A strange disclosure; a tale of New England life ...

Front matter

Chap.?Z.-5 Copyright No,

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Contents

CHAPTER page

I. The Arrival and Reception 7

II. The Journey and Return 15

Chapter I. The Arrival And Reception

“ Fair as a summer’s dream was Violetj —

Such dream as in a poet’s soul might start Musing of old loves while the moon doth set :

Her hair was not more sunny than her heart, Though like a natural, golden coronet It circled her dear head with careless art. Mocking the sunshine, that would fain have lent To its frank grace a richer ornament.”

was towards the close of a summer afternoon. The sun was just taking a farewell glance at the village of Rockshire ; gilding the waters of the river that formed its western boundary ; a busy river it was, washing away the refuse of the village and still, like a tidy housewife, always looking clean and smiling, with no traces of its dirty work soiling its liquid robes. Busy it was, turning the grist mills in its course, working on steadily, soberly. And yet it was full of frolic and fun, as the sun well knew, for its golden beams were always waiting to meet it, after it had followed its shady course beneath the old willows and tall elms that lined its banks for some distance ; and then what a merry time there was !

A STRANGE DISCLOSURE.

The waters dancing and leaping over the rapids, and the sunbeams laughing and chasing them, like excited children running after their playmates ; the race never seemingly decided, for the sunbeams and the waves kept together, until both were out of sight.

The sun’s farewell glance rested on the form of a tall, awkward looking woman, who was making her way rapidly through the principal street of the village.

Straight, bony and angular, her frame showed the effect of continued labor. Her sharp, gray eyes twinkled with a peculiar shrewdness ; and the few corkscrew curls that hung over her wrinkled forehead, told that the vanity, which is said to be indicated by the least regard to personal appearance in woman, was not wholly extinct.

Her dress was afterthe fashion of rural districts, of brilliant red overspread with bright flowers ; a green plaid shawl covered her shoulders, and a small ^bonnet, the front of it filled with a profusion of gaudy flowers, was perched on her head, revealing the sharp outline of her features.

She bent her steps toward a large, four story building that stood at the end of the street, ascended the steps and gave the bell a vigorous pull.

Nobody came; — she rang again, and again, with renewed energy.

“There,” said she at last, “that’s as much as politeness requires, and now in I go, for I can’t waste my time standing here !”

THE ARRIVAL AND RECEPTION.

So in she walked.

The large entry was scrupulously neat; there were several doars on each side : after knocking at and trying each in succession, the woman, whom we shall now introduce to our readers as Miss Sally Harwood, came to one at the end of it, the upper part of which was glass,, with a green baize curtain ; the curtain w'as slightly aside and Miss Sally peeped in — quite a domestic scene met her eyes.

The room was covered with a neat carpet, a round table spread with a snowy cloth held a cold chicken, a cranberry pie, two custards, four nice rolls and a plate of golden butter ; while on the air-tight stove a tea-pot hissed and sputtered, as if to say that it was all ready, whether the company were or not. The occupants of the room were a young man, pale and thin, with a profusion of light, tan colored hair falling over his black coat, who sat on one side of the table, devouring the contents beforehand with his eyes, and a w'oman, some years older than himself, but who appeared to be trying to make herself seem very youthful, judging from the simpering smiles and pretended bashful glances she was casting at him.

Miss Sally (shall I confess it?) listened !

“Well Cynthia,” said he, “your table looks quite inviting ; I wouldn’t miss one of your invitations for the world. Superintendent’s away, I suppose.”

A STRANGE DISCLOSURE.

“ You judge so from my invite, I guess, Josiah — for we poor matrons can’t have any company except when he is away, and when the cat’s aw^ay the mice will play, you know I”

“ How long will he be gone?” asked Josiah.

“ He won’t be back till nine,” was the answer ; “ but all is ready, and we had better take our tea.”

“ With all my heart,” replied her gallant visitor. “ Shall I have the honor to hand you a chair?”

A loud knocking from Miss Sally interrupted the conversation.

Josiah dropped the chair and sat down, his eyes resting upon the eatables, seemingly intent on determining in his mind which was the largest quarter of the pie, and the fattest leg and wing of the chicken.

