Bessie and Her Friends

by Joanna H. Mathews

  VI.

  _UNCLE RUTHVEN._

  Christmas brought no Uncle Ruthven, but Christmas week brought MissElizabeth Rush, the sweet "Aunt Bessie" whom all the children lovedso dearly. And it was no wonder they were fond of her, for she wasalmost as gentle and patient with them as mamma herself; and, like herbrother, the colonel, had a most wonderful gift of story-telling, whichshe was always ready to put in use for them. Maggie and Bessie weremore than ever sure that there were never such delightful people astheir own, or two such happy children as themselves.

  "I think we're the completest family that ever lived," said Maggie,looking around the room with great satisfaction, one evening whenColonel and Mrs. Rush were present.

  "Yes," said Bessie; "I wonder somebody don't write a book about us."

  "And call it 'The Happy Family,'" said Fred, mischievously, "afterthose celebrated bears and dogs and cats and mice who live together inthe most peaceable manner so long as they have no teeth and claws, butwho immediately fall to and eat one another up as soon as these areallowed to grow."

  "If there is a bear among us, it must be yourself, sir," said thecolonel, playfully pinching Fred's ear.

  "I don't know," said Fred, rubbing the ear; "judging from your claws, Ishould say you were playing that character, colonel; while I shall haveto take that of the unlucky puppy who has fallen into your clutches."

  "I am glad you understand yourself so well, any way," returned ColonelRush, drily.

  Fred and the colonel were very fond of joking and sparring in thisfashion, but Bessie always looked very sober while it was going on;for she could not bear anything that sounded like disputing, even inplay; and perhaps she was about right.

  But all this had put a new idea into that busy little brain ofMaggie's. "Bessie," she said, the next morning, "I have a secret totell you, and you must not tell any one else."

  "Not mamma?" asked Bessie.

  "No, we'll tell mamma we have a secret, and we'll let her know by andby; but I want her to be very much surprised as well as the rest of thepeople. Bessie, I'm going to write a book, and you may help me, if youlike."

  "Oh!" said Bessie. "And what will it be about, Maggie?"

  "About ourselves. You put it in my head to do it, Bessie. But then Isha'n't put in our real names, 'cause I don't want people to know it isus. I made up a name last night. I shall call my people the Happys."

  "And shall you call the book 'The Happy Family'?" asked Bessie.

  "No; I think we will call it 'The Complete Family,'" said Maggie. "Thatsounds nicer and more booky; don't you think so?"

  "Yes," said Bessie, looking at her sister with great admiration. "Andwhen are you going to begin it?"

  "To-day," said Maggie. "I'll ask mamma for some paper, and I'll writesome every day till it's done; and then I'll ask papa to take it to thebookmaker; and when the book is made, we'll sell it, and give the moneyto the poor. I'll tell you what, Bessie, if Policeman Richards' blindboy is not cured by then, we'll give it to him to pay his doctor."

  "You dear Maggie!" said Bessie. "Will you yite a piece that I make upabout yourself?"

  "I don't know," said Maggie; "I'll see what you say. I wouldn't likepeople to know it was me."

  The book was begun that very day, but it had gone little farther thanthe title and chapter first, before they found they should be obligedto take mamma into the secret at once. There were so many long wordswhich they wished to use, but which they did not know how to spell,that they saw they would have to be running to her all the time. Totheir great delight, mamma gave Maggie a new copy-book to write in, andthey began again. As this was a stormy day, they could not go out, sothey were busy a long while over their book. When, at last, Maggie'sfingers were tired, and it was put away, it contained this satisfactorybeginning:--

  "THE COMPLETE FAMILY.

  "A TALE OF HISTORY.

  "CHAPTER I.

  "Once upon a time, there lived a family named Happy; only that was nottheir real name, and you wish you had known them, and they are aliveyet, because none of them have died. This was the most interestingand happiest family that ever lived. And God was so very good to themthat they ought to have been the best family; but they were not exceptonly the father and mother; and sometimes they were naughty, but 'mostalways afterwards they repented, so God forgave them.

  "This family were very much acquainted with some very great friends oftheirs, and the colonel was very brave, and his leg was cut off; butnow he is going to get a new leg, only it is a make believe."

