year afterwards his wife suddenly passed away, from an attack of pneumonia. Since then Mrs. Carson has had charge of the boy. No doubt he is a great tax upon her, especially since her husband has left her.”

“But you know, mamma, that you give her a good support, with all the work you place in her way, and with the substantial things you are always adding,” Grace indignantly answered. “There is no excuse for the way she treats theboy. She allows that horrid Tommy of hers to kick and scratch and bite him until I wonder that he does not turn upon him and knock him over; and then, if Stoney resents such treatment, she whips and scolds him until it is enough to make an idiot out of him, or train him into a criminal.”

“I am surprised to hear such strong words from you, darling. I had no idea that Stoney’s wrongs had so deeply impressed you. I think I must see Mrs. Carson to-day, and find out if she will place the boy with us.”

“ Offer to pay her something, if she considers his time worth anything to her, and she will be sure to consent,” Grace shrewdly suggested.

As the result of this conversation, Stoney

Cardington soon became a member of the Gordon household.

Tommy Carson whimpered and fretted for his “ole hoss” in vain. His angry passions, after Stoney had gone to his new home, had to vent themselves in kicks and blows upon the cat and dog, varied by occasional slaps given to his mother. Mrs. Carson bore these attacks of the small ruffian with excusing tenderness, and usually defended his conduct by saying: “It is all owing to that dreadful Stoney that you have such a bad temper, dear. He aggravated you until it is no wonder you want to slap and kick everything that comes about you.”

If it had not been so sad it would have been amusing to notice how such injudicious words always bore immediate fruit in the added vim with which the young tyrant gave vent to his unrestrained anger by still more viciously attacking either dog or parent, whichever was nearest him.

Truly, some mothers, who are as merciless as hyenas to others, evince such foolish and unwise tenderness toward those of their own brood as fosters all that is savage and evil in their natures. It is little wonder that such parents often live to have their hearts wrung with anguish over the evil conduct of these spoiled and ungoverned sons and daughters.

Chapter III. New Influences

X ning Stoney’s heart. To him she seemed truly angelic. He was not by nature a reticent child, although the unkind treatment he had received while with his aunt had tended to develop this trait.

“Do you know what your real name is, Stoney?” she asked him one day after she had given him his usual morning lesson out of his primer.

Mrs. Gordon had presented him with this highly-prized little book the first day of his residence under the Berkeley roof.

“Stone-wall Cardington,” was his prompt reply.

“ Why are you called by such a strange name as Stone-wall?” she inquired, with lively interest, placing her emphasis exactly as he had done.

“’Cause he, the great man I’s named fur, alius stood like a stone wall when his en’mies was a botherin’ him,” was the boy’s reply. His eyes were brilliant with animation.

“Who told yon this?” was the girl’s next question.

“ A man — a £ tramp ’ Annt Mandy called him — who come by onct, and stopped fur a drink o’ water. When I told him my name he put his hand onto my head and said just them words I telled you.”

There was a moment’s silence, when, encouraged by the smile upon the young lady’s lips, the boy added : “ He said I must alius stan’ as he did, like a wall befo’ my en’mies. An’ I have been a-doin’ it ever sence he told me.”

“ Why, Stoney, what do you know about enemies? You are too young to understand what the word means,” Grace rejoined.

His eyes kindled.

“ No I ain’t. Aunt Mandy an’ Tommy are my en’mies, ’cause they hates me. An’ the man said a en’mv was anybody what hated you, an’ what wanted to hurt you.”

Like a flash Grace saw into the heart of the child beside her. She understood why his aunt had found him stubborn and intractable, and she surmised that he had enthroned within his heart, as his model and ideal of manly greatness, his rude conception of General Jackson. Very tenderly she told him the history of the gallant and noble man whose name

New Influences. 25

he bore, and lie listened to her with eager interest.

“ As soon as yon learn to read nicely I will give yon a book containing the life of this grand man. It shall be for yonr very own, and as yon learn about him, and what a noble boy he was, and what a good man, as well as being a bold and fearless soldier and commander, you will want to grow up to be just like him.”

“ I want to be like him now,” was the boy’s quick answer.

Mrs. Gordon had entered the room while Grace was giving General Jackson’s history, and as she listened to Stoney’s earnest words her eyes filled with tears. She laid her hand upon his head as she said : “A noble ideal has saved many a lad from ruin. Be true to yours, Stoney, and you will become a good man.”

The child did not understand her words. He asked: “What is being ideel? Aunt Mandy said I was a idle boy. She meant I was lazy. Do you mean that ? Is standin’ still ’fore your en’mies, an’ not workin’ while they bothers you, bein’ ideel?”

