Bessie at the Sea-Side

by Joanna H. Mathews

  VI.

  _THE POST-OFFICE_

  On Monday Mr. Bradford went up to New York to attend to some business.He was to come back on Wednesday afternoon; and on the morning of thatday, grandmamma sent over to know if Mrs. Bradford would like to haveher carriage, and drive to the railway station to meet him. Mamma saidyes; and told Maggie and Bessie they might go with her. She offeredto take Harry and Fred, too; but they wanted to go clam-fishing withMr. Jones; so she took Franky and baby instead, and carried babyherself, telling nurse and Jane that they might have a holiday for theafternoon. The little girls were delighted at the thought of going tomeet their dear father; for he had been gone three days, and they hadmissed him very much.

  The first part of the ride was through the sand, where the wheels wentin so deep that the horses had hard work to draw the carriage and wentvery slowly, but the children did not mind that at all. They liked tohear the sound of the wheels grating through the sand, and to watch howthey took it up and threw it off again as they moved round and round.At last the carriage turned off to the right, and now the road wasfirmer and harder, and, after a time, ran through the woods. This wasdelightful, it was so cool and shady. Baby seemed to think this was agood place for a nap, for she began to shut her eyes and nod her littlehead about, till mamma laid her down in her lap, where she went fastasleep. James took Franky in front with him and let him hold the endof the reins, and Franky thought he was driving quite as much as thegood-natured coachman, and kept calling out "Get up," and "Whoa," whichthe horses did not care for in the least.

  There was a little stream which ran along by the side of the road,and at last bent itself right across it, so that the carriage had togo over a small bridge. Just beyond the bridge the stream widened intoquite a large pool. James drove his horses into it, and stopped to letthem take a drink.

  It was a lovely, shady spot. The trees grew close around the pool andmet overhead, and there were a number of small purple flowers growingall around. James tried to reach some of them with his whip, butthey were too far away, so the children were disappointed. When thehorses had stopped drinking, there was not a sound to be heard but thetwittering of the birds in the branches, and the little ripple of thewater as it flowed over the stones.

  "Let's stay here a great while, mamma," said Bessie, "it is sopleasant."

  "And what would papa do when he came and found no one waiting for him?"said Mrs. Bradford.

  "Oh, yes! let us make haste then," said Bessie; "we mustn't make himdisappointed for a million waters."

  But mamma said there was time enough; so they staid a few momentslonger, and then drove on. At last they passed from the beautiful greenwood into a space where there was no shade. There were bushes and verysmall trees to be sure, but they were low and scrubby and grew closetogether in a kind of tangled thicket. These reached as far as theycould see on either side, and came so near to the edge of the road,that once, when James had to make way for a heavy hay wagon, and drewin his horses to let it pass, Maggie stretched her hand out of thecarriage and pulled some sprigs from one of the bushes.

  "Mamma, do you know that funny old man?" asked Bessie, as the driver ofthe hay wagon nodded to her mother, and Mrs. Bradford smiled and noddedpleasantly in return.

  "No, dear; but in these lonely country places it is the custom forpeople to nod when they pass each other."

  "Why, we don't do that in New York," said Maggie.

  "No, it would be too troublesome to speak to every one whom we metin the streets of a great city; and people there would think it verystrange and impertinent if you bowed to them when you did not knowthem."

  "Mamma," said Maggie, "I don't like the kind of country there is here,at all. What makes all these bushes grow here?"

  Then mamma told how all this ground was once covered with just suchbeautiful woods as they had passed through, and how they were set onfire by the sparks from a train of cars, how the fire spread for milesand miles, and burned for many days; and the people could do nothing tostop it, until God sent a change of wind and a heavy rain which put itout. She told them how many poor people were burnt out of their houses,and how the little birds and squirrels and other animals were drivenfrom their cosy homes in the woods, and many of them scorched to deathby this terrible fire. Then for a long time the ground where thesewoods had grown was only covered with ashes and charred logs, till atlast these tangled bushes had sprung up. Mamma said she supposed thatby and by the people would cut down the underbrush, and then the youngtrees would have space to grow.

