III.
_THE LETTER._
You are not going to hear all that Maggie and Bessie did every day atthe sea-shore, but only a few of the things that happened to them.
They liked Quam Beach more and more. Maggie did not mind thetrundle-bed so very much after a night or two, though she never seemedto grow quite used to it; and Bessie, who had been weak and sick whenthey left home, became stronger, and was soon able to run about morewith the other children.
After a few days they began to bathe in the sea. Maggie was afraid atfirst, and cried when she was carried into the water; but the secondtime she was braver, and she soon came to like it almost as well asBessie, who never was ready to come out when it was thought she hadbeen in long enough. She would beg her father or the bathing-woman tolet her stay just one minute more; and she would laugh when the wavescame dashing over her, so that sometimes the salt water would get intoher little mouth. But she did not mind it, and begged for another andanother wave, until papa would say that it was high time for her tocome out. Mamma said she had never seen Bessie enjoy anything so much,and it made her feel very happy to see her little girl growing well andstrong again.
Bessie loved the sea very much, and often when her sister and littlecompanions were playing, she would sit quietly on some rock, lookingaway out over the wide, beautiful waters, or watching and listening tothe waves as they came rolling up on the beach. People who were passingused to turn and look at her, and smile when they saw the sweet littleface, which looked so grave and wise. But if any stranger asked herwhat she was thinking about, she would only say, "Thoughts, ma'am."
Maggie did not like to sit still as Bessie did. She was well and fatand rosy, and full of fun when she was with people she knew; and sheliked to play better than to sit on the rocks and watch the water, butshe seldom went far away from Bessie, and was always running to herwith some pretty shell or sea-weed she had found. She and Bessie andLily Norris would play in the sand and make little ponds or wells, andsand pies, or pop the air bags in the sea-weed; or have some otherquiet play which did not tire Bessie. Very often Walter Stone and TomNorris gave them a ride in the wagon; or Tom told them nice stories;and sometimes they all went out on the water in Mr. Jones's boat, ortook a drive with papa and mamma. Before they had been at Quam Beachmany days, they knew quite a number of the children who were stayingthere; and they liked almost all of them, except fretful Mamie Stone,who made herself so disagreeable that no one cared to play with her. Inshort, there were so many things to do, and so much to see, that theday was never long enough for them.
Then they made friends with Toby, Mr. Jones' great white dog. He wasan ugly old fellow, and rather gruff and unsociable; but, like somepeople, he was in reality better than he appeared. He would never allowany grown person but his master to pet him; and if any one tried topat him or make him play, he would walk away and seat himself at adistance, with an offended air which seemed to say, "What a very sillyperson you are; do you not know that I am too grave and wise a dog tobe pleased with such nonsense!"
But he was not so with little children. Though he would not play, helet Susie and Franky pull his ears and tail, and roll and tumble overhim as much as they liked without giving them one growl. Maggie andBessie were rather afraid of him at first, but they soon found he wasnot as fierce as he looked, and after Mr. Jones had told them howhe saved a little boy from drowning the last summer, they liked himbetter, and soon came to have no fear of him.
This boy had been one of those who were boarding in the house lastyear, and was a disobedient, mischievous child. One day he wanted togo down on the beach, but it was not convenient for any one to go withhim, and his mother told him he must wait. He watched till no one sawhim, and then ran off followed by Toby, who seemed to know that he wasin mischief.
When the child reached the beach, he pulled off his shoes and stockingsand went to the water's edge where the waves could dash over his feet.He went a little farther and a little farther, till at last a wave camewhich was too strong for him. It threw him down and carried him outinto deeper water, and in another minute he would have been beyond helphad not Toby dashed in and seized hold of him. It was hard work forToby, for he was not a water-dog; but he held the boy till a man, whohad seen it all, came running to his help and pulled the boy out.
After this, Toby would never let the child go near the water all thetime he staid at Quam Beach. If he tried to go, Toby would take holdof his clothes with his teeth, and no coaxings or scoldings would makehim let go till the boy's face was turned the other way.