Grace laughed a little over his confusion of ideas, and her mother tried to explain to him the meaning of ideal. She used this illustration : “When I want to copy a portrait, I place

Stoney Gardingtori s Ideal .

the picture right before me. Then I watch it, and study it until all its points are plainly impressed upon my mind, as well as being before my eyes. And then I begin to copy it, painting everything exactly as it is in the picture before me. When I have done you could hardly tell which was the copy, for the pictures are so nearly alike. Here is a picture of Grace which I copied from one which hangs in the drawingroom,” she added, taking a portrait from the wall and holding it before Stoney.

He examined it with a pleased smile. It pictured Grace upon her tenth birthday, and it presented a most charming face.

“Now come with me, and see the painting from which I copied it,” Mrs. Gordon continued.

She led him into the adjoining room and paused before a fine oil painting. The boy gazed from the face upon the wall into the one held within the frame in Mrs. Gordon’s hands.

“They’s just alike,” he said, in a surprised tone.

“Yes, as nearly as I could make them. We paid a large sum of money to have this one painted which hangs upon the wall. The other one only cost me the labor of painting it,” she

New Influences .

responded. “ I wanted one to keep close beside me while I sat over my sewing and reading. So I made this copy as exactly as possible like the other. This one on the wall, Stoney, was my ideal. Do you understand now what an ideal is?”

“Yes, ma’am. It’s what you painted from. An’— an’,” he hesitated.

“And General Stonewall Jackson’s life is to be the picture after which you are going to model, or paint, your life, Stoney,” she said. “ He is your ideal. You will have to be a very noble, manly boy, for he was one of the purest and grandest men that ever lived.”

How deeply her words -and her illustration sank into the boy’s heart and fired his imagination, she did not know. The future years revealed something of the impression made that day upon his plastic character.

“ An ideal is much more than your illustration showed,” Grace remarked, as her mother dismissed Stoney and seated herself by her daughter’s side.

“Yes, but it gave him a tangible idea to grasp, and this is so needful in teaching a child. It is sad to think how low are the ideals which most children form for themselves. They are drawn, I suppose, from persons about them.

Stoney Cardington s Ideal.

To form and cherish high ideals means much for any one, especially for the young.”

“ Christ has been mine, mamma, ever since I can remember,” Grace responded, in a low tone.

Gazing into her lovely face her mother thought: “Yes, and his matchless beauty is being stamped upon you more clearly every day.” She said aloud: “He is our highest ideal. Until a soul knows him, however, in spiritual worship and personal love, a lower one must answer.”

Chapter IV. A Brave Act

ERHAPS there never was a more eager little student than Stoney became. His work in the garden and among the flowers was dispatched as quickly as possible, and then his beloved primer was in his hands.

Grace discovered that he sometimes attempted, in a rude and awkward way, to form the letters of the alphabet in the sand with a stick. This soon induced her to teach him printing while he was still learning the rudiments of spelling.

In less than three months he could read nicely all the lessons in his primer. Then he was given a First Reader, and very proud was he of this new treasure.

In their daily association Grace told him the many interesting incidents of the past which clustered about Berkeley. These seemed to impress him deeply, and he never tired peering into the room where he was told one of the presidents of our great republic had first opened his eyes to the light of earth.

Busy and happy amid the congenial sur-

Stoney Cardington s Ideal.

roundings of his new home, and showing in every word and act his deep affection towards his kind friends, Stoney rapidly developed, both in mind and in body.

Both Grace and her mother had become so fond of the boy, and were so pleased to notice his rapidly expanding mental powers, that they accorded him almost the position in the home of a brother and a son.

Dr. Gordon was also much impressed by the boy’s bright bearing and by his evident thirst for knowledge.

“ He shall become a physician if he so desires, and I will take pleasure in helping him,” the good man said to his wife. “ I am pleased to see that he seems to be altogether a Cardington. Barring his unfortunate taste for drink, Jack Cardington was a noble man. I have no doubt but that his unseemly marriage was the cause of this sad habit. In his younger days no one ever suspected Jack of tippling.”

“ I feel as though I had rescued a valuable jewel from destruction by taking Stoney from his aunt’s influence,” Mrs. Gordon rejoined. “He responds to love and kind treatment, as well as to firm rules, as no child would unless he possessed a truly noble nature.”

About six months after Stoney had become

A Brave Act.

a resident under the Berkeley roof, Mrs. Gordon’s cook fell ill. In their dilemma Grace suggested that Mrs. Carson be asked to fill the gap. After some hesitation, for she did not enjoy having the shrill- voiced woman about her, Mrs. Gordon acquiesced.