  By the time she had finished her long story they reached the Stationand found that they had a few moments to wait, for it was not yet quitetime for the train.

  There was a locomotive standing on the track, and when the horses sawit they began to prick up their ears and to dance a little; so Jamesturned their heads and drove them up by the side of the depot, wherethey could not see it. On the other side of the road was a small, whitebuilding, and over the door was a sign with large black letters upon it.

  "P-O-S-T, porst," spelled Maggie.

  "Post," said mamma.

  "Post, O double F."

  "O-F, of," said mamma again.

  "O-F, of, F-I-C-E; oh, it's the post-office. I wonder if there is aletter there for us from Grandpapa Duncan."

  "Perhaps there may be," said Mrs. Bradford. "I told Mr. Jones we wouldinquire for the letters. James, will it do for you to leave the horses?"

  "I think not, ma'am," said James. "They are a little onasy yet, and ifshe squales they'll run."

  "And I cannot go because of baby," said mamma; "we must wait till papacomes."

  "I wish we could get our letter if it is there," said Maggie; "we couldread it while we are waiting for papa."

  "There's a nice civil man there, Mrs. Bradford," said James, "and ifyou didn't mind Miss Maggie going over, I could lift her out, and he'llwait on her as if it was yourself."

  "Oh, James," said Maggie; "I couldn't do it, not for anything. Icouldn't indeed, mamma."

  "Well, dear, you need not, if you are afraid."

  "But I would like to have our letter so much, mamma."

  "So would I," said Bessie. "And when dear papa comes we will want totalk to him and not to yead our letter."

  "Maybe it is not there," said Maggie.

  "But we would like to know," said Bessie. "Could I go, mamma?"

  "You are almost too little I think, dear."

  "Well," said Maggie, slowly, "I guess I'll go. Mamma, will you look atme all the time?"

  "Yes, dear, and there is nothing to hurt you. Just walk in at thatdoor, and you will see a man there. Ask him if there are any letters togo to Mr. Jones's house."

  "Yes, mamma, and be very sure you watch all the time."

  James came down from his seat and lifted Maggie from the carriage. Shewalked very slowly across the road, every step or two looking back tosee if her mother was watching her. Mrs. Bradford smiled and nodded toher, and at last Maggie went in at the door. But the moment she wasinside, her mother saw her turn round and fly out of the post-office asif she thought something terrible was after her. She tore back acrossthe road and came up to the carriage looking very much frightened.

  "Why, Maggie, what is it, dear?" asked her mother.

  "Oh, mamma, there is a hole there, and a man put his face in it; pleaseput me in the carriage, James."

  "Oh, foolish little Maggie," said mamma; "that man was the post-master,and he came to the hole as you call it, to see what you wanted. If youhad waited and told him, he would have looked to see if there were anyletters for us."

  "He had such queer spectacles on," said Maggie.

  "I wish I could go," said Bessie; "I wouldn't be afraid of him. I dowant to know if Grandpapa Duncan's letter is there."

  "Then you may try," said her mother; "take her out, James."

  So Bessie was lifted out of the carriage, and went across the roadas Maggie had done. She walked into the post-office and saw the holeMaggie had spoken of, but no one was loo
king out of it. It was a squareopening cut in a wooden partition which divided the post-office. On oneside was the place where Bessie stood, and where people came to ask fortheir letters; on the other was the postmaster's room, where he keptthe letters and papers till they were called for.

  Bessie looked around and saw no one. She always moved very gently, andshe had come in so quietly that the post-master had not heard her.There was a chair standing in front of "the hole." Bessie pushed itcloser, and climbing upon it, put her little face through, and lookedinto the post-master's side of the room. He was sitting there reading.He was an ugly old man, and wore green goggles, which Maggie had called"such queer spectacles." But Bessie was not afraid of him.

  "How do you do, Mr. Post Officer?" she said. "I came for our letter."

  The post-master looked up. "Well, you're a big one to send after aletter," he said. "Who is it for?"

