More about Bessy
She saw Bessy amongst some gooseberry bushes]
It may be supposed that Mrs. Goodriche gave some good advice to herniece whilst they were in their room, for Miss Bessy came down lookingrather sulky, and said very little at breakfast; only that sheattempted several times to hold discourse with Lucy in whispers, forwhich they were quietly called to order by Lucy's father.
Mr. Fairchild said:
"You must not whisper at table, my dears, for we are met to makeourselves agreeable either by talking or attentive listening."
After breakfast Mrs. Fairchild said:
"As we hope your visit, Mrs. Goodriche, will be a long one, we will, ifyou please, go on with our plans. I shall go into my school-room withmy little girls, and leave you and Bessy to yourselves; you will see usagain about twelve o'clock."
"Very right," replied Mrs. Goodriche, with a smile; "and I trust thatBessy and I shall be as busy as you will be."
So Mrs. Goodriche went to her room, and when she came back with twolarge bags and several books, there was no Miss Bessy to be found.
She, however, was, for an old person, very active, with all her sensesabout her, and off she trotted after her niece, finding her, after sometrouble, chattering to Mag, who was hung in a cage before the kitchenwindow. She brought her into the parlour, saying:
"Come, niece, let us follow a good example, and make the best use ofthese quiet morning hours."
Bessy muttered something which Mrs. Goodriche did not choose to hear,but when she got into the parlour, she threw herself back on the sofaas if she were dying of fatigue.
Mrs. Goodriche handed a Bible to her, saying:
"We will begin the morning with our best book: you shall read a chapterwhilst I go on with my work; come, find your place--where did we leaveoff?"
Bessy opened the Bible, fetching at the same time a deep sigh, and,after some minutes, began to read.
Mrs. Goodriche could have sighed too, but she did not.
Bessy was a most careless reader; she hated all books; indeed, her auntthought that, from never having been exercised in anything but learningcolumns of spelling, she had hardly the power of putting any sense, inher own mind, to the simplest story-book which could be put into herhands.
It was heavy work to sit and hear her blunder through a chapter; but,when that was finished, the kind aunt tried at some little explanation;after which she set her to write in a copy-book. Mrs. Goodrichedictated what she was to write: it was generally something of what shehad herself said about the chapter; but what with blots, and badspelling, and crooked lines, poor Bessy's book was not fit to be seen.
This exercise filled up nearly an hour, and a most heavy hour it was:and then Mrs. Goodriche produced a story-book--one lent to her by Mrs.Fairchild--which, being rather of a large size, did not quite appear tobe only fit for children; what this book was I do not know.
"Now, my dear," she said, "you will have great pleasure in reading thisbook to me, I am sure; but before we begin I must fetch another bit ofwork: I have done what I brought down."
"La!" said Miss Bessy, "how fond you are of sewing!"
"Don't you remember, Bessy," replied Mrs. Goodriche, "that I neverattend to anything you say when you begin with 'la'!"
"We always said it at school," she answered.
"May be so," replied Mrs. Goodriche, "and you may say it here, if youplease; but, as I tell you, I shall never attend to anything you saywhen you put in any words of that kind."
"La!" cried Miss Bessy again, really not knowing that she was sayingthe word.
Mrs. Goodriche went up for her work, and when she returned, as shemight have expected, her bird was flown; and when she looked for her,she saw her amongst some gooseberry bushes, feeding herself as fast asshe could. When she got her into the parlour again, "Bessy," she said,"did you ever read the story of Dame Trot and her Cat?"
"I know it," answered Bessy.
"Now," added Mrs. Goodriche, "I am thinking that I am very like DameTrot; she never left her house but she found her cat at some prank whenshe returned, and I never leave the room but I find you off and atsome trick or another when I come back; but now for our book."
Bessy, before she took her book, rubbed her hands down the sides of herfrock to clean them from any soil they might have got from thegooseberries. It was a new black cotton, with small white spots, andwas none the better for having been made a hand-towel.
Mrs. Goodriche saw this neat trick, but she felt that if she foundfault with everything amiss in her niece, she should have nothing elseto do; so she let that pass.
Bessy, at last, opened the book and began to read.
The first story began with the account of a lady and gentleman who hadone son and a daughter, of whom they were vastly fond, and whom theyindulged in everything they could desire, which (as the writer sagelyhinted) they had cause to repent before many years had passed.
"Whilst their children were little, there was nothing in the shape oftoys which were not got for them; dolls, whips, tops, carts, and allother sorts of playthings, were heaped up in confusion in theirplay-room; but they were not content with wooden toys--they had nodelight in those but to break them in pieces. They were ever greedyafter nice things to eat, and when they got them, made themselves oftensick by eating too much of them. Once Master Tommy actually ate up----"
In this place Bessy stopped to turn over a leaf with her thumb, andthen went on, first repeating the last words of the first page.
"--Master Tommy actually ate up the real moon out of the sky."
"What! What!" cried Mrs. Goodriche; "ate the moon? Are you sure,Bessy?"
"_'What! What!' cried Mrs. Goodriche._"--Page 305.]