Toby was of great use to Mrs. Jones; she said that he was as good as anurse. Every day she used to put Susie to sleep in a room at the headof the garret stairs. Then she would call the dog, and leave him totake care of the baby while she went about her work; and it seemed asif Toby knew the right hour for Susie's nap, for he was never out ofthe way at that time. He would lie and watch her till she woke up, andthen go to the head of the stairs and bark till Mrs. Jones came. Thenhe knew that his duty was done, and he would walk gravely down stairs.Sometimes Mrs. Jones put Susie on the kitchen floor, and left Toby tolook after her. He would let her crawl all round unless she went nearthe fire, or the open door or kitchen stairs, when he would take her bythe waist and lift her back to the place where her mother had left her.Susie would scold him as well as she knew how, and pound him with herlittle fist; but he did not care one bit for that.
After a time Bessie grew quite fond of Toby. Maggie did not like himso much. She liked a dog who would romp and play with her, which Tobywould never do. If his master or mistress did not want him, Toby wasgenerally to be found lying on the porch or sitting on the edge of thebank above the beach, looking down on the people who were walking ordriving there. Bessie would sit down beside him and pat his rough head,and talk to him in a sweet, coaxing voice, and he would blink his eyesat her and flap his heavy tail upon the ground in a way that he woulddo for no one else.
"Bessie," said Maggie, one day, as her sister sat patting the greatdog, "what makes you like Toby so much; do you think he is pretty?"
"No," answered Bessie, "I don't think he is pretty, but I think he isvery good and wise."
"But he is not so wise as Jemmy Bent's Shock," said Maggie; "he doesnot know any funny tricks."
Jemmy Bent was a poor lame boy, and Shock was his dog,--a littleScotch terrier with a black shaggy coat, and a pair of sharp, brighteyes peeping out from the long, wiry hair which hung about his face.He had been taught a great many tricks, and Maggie thought him a verywonderful dog, but Bessie had never seemed to take much of a fancy tohim.
"But he is very useful," said Bessie, "and I don't think Shock ispretty either; I think he is very ugly, Maggie."
"So do I," said Maggie; "but then he looks so funny and smart: I thinkhe looks a great deal nicer than Toby."
"I don't," said Bessie, "I don't like the look of Shock; the first timeI saw him I didn't think he was a dog."
"What did you think he was?"
"I thought he was _a animal_," said Bessie, "and I was afraid of him."
"And are you afraid of him now?"
"No, not much; but I had rather he'd stay under the bed when I go tosee Jemmy."
"I wouldn't," said Maggie, "and I can't like Toby so much as Shock. No,I can't, Toby, and you need not look at me so about it."
Maggie's opinion did not seem to make the least difference to Toby; heonly yawned and blinked his eyes at her.
When Maggie and Bessie had been at Quam Beach about a week, they wokeone morning to find it was raining hard, and Mr. Jones said he hoped itwould keep on, for the rain was much needed. The little girls hoped itwould not, for they did not like to stay in the house all day. Abouteleven o'clock they went to their mother and told her they had promisedto write a letter to Grandpapa Duncan, and asked if they might do itnow. Mamma was busy, and told them that she could not write it for themat that time.
"But, mamma," said Maggie, "we don't want you to write it for us;grandpapa wi
ll like it better if we do it all ourselves. I can printit, and Bessie will help me make it up."
So mamma gave them a sheet of paper and a pencil, and they went off ina corner to write their letter. They were very busy over it for a longwhile. When it was done they brought it to their mother to see if itwas all right. There were a few mistakes in the spelling which Mrs.Bradford corrected; but it was very nicely printed for such a littlegirl as Maggie. This was the letter:--
"DEAR GRANDPAPA DUNCAN,--
"Maggie and Bessie are making up this letter, but I am printing, because Bessie is too little. We hope you are well, and Bessie is better and I am very well, thank you, and every body. It rains, and we have nothing to do, and so we are writing you a letter. We like this place; it is nice. There is a great deal of sea here. There are two kittens here. Mrs. Jones made us a turnover. The old cat is very cross. Mrs. Jones put currants in it, and she put it in the oven and the juice boiled out and made it sticky, and it was good and we eat it all up. Dear grandpa, we hope you are well. This is from us, Maggie and Bessie. Good-by, dear grandpa. P. S.--We can't think of anything else to say. My hand is tired, too.