The matron’s smile changed to a frown as she opened the door ; she tried to assume a very sweet voice much at variance with her sour looks.

“ What’s your pleasure, ma’am,” said she.

“ I came,” replied the visitor, “to inquire if 1 could have a little girl of about twelve years of age, bound out to me.”

“ Well,” hesitated the matron, looking at Josiah, and at the supper table, “ I don’t know how we can accommodate you. Superintendent’s away — ”

“I’m of opinion,” rejoined Miss Sally, “that if I can’t be accommodated to-day” (looking at the good things on the table) “ I’ll have to stay to supper and over night, for I’ve spent four and six

THE ARR/VAL AND RECEPTION

1 1 coming and it will cost as much to get back, and I ain’t going to spend it for nothing !”

Josiah cast a deprecatory glance at Miss Cynthia, who said, changing her mind very suddenly and illustrating the proverb, that circumstances alter cases :

“ Well, I don’t know, if Mr. Josiah will do the writing, I can go up and get Miss Pennimen to send the girls down.”

Her friend nodded assent, and the visitor adding rather sharply “I wish you would then,” Miss Cynthia departed on her errand ; she soon returned, half leading, half pushing, five girls before her into the room.

Three of them were large and strong, dark browed and sulky in appearance ; the fourth had red hair, was freckled and thin ; the fifth was pale and slender, but her large blue eyes, silky brown hair, that gave back a golden glow in the sunshine as it hung in curls round her neck, her sweet expression reminded one of the Madonnas of the old masters.

“I would advise you,” said the matron, “ to take one of these,” pointing to the three larger girls, “ you can get more work out of them.”

“ I’m much obliged to you for your advice, but I always follow my own judgment, and I choose this one,” turning to the last mentioned — “the others are strong, but whether you can make them put out their strength is another question. I’ve seen these strong sulky looking girls before, — and

A STRANGE DISCLOSURE.

I don’t want that one either, for red heads always have a terrible temper.”

One might have thought that the visitor selected her for her beauty, but this was not the case — she saw in her a meek, submissive slave, and that was what she wanted.

“I’m sure,” returned Miss Cynthia, “I don’t want to influence you, and, if that is your choice, it’s all the same to me. Violet,” she resumed, turning to the child, “ you can go upstairs and ask Miss Pennimen to give you your clothes and you can bid her goodby, if you wish.”

Then Miss Cynthia requested Mr. Josiah to make out the necessary writings which Miss Sally signed.

Violet left the room with tears in her eyes ; resistance she knew was out of the question. Bid her goodby if she wished!

What other thought could be uppermost in her mind, than that, making her heart beat as if it would burst. Bid her goodhy.^ if she wished! the only true friend she had ever known — taking the place of father and mother from her earliest recollection, ever since she was a tiny infant. She ran up the long flight of steps, for she knew it would give her more time. Reaching the room where the larger girls were busil}" at work, ranged round the walls on low seats, she ran across the floor — in defiance of all rules — and flinging her arms around the knees of a quiet, placid looking lady.

THE ARRIVAL AND RECEPTION.

who sat by a table overlooking the little workers, she cried, “ O, Miss Peace, Mis-s Peace, Pm the one ! O, O, O, Miss Peace !”

Here she was seized with a hysterical fit of sobbing. Miss Peace put her arms around her, smoothed her hair tenderly, kissed her and did all she could to soothe her; the sobs grew louder — this would not do. Miss Peace put her from her, saying mildly but firmly :

“ Thee. knew the time would come ; I have told thee often, to prepare thyself for it, and now th ee knows better than to make the parting harder — and to make me feel worse by thy tears !’’

“ O, Miss Peace, I never thought they would take me, because I ain’t strong, and the other girls are larger and can work better — I can’t leave youT

Here Miss Cynthia’s voice was heard at the foot of the staircase, crying, “ Come down ! you Violet ! what are you stopping so long for?”