  This was all that was done the first day; and that evening a verywonderful and delightful thing occurred, which Maggie thought wouldmake her book more interesting than ever.

  There had been quite a family party at dinner, for it was Aunt Bessie'sbirthday, and the colonel and Mrs. Rush were always considered asbelonging to the family now. Besides these, there were grandmammaand Aunt Annie, Grandpapa Duncan, Uncle John, and Aunt Helen, allassembled to do honor to Aunt Bessie.

  Dinner was over, and all, from grandpapa to baby, were gathered inthe parlor, when there came a quick, hard pull at the door-bell. Twomoments later, the parlor door was thrown open, and there stood a tall,broad figure in a great fur overcoat, which, as well as his long, curlybeard, was thickly powdered with snow. At the first glance, he looked,except in size, not unlike the figure which a few weeks since hadcrowned their Christmas-tree; and in the moment of astonished silencewhich followed, Franky, throwing back his head and clapping his hands,shouted, "Santy Caus, Santy Caus!"

  But it was no Santa Claus, and in spite of the muffling furs and theheavy beard, in spite of all the changes which ten long years ofabsence had made, the mother's heart, and the mother's eye knew herson, and rising from her seat with a low cry of joy, Mrs. Stantonstretched her hands towards the stranger, exclaiming, "My boy!Ruthven, my boy!" and the next moment she was sobbing in his arms. Thenhis sisters were clinging about him, and afterwards followed such akissing and hand-shaking!

  It was an evening of great joy and excitement, and although it was longpast the usual time when Maggie and Bessie went to bed, they could notgo to sleep. At another time nurse would have ordered them to shuttheir eyes and not speak another word; but to-night she seemed to thinkit quite right and natural that they should be so very wide awake, andnot only gave them an extra amount of petting and kissing, but toldthem stories of Uncle Ruthven's pranks when he was a boy, and of hiswonderful sayings and doings, till mamma, coming up and finding thisgoing on, was half inclined to find fault with the old woman herself.Nurse had quite forgotten that, in those days, she told Uncle Ruthven,as she now told Fred, that he was "the plague of her life," and that he"worried her heart out." Perhaps she did not really mean it with theone more than with the other.

  Bessie's Friends. p. 124.]

  "And to think of him," she said, wiping the tears of joy from hereyes,--"to think of him asking for his old mammy 'most before he haddone with his greetings to the gentlefolks! And him putting his armabout me and giving me a kiss as hearty as he used when he was a boy;and him been all over the world seein' all sorts of sights and doin's.The Lord bless him! He's got just the same noble, loving heart, if hehas got all that hair about his face."

  Uncle Ruthven's tremendous beard was a subject of great astonishmentto all the children. Fred saucily asked him if he had come home toset up an upholsterer's shop, knowing he could himself furnish plentyof stuffing for mattresses and sofas. To which his uncle replied thatwhen he did have his beard cut, it should be to furnish a rope to bindFred's hands and feet with.

  Maggie was very eager to write down the account of Uncle Ruthven'shome-coming in her history of "The Complete Family," and as mamma'stime was more taken up than usual just now, she could not run to herso often for help in her spelling. So the next two days a few mistakeswent down, and the story ran after this fashion:--

  "The Happys had a very happy thing happen to them witch delited themvery much. They had a travelling uncle who came home to them at last;but he stai
d away ten years and did not come home even to see hismother, and I think he ort to don't you? But now he is come and hasbrought so many trunks and boxes with such lots and lots of things andkurositys in them that he is 'most like a Norz' Ark only better, andhis gret coat and cap are made of the bears' skins he shot and he tellsus about the tigers and lions and I don't like it and Fred and Harrydo and Bessie don't too. And he is so nice and he brought presents forevery boddy and nurse a shawl that she's going to keep in her willtill she dies for Harry's wife, and he has not any and says he won'tbecause Uncle Ruthven has no wife. That is all to-day my fingers arekrampd."