She did fairly well in the role of cook, but Tommy was a great annoyance to the entire household. His usual surly temper increased under certain restrictions which his mother, at Mrs. Gordon’s suggestion, deemed it best to place upon him.

Both mother and son, one consciously and the other unconsciously, showed feelings of envy towards Stoney. It seemed to hurt them to see how happy and well cared for he was.

Many spiteful things as to his former worthlessness were said by his aunt, and she solemnly warned Grace “to look out, for he would yet prove to be a snake in the grass, ready to bite them in some unsuspected moment.”

One day while his mother was busy about the breakfast, Tommy amused himself by playing in a fire which she had built in the back yard, over which she was heating water with which to begin the week’s washing.

Stoney was near, tying some vines to a trellis.

“Look out, Tommy, or you’ll get a-fire,” the boy said, warningly.

The small urchin’s only notice of the words was to distort his face into a hideous grimace.

Having finished his work about the trellis, Stoney threw off his jacket preparatory to weeding out a flower bed. A shrill cry from Tommy caused him to turn swiftly towards the fire. He saw, with horror, that the child’s clothing was in flames. For an instant he stood motionless. Another cry from the child caused him to spring forward. His coat was still in his hands. He quickly wrapped this about Tommy’s blazing garments. As he did so the child screamed more loudly than ever, and began to kick Stoney’s legs, crying out : “Lem’me ’lone! lem’me ’lone! I hate you.”

His would-be rescuer, for half a second, backed away. But the sight of the flames forcing themselves through the folds of the jacket which he had wrapped closely about the short figure of the burning child caused him again to spring forward This time he forcibly threw the screaming boy upon the ground, and rolling him over once or twice as if he had been a log, he proceeded to throw the soft sand, with which the yard was filled, over the prostrate form. So intent was he upon extinguishing the

A Brave Act.

flames that he did not hear the kitchen door open, nor heed his aunt’s shrill cry as she noted the spectacle before her.

A ringing slap across his cheek, followed by a tingling blow upon his ear, was his first intimation of her presence upon the scene.

“Take that, an’ that, an’ that,” she said, in her high falsetto, following each word with a blow. “ I’ll teach you better than to roll Tommy on the ground, an’ then throw dirt onto him. You think ’cause Miss Grace is a plumb fool over you ye can do as you please with Tommy.”

The voice of Grace from an upper window came like music to Stoney’s tingling ears. Her tone was sharper than he had ever before heard from her, as she said : “For shame, Mrs. Carson ! Tommy was on fire, and Stoney has probably saved his life.”

Upon examination it was found that Tommy was not seriously injured. Several burns upon his neck and one under his chin showed that his young rescuer had not been any too prompt in staying the course of the flames.

Although he made no complaint, Grace found that Stoney’s hands were badly blistered. Yery tenderly Mrs. Gordon dressed his burns, and spoke words of praise over his heroic be- 3 havior. Grace was also quite eloquent in her expressions of pleasure because of his bravery. From her window she had witnessed the whole scene. But fright and horror had kept her speechless until Mrs. Carson had made her furious attack upon Stoney.

His aunt made no apology for her blows, merely stating that from what she knew of him she thought he had knocked Tommy down and was throwing dirt upon him for spite. Nor did she utter one word of thanks for his promptness in saving Tommy from the effects of his naughtiness in playing with fire. Her dislike of Stoney was so intense that she seemed incapable of believing that he had actually saved her child’s life at the risk of his own. She seemed to believe, in spite of all that Grace could say, that some sinister motive lay behind his brave act.

CHAPTER Y.

AN UNWELCOME SUMMONS.

T IME rolled rapidly on. Stoney had been amid liis new surroundings for nearly five years. He had been sent to school much of this period, and had repaid the care given him by becoming one of the most promising scholars in the neighborhood. The life of the illustrious Jackson had long been one of his choicest treasures. Grace laughingly declared that she believed he knew the entire contents of the book by heart.

Life looked very bright to the orphan boy, and the trials of his earlier years while with his aunt seemed as a troubled dream to him.

One day Mrs. Carson came to Berkeley with news that sent a thrill of pain through every member of the household.

“ Jim has come back, and he ’lows to go to farmin’,” she said, without preface. “ He has brought a good mule home with him, and he is going to get some oxen. He says Stoney has got to come home and help him on the farm.”

“Jim” was the woman’s husband. He had been away from her ever since Tommy’s birth. 35