“ This will never d6,” said Miss Peace, firmly; “thee knows I have always loved thee, but there is another loves thee better, and that is God ! He has always loved thee. He always will love thee ! He will go with thee to-day ! and now,” she added, “ if thee loves me, don’t cry any more ! thee will want to bid thy playmate goodby — Here Lizzie,” she said, addressing a black eyed, bold looking girl, “ come this way !”

Violet kissed her. Miss Peace took her hand and led her into the entry.

A STRANGE DISCLOSURE.

“ I am glad, Violet, that you are to leave your friend, Lizzie ; you may think this hard — but I feel she is not one who will make you any better. It grieves me,” she added, “ that I have not been allowed to teach you to read and that 3^011 only know your letters ; but perhaps the lady you live with, will instruct 3"OU, and now goodb}^” and giving her her little bundle of clothes and kissing her tenderly, she entered the work-room quickly, as if fearing to give wa}^ to her feelings.

Violet hurried down ; Miss Sally seized her hand, and giving Miss Cynthia and her friend a stiff and rather disdainful nod, she left the building and bent her course down the street towards the depot.

THE JOURNEY AND RETURN.

Chapter II. The Journey And Return

“ To dwell in peace with home affections bound, To know the sweetness of a mother’s voice, To feel the spirit of her love around,

And in the blessing of her age rejoice, —

No more ! ”

ALKING as fast as they could, they came in sight of the depot. Miss Sally slackened her pace and turning suddenly to Violet, said :

“ What’s them red eyes for? I’m sure I don’t know, you’ve just left the Poor House and you’re going to live in a genteel family, with me and my brother. Captain Peter ; I should think you’d jump for joy instead of crying your eyes as red as a rooster’s.”

Having made this speech, which seemed to her the philosoph}^ suited to the occasion, she hurried the child forward to the depot ; rushing up to the ticket office she bought a ticket for herself, and then stepped into the cars followed by Violet.

The exceeding beauty of the little girl attracted attention as they passed to their seats ; and an old sea captain, who sat behind them, could not help asking of Miss Sally, “ Is that your child, ma’am ? ”

i6

A STRANGE DISCLOSURE.

“ My child !” cried she, “ I’m a single woman !” and frowning severely on him, she turned square round, as if to avoid all questions.

The little girl forgot for a time her grief. She had never ridden in the cars before ; she saw there were no horses, and wondered who was dragging them, but she did not dare ask her companion.

On they went through the thick woods : pine and spruce waved their graceful branches, dressed in their robes of shining green ; the same green robes in which they had danced at Summer’s Ball, nodding and bowing, shaking out their scented garments over the moss carpeted rocks ; — the same green robes in which they had stood alone bravely meeting the winter storm, when they bowed and bent, and writhed and twisted, heedless of wind and sleet, if they could only repeat the message with which they were charged, saying to all who saw them, “ There is no real death ! beneath the deep, cold snow, beauty, bloom, life are folded up in earth’s safe keeping ; she will not send them forth, until we, the sentinels of this icy prison, send over our little wire-like roots, the message that all is ready !”

On they flew — the child watched the showers of thick, red sparks as they fell in the deepening twilight, among the smoky grass, like little fox berries nestling on the earth, or as they spread among the darkened outline of the trees, mimicing the ash berries or the antlered branches of the sum^c; this pleased her for some time. Soon

THE JOURNEY AND RETURN.

lights appeared in the little houses on the roadsides, on the hills, or twinkled afar off in the fields.

“ Those are happy homes,” thought Violet, “ there are children there, clustering round the supper tables ; they all have mothers who will give them their food, talk to them and play with them all the evening, hear them say their prayers and put them to bed, and I — I have no one to love me!”

The cars stopped at the different stations ; at one of them a party of four children got out : as they passed, Violet heard one of them say :

“Look! there’s our house and there’s mother at the door with a light !”

Then a gentleman went out with a little girl and she was saying, “I want to see mamma!” He answered, “You shall see her soon — mother’s waiting for you.”

Poor Violet ! this was too much — she burst into tears !

Just then a voice was heard to sa}^ “ Tickets ! tickets !” Miss Sally handed hers.

“ Where’s her ticket” said the man pointing at Violet.