  Strange to say, Maggie was at home with the new uncle much sooner thanBessie. Little Bessie was not quite sure that she altogether approvedof Uncle Ruthven, or that it was quite proper for this stranger to comewalking into the house and up-stairs at all hours of the day, kissingmamma, teasing nurse, and playing and joking with the children, justas if he had been at home there all his life. Neither would she rompwith him as the other children did, looking gravely on from some quietcorner at their merry frolics, as if she half-disapproved of it all. SoUncle Ruthven nicknamed her the "Princess," and always called her "yourhighness" and "your grace," at which Bessie did not know whether to bepleased or displeased. She even looked half-doubtfully at the wonderfulstories he told, though she never lost a chance of hearing one. UncleRuthven was very fond of children, though he was not much accustomedto them, and he greatly enjoyed having them with him, telling Mrs.Bradford that he did not know which he liked best,--Bessie with herdainty, quiet, ladylike little ways, or Maggie with her half-shy,half-roguish manner, and love of fun and mischief. Maggie and all theboys were half wild about him, and as for baby, if she could havespoken, she would have said that never was there such an uncle forjumping and tossing. The moment she heard his voice, her hands and feetbegan to dance, and took no rest till he had her in his arms; whilemamma sometimes feared the soft little head and the ceiling might cometo too close an acquaintance.

  "Princess," said Mr. Stanton, one evening, when he had been home abouta fortnight, catching up Bessie, as she ran past him, and seating herupon the table, "what is that name your highness calls me?"

  "I don't call you anything but Uncle Yuthven," answered Bessie, gravely.

  "That is it," said her uncle. "What becomes of all your r's? SayRuthven."

  "Er--er--er--Yuthven," said Bessie, trying very hard at the r.

  Mr. Stanton shook his head and laughed.

  "I can talk plainer than I used to," said Bessie. "I used to call AuntBessie's name very crooked, but I don't now."

  "What did you use to call it?"

  "I used to say _Libasus_; but now I can say it plain, _Lisabus_."

  "A vast improvement, certainly," said Mr. Stanton, "but you can'tmanage the R's yet, hey? Well, they will come one of these days, Isuppose."

  "They'd better," said Fred, who was hanging over his uncle's shoulder,"or it will be a nice thing when she is a young lady for her to goturning all her R's into Y's. People will call her crooked-tongued MissBradford."

  "You don't make a very pleasant prospect for me to be in," saidBessie, looking from brother to uncle with grave displeasure, "and ifa little boy like you, Fred, says that to me when I am a big lady, Ishall say, 'My dear, you are very impertinent.'"

  "And quite right, too," said Uncle Ruthven. "If all the little boys donot treat you with proper respect, Princess, just bring them to me, andI will teach them good manners."

  Bessie made no answer, for she felt rather angry, and, fearing shemight say something naughty, she wisely held her tongue; and slippingfrom her uncle's hold, she slid to his knee, and from that to thefloor, running away to Aunt Bessie for refuge.

  After the children had gone to bed, Uncle Ruthven went up to Mrs.Bradford's room, that he might have a quiet talk with this his favoritesister. Mrs. Bradford was rocking her baby to sleep, which business wasrather a serious one, for not the least talking or moving about couldgo on in the room but this very young lady must have a share in it.The long lashes were just drooping upon the round, dimpled cheek whenUncle Ruthven's step was heard.

  "Ah-oo-oo," said the little wide-awake, starting up with a crow ofwelcome to the playfellow she liked so well.

  Mamma laid the little head down again, and held up a warning fingerto Uncle Ruthven, who stole softly to a corner, where he was out ofMiss Baby's sight and hearing, to wait till she should be fairly offto dreamland. This brought him near the door of Maggie's and Bessie'sroom, where, without intending it, he heard them talking. Not hearinghis voice, they thought he had gone away again, and presently Maggiesaid in a low tone, that she might not rouse baby, "Bessie, have youobjections to Uncle Ruthven?"

  "Yes," answered Bessie, slowly,--"yes, Maggie, I think I have. I trynot to, but I'm 'fraid I do have a little objections to him."

  "But why?" asked Maggie. "_I_ think he is lovely."

  "I don't know," said Bessie. "But, Maggie, don't you think he makespretty intimate?"

  "Why, yes," said Maggie; "but then he's our uncle, you know. I guess hehas a right if he has a mind to."

  "But he makes more intimate than Uncle John, and we've known him everso long, and Uncle Yuthven only a little while. Why, Maggie, he kissesmamma!"

  "Well, he is her own brother," said Maggie, "and Uncle John is only herstep-brother,--no, that's not it--her brother-of-law--that's it."