"Your beloved
"MAGGIE AND BESSIE.
"Another P. S.--God bless you."
Mamma said it was a very nice letter, and she folded it and put it inan envelope. Then she directed it to Mr. Duncan, and put a postagestamp on it, so that it was all ready to go with the rest of theletters when Mr. Jones went to the post-office in the evening.
But you must learn a little about the dear old gentleman to whom thechildren had been writing. His name was Duncan, and he lived at abeautiful place called Riverside, a short distance from New York.He was not really the children's grandfather, but his son, Mr. JohnDuncan, had married their Aunt Helen; and as they were as fond of himas he was of them, he had taught them to call him Grandpapa Duncan.
A little way from Riverside lived a poor widow named Bent. She had ason, who a year or two since had fallen from a wall and hurt his back,so that the doctor said he would never walk or stand again. Day afterday he lay upon his bed, sometimes suffering very much, but alwaysgentle, patient, and uncomplaining.
Jemmy was often alone, for hours at a time; for his mother had to workhard to get food and medicine for her sick boy; and his sister, Mary,carried radishes and cresses, and other green things to sell in thestreets of the city. But Jemmy's Bible and Prayer-book were always athis side, and in these the poor helpless boy found comfort when he wastired and lonely.
To buy a wheel chair, in which Jemmy might be out of doors, and berolled from place to place without trouble or pain to himself, was theone great wish of Mrs. Bent and Mary; and they were trying to put bymoney enough for this. But such a chair cost a great deal; and thoughthey saved every penny they could, the money came very slowly, and itseemed as if it would be a long while before Jemmy had his chair.
Now Mrs. Bradford was one of Mary's customers; so it happened that thechildren had often seen her when she came with her basket of radishes.Bessie used to call her "yadishes," for she could not pronounce _r_:but neither she nor Maggie had ever heard of the poor lame boy, tillone day when they were at Riverside. Playing in the garden, they sawMary sitting outside the gate, counting over the money she had madeby the sale of her radishes: and as they were talking to her, it cameabout that she told them of the sick brother lying on his bed, neverable to go out and breathe the fresh air, or see the beautiful blue skyand green trees, in this lovely Summer weather; and how she and hermother were working and saving, that they might have enough to buy theeasy chair.
Our little girls were very much interested, and went back to the housevery eager and anxious to help buy the chair for Jemmy; and findingGrandpapa Duncan on the piazza, they told him the whole story. Now ourMaggie and Bessie had each a very troublesome fault. Bessie had a quicktemper, and was apt to fly into a passion; while Maggie was exceedinglycareless and forgetful, sometimes disobeying her parents from sheerheedlessness, and a moment's want of thought. When Mr. Duncan heardabout Jemmy Bent, he proposed a little plan to the children, thatpleased them very much.
This was about a month before they were to leave the city for thesea-shore. Grandpapa Duncan promised that for each day, during the nextthree weeks, in which Bessie did not lose her temper and give way toone of her fits of passion, or in which Maggie did not fall into anygreat carelessness or disobedience, he would give twenty cents to eachlittle girl. At the end of three weeks this would make eight dollarsand forty cents. When they had earned this much he would add the restof the money that was needed to buy the wheel chair, and they shouldhave the pleasure of giving it to Jemmy themselves.
The children were delighted, and promised to try hard, and theydid do their best. But it was hard work, for they were but littlegirls,--Bessie only five, Maggie not quite seven. Bessie had some hardbattles with her temper. Maggie had to watch carefully that she was nottempted into forgetfulness and disobedience. And one day Maggie failedmiserably, for she had trusted to her own strength, and not looked forhelp from above. But Grandpapa Duncan gave her another trial; and, aseven such young children may do much toward conquering their faults ifthey try with all their hearts, the money was all earned, the chairbought, and Maggie and Bessie carried it to lame Jemmy. Then it wouldhave been hard to tell who were the most pleased, the givers or thereceivers.
Nor did Maggie and Bessie cease after this to struggle with theirfaults, for from this time there was a great improvement to be seen inboth.
Bessie at the Sea-Side Page 4