“ You ain’t going to charge for her?”

“ Certainly, thirty-seven and a half cents.”

Miss Sally fumbled a long while, and then, from some deep abyss in her bright flowered gown, produced a stocking foot, that served her instead of a purse, filled with small pieces of money. She counted them deliberately.

A STRANGE DISCLOSURE.

“There’s ten and ten is twenty and five is twenty-five, and five is thirty, and five more is thirty-five and one is thirty-six and one is thirty-seven, and I aint got any half cent.”

The conductor laughed and passed on.

“There,” said Miss Sally, “remember that I paid money for you ; if anybody asks what I’ve done for you, remember that ! ”

“What!” exclaimed she, turning to the child, “ crying again. I’m sure I don’t know what you’re crying for — but I won’t have it, I won’t have it I” Fear of her companion stopped Violet’s tears ; she turned her head partly away, but occasionally cast cautious looks at her.

“Must I live with this ugly, cross woman?” thought she ; then she contrasted her bright, flaming gown, corkscrew curls, sharp features and ugly expression, with Miss Peace, wearing her dove-colored dress and neat, white collar, her soft, brown eyes and smooth, shining hair, her sweet, loving looks — then she remembered what she had told her, “ that God loved her and always would love her ; ” and that when Miss Peace told her about God, she thought that He must have brown eyes and look like her.

Then she felt comforted; “Who knows,” continued she to herself, “ but Captain Peter may be different from Miss Sally, he may love me !”

Miss Sally had said she didn’t know what Violet was crying for; to do her justice, she didn’t; for she had been one of those persons who never

THE JOURNEY AND RETURN.

knew a childhood, that is, never had any childish feelings ; she had never been afraid in the dark, never been enraptured with a plaything, never spent her time in happy idleness. As she sat at the child’s side she now and then looked at her.

“Well, I don’t know,” soliloquized she, “but what I’ve made a mistake in taking that cr}^ baby, instead of one of them strong-looking girls ; but I wouldn’t go back with her and let that Miss Cynthia know it for the world — I must make the best of her now I’ve got her ; she^s got to work, and she’s got to leave off crying for nothing.”

As she arrived at this conclusion, the cars stopped. “ Come,” said Miss Sally, turning to Violet, “ take 3'our bundle and follow me as fast as you can ; we’ve got to Chester, and I’m anxious to get home, for my brother. Captain Peter, will be expecting me.” They hurried down the main street, then entered a shady lane and at last came to an old house at the end of it.

Miss Sally ran up to the door and shook it \ steps were heard ; it was opened, a little black eyed girl appeared with a candle in her hand and looking very sleepy. “ O, Miss Sally,” she commenced, “ Gobbler” — She had no time to finish, for Miss Sally seized the candle and snatching a little sun bonnet from a nail near the door, gave the child a push that sent her tumbling over the doorstep upon the gravel in front of it.

“ Gobbler ! you dare speak of my brother. Captain Peter, so again !” and she slammed the door

A STRANGE DISCLOSURE.

to, and beckoning Violet to follow, they went into the kitchen. It was a dark, smoky-looking room : beams crossed the ceiling and filled the corners ; old, patched curtains flapped at the windows, that rattled with every breeze ; an aged settle stood beside the fire, on which lay a maltese cat ; a bureau was between the two front windows, over it was an old fashioned, oval mirror, crowned with some peacock’s feathers ; a few hard, stiff chairs and a table completed the furniture with one exception — this exception was something that attracted Violet’s attention as soon as she entered ; this something was a large chair on wheels, the back of it made to let down, forming a narrow couch ; on this, lying on his back, was a person who, from his large head covered with black, shaggy hair, and his black beard, appeared to be a man ; but the tiny hands and diminutive arms stretched out over the coverlid seemed to contradict it. He was asleep and his loud snoring resounded through the room.

Miss Sally walked to him lightly and kissed him on the forehead.

“Captain Peter’s asleep,” said she, “so much the better, I shall have time to get his supper before he wakes up.”