  "What does that mean, Maggie?"

  "It means when somebody goes and marries your sister. If somebodymarried me, he'd be your brother-of-law."

  "He sha'n't!" said Bessie, quite excited. "He's a horrid old thing, andhe sha'n't do it!"

  "Who sha'n't do what?" asked Maggie, rather puzzled.

  "That person, that brother-of-law; he sha'n't marry you; you are my ownMaggie."

  "Well, he needn't if you don't want him to," said Maggie, quite as wellcontented to settle it one way as the other. "And you needn't feel sobad, and sit up in bed about it, Bessie, 'cause you'll take cold, andmamma forbid it."

  "So she did," said Bessie, lying down again with a sigh. "Maggie, I'm'fraid I'm naughty to-night. I forgot what mamma told me, and I wasnaughty to Uncle Yuthven."

  "What did you say?"

  "I didn't _say_ anything, but I felt very passionate, and I thoughtnaughty things,--how I'd like to give him a good slap when he teasedme, and, Maggie, for a moment I 'most thought I wished he did not comehome. I am going to tell him I'm sorry, the next time he comes."

  "I wouldn't," said Maggie, who was never as ready as Bessie toacknowledge that she had been wrong; "not if I didn't do or sayanything."

  "I would," said Bessie. "It is naughty to feel so; and you know there'sno 'scuse for me to be passionate like there was for Aunt Patty, 'causemy people are so very wise, and teach me better. And it grieves Jesuswhen we feel naughty, and he saw my naughty heart to-night."

  "Then ask him to forgive you," said Maggie.

  "So I did; but I think he'll know I want to be better if I ask UncleYuthven too."

  "Well," said Maggie, "maybe he will. But, Bessie, why do you speakabout yourself as if you are like Aunt Patty. You're not a bit likeher."

  "But I might be, if I wasn't teached better," said Bessie, "and ifJesus didn't help me. Poor Aunt Patty! Papa said she was to be pitied."

  "I sha'n't pity her, I know," said Maggie.

  "But, Maggie, mamma said we ought to try and feel kind to her, and tobe patient and good to her when she came here, 'cause she's gettingvery old, and there's nobody to love her, or take care of her. I am'fraid of her, but I am sorry for her."

  "If she has nobody to take care of her, let her go to the OrphanAsylum," said Maggie. "I just hope papa will send her there, 'cause wedon't want to be bothered with her."

  "And don't you feel a bit sorry for her, Maggie?"

  "No, not a bit; and I'm not going to, either. She is quite a disgraceto herself, and so she'd better stay at her house up in the mountains."

  Maggie, in her turn, was growing quit
e excited, as she always didwhen she talked or thought of Aunt Patty. It was some time since thechildren had done either, for Christmas, Aunt Bessie, and Uncle Ruthvenhad given them so much else to think about, that they had almostforgotten there was such a person.

  And now mamma, who had laid baby in her cradle, coming in to stopthe talking, was sorry to hear her little girls speaking on the old,disagreeable subject. She told them they must be still, and go tosleep. The first command was obeyed at once, but Maggie did not findthe second quite so easy; and she lay awake for some time imaginingall kinds of possible and impossible quarrels with Aunt Patty, andinventing a chapter about her for "The Complete Family."

  While little Maggie was thinking thus of Aunt Patty, the old lady, inher far-away home, was wondering how she might best contrive to gainthe hearts of her young nieces and nephews, for she was not the samewoman she had been four years ago. During the last few months a newknowledge and a new life had come to her, making her wish to live inpeace and love with every one. But she did not know how to set aboutthis; for the poor lady had grown old in the indulgence of a badtemper, a proud spirit, and a habit of desiring to rule all about her;and now it was not easy to change all this. She had humbled herself atthe feet of her Lord and Saviour, but it was hard work to do it beforeher fellow-men. She could not quite resolve to say to those whom shehad grieved and offended by her violence and self-will, "I have donewrong, but now I see my sin, and wish, with God's help, to lead a newlife."