"Yes, it is here," replied Bessy; "the real moon out of the sky--theseare the very words."
"Nonsense!" said Mrs. Goodriche; "dear child, you are reading nonsense;don't you perceive it?"
"I don't know," replied Bessy, gaping; "I was not attending--what isit?"
"Don't you know what you have been reading?" asked Mrs. Goodriche.
"To be sure I do," answered Bessy, "or how could I have told the wordsright?"
"But the sense?" asked Mrs. Goodriche.
"I was not happening," replied Bessy, "just to be thinking about that.I was thinking just then, aunt, of the horrid fright Sukey was in whenthe bricks came rolling down, and how she did scream."
"Give me the book," said Mrs. Goodriche, almost at the end of herpatience; "we will read no more to-day; go up and fetch thatunfortunate bombazine frock, it must be darned; you have no other here,or indeed made, but that you have on."
Away ran Bessy, glad to be moving; and when Mrs. Goodriche had lookedat the book, she found that Bessy had turned over two leaves,--thatTommy had once eaten a whole pound-cake in a very short time, and thathe had cried the whole of the evening for the real moon out of the sky.
It might have been thought, from the time that she was absent, thatBessy had gone to the top of the barn to fetch her frock; the truth is,that it was some time before she could find it; she had thrown it onthe drawers when she had taken it off, and it had slipped down behindthem, to use an expression of her own. It was all covered over withdust, and the trimming crumpled past recovery; but she gave it a goodshaking, and down she came, not in the least troubled at the accident.When she got into the parlour, she found Lucy and Emily seated eachwith her small task of needlework; their other lessons were finished;and Mrs. Fairchild, too, appeared with her work.
Mrs. Goodriche had desired to hear the story in Emily's new book, andthey were each to read four pages at once, then to pass the book; andthey had settled to begin with the eldest.
"I always think," said Lucy, "that when everything is done but ourwork, it is so comfortable; and when there is to be reading, I work sofast."
There was a little delay whilst Bessy was set to darn, and then Mrs.Goodriche read her four pages, and read them very pleasantly. The bookwas next given to Mrs. Fairchild, who passed i
t to Bessy.
"Where does it begin?" she said.
"At the top of the ninth page, Bessy," said Mrs. Fairchild.
There was another pause; and then Bessy started much like a personrunning a race, reading as fast as she could, till, like the samerunner, when he comes to a stumbling-stone, she broke down over thefirst hard word, which happened to be at the end of the secondsentence.
Mrs. Fairchild gently set her right, and she went on a little till shecame to another word, which she miscalled, so that Mrs. Goodriche, whohad not heard the story before, could not understand what she wasreading about.
Emily looked down, and became quite red.
Lucy looked up full of wonder, and half inclined to smile; but a gentlelook from her mother reminded her what civility and kindness requiredof her. Her mother's look seemed to say, "You ought to pity and not tolaugh at one who has not been so well taught as yourself;" and sheinstantly looked down, and seemed to give her whole thoughts to herwork.
"Bessy," said Mrs. Goodriche, "you had best pass the book to Lucy; Iam sure that you will try to improve yourself against the next time youare asked to read aloud in company."
"I shall never make much of reading, aunt," she answered carelessly; "Ihate it so."
The reading then went on till one o'clock, and there was enough of thestory left for another day. The work was then put up, and the childrenwere at liberty till dinner-time; but the day was very hot, so therecould be no walk till the evening.
"Now," said Mrs. Goodriche, "before we part, you shall see somethingout of this bag; it is full of pieces from my old great store-chest;there are three pieces of old brocade silk," and she spread them out onthe table. They all looked as if they had been short sleeves; one wasgreen, with purple and gold flowers as large as roses; another waspink, what is called _clouded_ with blue, green, and violet: and thethird was dove-colour, with running stripes of satin. "Now," she said,"each of you, my little girls, shall have one of these pieces, and youshall make what you please of it; and when you have made the best youcan of the silk, you shall show your work to me, and I shall see who isworthy of more pieces, for I have more in this bag."
"If any of you, my dears," said Mrs. Fairchild, "should want littlebits of ribbon or lining to help out what you wish to make, I shallgladly supply them; indeed," she added, "I may as well give what may bewanted now;" and having fetched a bag of odds and ends, she gave outsome bits of coloured ribbon to suit the silks, with sewing silks andlinings, such as her bag would afford, placing her gifts in equalportions on the three pieces of silk.
"And now," said Mrs. Goodriche, "who is to choose first?"
"Lucy and Emily," said Bessy; and Lucy wished Bessy to choose first.After a little while this matter was settled; Emily had the green withthe golden flowers, Lucy the clouded pink, and Bessy the striped; butbefore they took them from the table, Mrs. Goodriche told them thatthey were only to have them on these conditions--that they were not toconsult each other about the use they were to make of them; nor to getanybody to help in cutting them out, and not to tell what they weredoing till they brought what they had made to her.
"Then, Lucy, you must not ask me," said Emily; "I will not ask you."
"I shall make no inquiries," said Mrs. Fairchild; "you may work at yourthings in any of your play hours excepting the walking time. Emily maywork in my room, and Lucy in her own, because you must not be together;and if I come into my room, I shall not look at what you are doing,Emily."