She went into the entry and hung her bonnet on a nail, then called to the child, “ Here, Violet, put your bundle on the bureau, and come and hang your shawl and shaker here.”

THE JOURNEY AND RETURN.

When this was done, and the child had seated herself on one of the chairs, Miss Sally opened a closet door, took out a cold chicken, cut some slices from the breast, and laid them on a plate ; then she stepped into the pantry adjoining and returned with a spider containing a slice of fat pork ; raking out the coals she placed the spider on them, preparatory towarming the chicken.

At this moment a pounding of little fists was heard on the door, and a little voice cried out, “ Miss Sally, Miss Sally ! I want my cents I Miss Sal-ly !”

“ O, dear,” exclaimed Miss Sally, “ there's that ugly child out there now; what do you want?” continued she going to the door.

“I want my money you said you’d give me!” returned the voice.

“ Your money I” retorted Miss Sally, “don’t call it yours till you get it I” then producing the stocking purse she took out five cents, opening the door with a sudden jerk, that pulled the little girl, who was leaning against it, flat on the floor ; which seemed to please Miss Sally mightily ; she threw out the coppers, saying, “ There it is, make much of it I”

Shutting the door, she went back to her cooking.

Another pounding of little flsts interrupted her, and the same little voice with a dolorous accent was heard.

“ Miss Sally ; I can’t find it !”

“ That girl will be the death of me,” said the spinster ; opening the pantry door she took down a lantern, lighted it and addressing Violet, said, “ Here, you may take this, and stand on the doorstep till she’s found it, and then tell her to go home. Stop a minute,” added she, as Violet rose, “ I’ll speak to her first. Now,” cried she, through the key-hole, “ you Kitty !”

“ Ma’am ?” in a subdued voice.

“ Will you remember not to call Captain Peter, Gobbler, again ?”

“ Ye-es ma’am.”

“Well, you’d better! now Violet” — and the child went out and stood on the door-step.

“ Here,” said Violet, “ Miss Sally told me to hold the light for you, and tell you when you’d found your cents, to go home.”

“ She’s a cross, ugly, old woman,” said the little girl sobbing, “ and she needn’t have told me to go home, for I shall go as fast as my legs will carry me, when I’ve found them — but I can’t find them.”

“Yes, you can,” said Violet, “ I’ll help you ; there’s one,” she continued, picking it up on the door-step, “ and I see another under that leaf” —

“And there’s another, and that’s three,” exclaimed the little girl ; then she whispered to Violet, as if fearful of Miss Sally’s hearing, “ Have you come to live with her?” pointing towards the house.

“ Yes,” replied Violet.

“Well, I pity you,” said Kitty.

“ Captain Peter Enjoyed Her Cooking.

t!

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“There’s the other two,” cried Violet, “and I must run into the house, for I’m afraid of her !”

“ Well, I ain’t, one mite,” exclaimed Kitty, who was very brave, when out of Miss Sally’s presence.

“ Don’t,” said Violet, “ I’m afraid she’ll hear you ! goodby, Kitty.”

“ Goodby,” said Kitty, “ I don’t know your name, little girl.”

“ My name is Violet,” answered the child, and she re-entered the house.

Captain Peter was by this time awake, and sat up in his chair, arrayed in all the glory of a red dressing gown and red cap ; Miss Sally had drawn the chair up before the table, and sat watching him as he did ample justice to her cookery.

Violet saw the reason that Kitty had called him Gobbler, — for he gobbled up his food in a very expeditious and noisy manner, using his little hands when Miss Sally’s eye was not on him, to cram his mouth full, and making a loud noise whenever he drank. He took no notice of Violet. Miss Sally handed her a thick slice of bread and a mug of milk, saying :

“ Ton can sit on the settle and Qdit. your supper, and you, old Grey,” addressing the cat, “ can go out into the woodshed.”

“What’s her name?” asked Violet.

“ Lady Jane Grey,” replied Miss Sally, “ and now finish up your supper, and listen to what I say

A STRANGE DISCLOSURE.

— I took you to live with me to work, I work all the time, and you’ve got to, so you can make up your mind to do it — you’re to mind everything I say, if you don’t there’s a graveyard back of the house, and it’s full of spirits in the night, and if you don’t mind. I’ll call ’em to carry you off.”