  Still, she longed for the love and friendship she had once cast fromher, and her lonely heart craved for some care and affection. She wellknew that Mr. and Mrs. Bradford would be only too ready to forgive andforget all that was disagreeable in the past, and she also felt thatthey would do nothing to prejudice the minds of their children againsther. She thought she would go to them, and try to be gentle and loving,and so perhaps she should win back their hearts, and gain those oftheir little ones. But old habit and the old pride were still strongwithin her, and so, when she wrote to Mr. Bradford to say she wascoming to make them a visit, she gave no sign that she was sorry forthe past, and would like to make amends.

  But shortly before the time she had fixed for the visit, somethinghappened which caused her to change her purpose, and she chose to saynothing of her reasons for this, only sending word that she could notcome before spring, perhaps not then. Now, again she had altered herplans, and this time she chose to take them all by surprise, and to goto Mr. Bradford's without warning.

  "Margaret," said Mr. Stanton softly, as his sister came from thebedside of her little girls, and they went to the other side of theroom, "what a sensitive conscience your darling little Bessie has! Itseems I vexed her to-night, though I had no thought of doing so. I sawshe was displeased, but the feeling seemed to pass in a moment. NowI find that she is so penitent for indulging in even a wrong feelingthat she cannot rest satisfied without asking pardon, not only of herheavenly Father, but also of me." And he told Mrs. Bradford of all hehad heard the children say, with some amusement, as he repeated theconversation about himself.

  "Yes," said Mrs. Bradford, "my dear little Bessie's quick temper givesher some trouble. I am often touched to see her silent struggles withherself when something tries it, how she forces back each angry wordand look, and faithfully asks for the help which she knows will neverfail her. But with that tender conscience, and her simple trust in Himwho has redeemed her, I believe all the strength she needs will begranted. God only knows how thankful I am that he has thus early led myprecious child to see the sin and evil of a passionate and uncheckedtemper, and so spared her and hers the misery which I have seen itcause to others."

  Uncle Ruthven came in the next morning, and, as usual, "makingintimate," ran up to mamma's room. She was not there; but Maggie andBessie were, busy over "The Complete Family." But Maggie did not lookat all as if she belonged to the Happys just then. She had composed,what she thought, a very interesting chapter about Aunt Patty, andcommenced it in this way: "There came to the Happys a very greataflekshun." But when she had written this last word, she had her doubtsabout the spelling, and carried the book to mamma to see if it wereright. Mamma inquired what the affliction was, and finding, as shesupposed, that it was Aunt Patty, she told Maggie she did not wish herto write about her. Maggie was very much disappointed, and even pouteda little, and she had not quite recovered when her uncle came in. Inhis hand he carried a little basket of flowers, which the childrensupposed was for mamma, and which he stood upon the table. Bessie lovedflowers dearly, and in a moment she was hanging over them, and enjoyingtheir sweetness.

  Uncle Ruthven asked what they were about, and to Bessie's surprise,Maggie took him at once into the secret, telling him all about "TheComplete Family" and her present trouble. Uncle Ruthven quite agreedwith mamma that it was not wisest and best to write anything unkindof Aunt Patty, and told Maggie of some very pleasant things she mightrelate, so that presently she was smiling and good-natured again.

  Then Mr. Stanton took Bessie up in his arms. "Bessie," he said, "did Ivex you a little last night?"

  Bessie colored all over, but looking her uncle steadily in the eyes,answered, "Yes, sir; and I am sorry I felt so naughty."

  "Nay," said Uncle Ruthven, smiling, "if I teased you, although I didnot intend it, I am the one to beg pardon."

  "But I was pretty mad, uncle, and I felt as if I wanted to be naughty.I think I ought to be sorry."

  "As you please then, darling; we will forgive one another. And nowwould you like this little peace-offering from Uncle Ruthven?" and hetook up the basket of flowers.

  "Is that for me?" asked Bessie, her eyes sparkling.

  "Yes. I thought perhaps I had hurt your feelings last night, and so Ibrought it to you that you might see _I_ was sorry."

  "But I could believe you without that."

  Bessie felt reproached that she had told Maggie she had "objections toUncle Ruthven," and now she felt as if they had all flown away.

  "Perhaps you could," said Uncle Ruthven, smiling as he kissed her; "butthe flowers are your own to do with as you please. And now you mustremember that I am not much accustomed to little girls, and do notalways know what they like and what they do not like; so you must takepity on the poor traveller, if he makes a mistake now and then, andbelieve he always wishes to please you and make you love him as far ashe knows how."

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