Lucy and Emily took up their bits, all joy and delight, and full ofthought; but Bessy was not so well pleased; she hated work as much asreading, and perhaps from the same reason, that she had neither gotover the drudgery of work nor of reading. The beginning of all learningis dry, and stupid, and painful; but many things are delightful, whenwe can do them easily, which are most disagreeable when we first beginthem.
After this day, things passed on till the end of the week much as wehave said. Lucy and Emily were always very busy in their differentplaces, from dinner to tea-time. Henry was often, at those times, withJohn; and where Miss Bessy was Mrs. Goodriche did not know, because shehad proposed to go and work in Henry's arbour. Her aunt could notfollow her everywhere, so she only made herself sure that she did notgo beyond the garden, and she did not ask whether she spent half hertime in the kitchen, for she was not afraid that Betty would hurt her.
"When am I to see the pieces of work?" said Mrs. Goodriche on theSaturday morning.
"Before tea, ma'am," replied Lucy; "Emily and I are ready, but we don'tknow whether Bessy is--we can wait if she is not."
"Oh, I am ready," answered Bessy; "my silk is done."
The tea-things were on the table when Emily came in first with an openbasket--whatever was in it was hidden by a piece of white paper. Lucyfollowed with a neat little parcel, carefully rolled up; and Bessyfollowed, with a hand in one of her pockets, and a smile on her face,though she looked red and rather confused.
"I shall look at the little market-woman with her basket first," saidMrs. Goodriche; and Emily went up to her with a sweet pleasant smile,as if she felt sure that she had some very pretty things to show. Shetook up the white paper, and discovered three pin-cushions, very nicelymade: they were so contrived that there was a gold and purple flower inthe centre of each pin-cushion on both sides: the cushions were square,well stuffed, and pinched in the middle of each side; they had a tasselat every corner, made of the odd bits of silk roved, and to each ofthem was a long bit of ribbon. Emily's face flushed like a rosebud whenshe laid them on the table. "Very, very good," said Mrs. Goodriche;"and you did them all yourself?"
"Yes, ma'am," said Emily. "I made the insides first, and stuffed themwith bran, before I put the silk on."
"Now for Lucy," said Mrs. Goodriche; and Lucy, opening her parcel,showed an old-fashioned housewife with many pockets: she had managedher silk so, that the clouds upon it formed borders for the outsideand each pocket; she had overcast a piece of flannel for the needles,and put a card under that part of the housewife; she had lined it tomake it strong, and had put some ribbon to tie it with, and had made acase for it of printed calico, and a button and a button-hole.
"Very, very good, too," said Mrs. Goodriche; "let it be placed by thepin-cushions; and now for Bessy."
Bessy began to giggle and to move herself about in a very uneasy way.
"If you have nothing to show, Bessy," said her aunt; "or if you are notready, we will excuse you."
"It does not signify," answered Bessy, "I am as ready now as I evershall be. I can make nothing of the silk."
"Have you lost it?" asked her aunt.
"No," she answered; "I have it--you may as well see it at once;" anddiving again into her pocket, she brought out what looked very like apiece of blotting-paper which had been well used, and laid it on thetable. "I could not help it," she said; "but I had it on the table onemorning, when I was in this room alone, and I tumbled over the inkstandright upon it; and I thought it was lucky that almost all the ink hadfallen on the silk, and not on the cloth; so, as it was spoiledalready, I used it to wipe up the rest of the ink, and that is thewhole truth."
Mrs. Goodriche, though vexed, could not keep herself from smiling,which Bessy seeing, tried to turn the whole affair into a laugh; but itwas not a merry laugh.
"Well, take it away, my dear," said Mrs. Goodriche; "put it by to wipeyour pens with;" and away ran Bessy out of the room, not to laugh whenby herself, but to cry: and this, we are glad to say, was not the firsttime that the poor motherless girl had shed tears for her own follieswithin the last day or two.
When she had left the room, Mrs. Goodriche said:
"Poor young creature! I am sorry for her."
"Yes, ma'am," said Lucy, "because she has had no mamma for many years;but Emily and I begin to love her, she is so good-tempered."
"God will bless her," said Mrs. Fairchild; "He has shown His love bygiving her a friend who will be a mother to her."
"But now, my little girls," said Mrs. Goo
driche, "these things whichyou have made so prettily are your own."
"Thank you, ma'am," they both answered; "and may we do what we likewith them?"
"To be sure," replied Mrs. Goodriche.
"Then," said Emily, "I shall give one to Mary Bush, and another toMargery, and another to Mrs. Trueman, for their best pin-cushions."
"And I shall give this housewife to nurse," said Lucy.
"I suppose," said Mrs. Goodriche, "that you will like to have themfurnished for the poor women; I will give what pins and needles can befound on Monday morning; and at the same time I have for each of you apiece of nice flowered chintz for your dolls."
The little girls kissed the old lady with all their hearts, and ranaway with the things which they had made: it was agreed that they werenot to talk of them again before Bessy.
The Fairchild Family Page 33