Violet heard her, half dead with fear.

“ Now,” continued Miss Sally, taking up the candle, “ I’ll show you your bed, you can take hold of the banisters and feel your way up, for you’ll have to go up in the dark after this'".”

They went up two flights of stairs and reached the entrance of the garret. “There’s a line,” said Miss Sally, “ take hold of it and walk to the end of the garret and you’ll find your bed — and remember you’re to be up at the first peep of light.”

Then she left her and went down.

The rays of the candle grew fainter and disappeared, ^nd Violet was left alone in the great gloomy garret. By the faint light of the candle she had caught a glimpse of it ; lines of clothes hung across, seeming to her excited imagination like huge spectres shaking their long arms at her ; festoons of spiders’ webs hung and floated from the beams.

“ These,” she thought, “ are full of great black and yellow spiders, and they’ll crawl all over the bed but the thought of the spiders did not alarm her as much as that of the spirits. “ What if they should rise up out of the graveyard and come up here !” she stood for some moments almost paralyzed with fear, — at last she roused herself, and taking off her clothes, crept into the little bed. She thought of Miss Peace and tried to say her prayers, but the thought and the prayer failed to comfort her. She heard the old beams cracking ; and an old Balm of Gilead tree behind the house beat on the roof and sighed and rustled in the wind.

“All the noises come from the graveyard,” whispered Violet to herself, “ those are the spirits !”

She lay trembling, when she heard steps round the garret —

“ O, mercy, mercy,” sobbed she, “ there’s one coming to carry me off!”

Fear of her dread mistress, kept her silent; nearer and nearer came the steps, they approached the bed — Violet drew her head under the bed clothes and held them tightly with one hand ; something jumped on the bed — the child was almost fainting, when she felt soft fur rubbing against the hand that was outside the quilt — what a relief I —

“ Poor old Grazy,” said Violet putting down the quilt, “ is thatyou? Oh, you beauty, come in here,” and taking her in her arms, she talked to and caressed her, until comforted, she fell asleep.

That which the thought of Miss Peace and the prayer could not do, was accomplished by this dumb animal. Poor Human Nature ! ever seeking companionship ! who shall despise the little things, the instruments, animate or inanimate, that

A STRANGE DISCLOSURE.

minister to and comfort thee, amid the fears and despondencies of this life? The heart that cannot reach, cannot attain unto the Infinite, finds the connecting links in the great chain that binds it to its Heavenly Father, be they ever so small !

THE SEXTO N-'S FAMILY.

Chapter III. The Sexton’s Family

“ Intemperance still with its magic chain Binds down the weak and the strong.”

‘ ‘ They are like demons who would bring The nectar that might tempt to sip ! ”

T the end of the grassy lane leading to Miss Sally’s house was a small cottage ; the roof, overgrown with mosses and lichens sloping down to the tops of the diamond-paned windows that were half hidden with climbing vines, woodbines and honeysuckles, presented the appearance of a large moss basket ; in front of the windows was a row of rose bushes and lilacs, while a neat border of pinks separated them from the grass.

This was the dwelling of Ben Coplin, the sexton of the village.

The morning after the incidents we have related, the sun was just rising, when Christopher, or Kris as he was commonly called (the sexton’s son), rose, crept softly down the stairs, made a fire and prepared to get breakfast. “ Mother’s tired,” said he to himself, “ and I’ll get breakfast and surprise her.”

A STRANGE DISCLOSURE.

Then he set about it as handy as a woman. He made the fire burn clear, filled the tea-kettle and hung it over the blaze ; then he pulled out the little table, covered it with a white cloth, brought from the closet a tray containing the cups and saucers, the milk pitcher, the sugar bowl, knives, plates, forks and spoons. He put the plates round the table with a knife and fork at each plate ; then taking out a large loaf from the closet, he cut it in slices and toasted it before the fire. The tea-kettle boiled by this time, and taking the coffee pot, that his mother’s hand had prepared the night before, he filled it and set it on the coals.