  "For Maggie and me, and it is from Grandpapa Duncan; has it come?"

  "Where are you from?" asked the post-master, laughing.

  "From Mr. Jones's house. Oh, I forgot, mamma said I was to ask if anyletters had come for Mr. Jones's house."

  "Then I suppose you are Mr. Bradford's daughter?"

  "Yes, I am," said Bessie.

  "And are you the little girl who came in here just now, and ran rightout again?"

  "Oh, no, sir; that was Maggie. Poor Maggie is shy, and she said youlooked out of a hole at her."

  "And you looked in a hole at me, but I did not run away. If I was torun away you could not get your letter."

  "Is it here, sir?" asked Bessie.

  "Well, I reckon it may be," said the post-master; "what's your name?"

  "My name is Bessie, and my sister's is Maggie."

  "Here is one apiece then," said the post-master, taking up someletters. "Here is one for Miss Bessie Bradford; that's you, is it? andone for Miss Maggie Bradford, that's your sister, I reckon."

  "What! one for myself, and one for Maggie's self," said Bessie. "Arethey from Grandpapa Duncan?"

  "I don't know," said the post-master. "You will have to open them tofind that out."

  "Oh, how nice; please let me have them, sir; I am very much obliged toyou."

  "Stop, stop," cried the post-master, as Bessie jumped down from thechair, and was running off with her prizes. "Here are some more papersand letters for your folks."

  But Bessie did not hear him; she was already out of the door, runningover to the carriage with flushed cheeks and sparkling eyes, holdingup a letter in each hand. "Oh, Maggie, Maggie," she called, "that nicepost-officer gave me two letters, one for you, and one for me; wasn'the kind?"

  "I think it was a kind Grandpapa Duncan, who took the trouble to writetwo letters," said Mrs. Bradford.

  "So it was," said Maggie. "Mamma, will you read them for us?"

  "In a moment," said Mrs. Bradford; and then she turned to speak to thepost-master, who had followed Bessie to the carriage with the papersand letters which she had been in too great a hurry to wait for. Shethanked him, and he went back and stood at the door watching the eagerlittle girls while their mother read to them. She opened Maggie'sletter first. It said,

  "MY DEAR LITTLE MAGGIE:--

  "I cannot tell you how pleased I was to receive the very nice letter which you and Bessie sent me. I have put it in a safe place in my writing desk, and shall keep it as long as I live. As you wrote it together, perhaps you expected that I would make one answer do for both; but I thought you would be better pleased if I sent a letter for each one.

  "I am glad to hear that you like Quam Beach so much; but you must not let it make you forget dear old Riverside. I am fond of the sea myself, and do not know but I may take a run down to see you some day this summer. Do you think you could give a welcome to the old man? and would Mrs. Jones make him such a famous turnover as she made for you?

  "I went this morning to see your friend Jemmy, for I thought you would like to hear something about him. He was out in the little garden, on the shady side of the house, sitting in his chair with his books beside him, and a happier or more contented boy I never saw. He was alone, except for his dog and rabbits, for his mother was washing, and Mary was out. Mrs. Bent brought me a chair, and I sat and talked to Jemmy for some time. I asked him which of all his books he liked best. 'Oh, my Bible, sir,' he said. 'I think it is with the Bible and other books, just like it is with people, Mr. Duncan.' 'How so?' I asked. 'Why, sir,' he answered, 'when Mary and mother are away, the neighbors often come in to sit with me and talk a bit. They are very kind, and I like to have them tell me about things; but no matter how much they make me laugh or amuse me, 'tain't like mother's voice; and if I am sick, or tired, or uncomfortable, or even glad, there ain't nobody that seems to have just the right thing to say, so well as her. And it's just so with the Bible, I think; it always has just the very thing I want: whether it's comfort and help, or words to say how happy and thankful I feel. The other books I like just as I do the neighbors; but the Bible I love just as I do mother. I suppose the reason is that the Bible is God's own words, and he loved and pitied us so that he knew what we would want him to say, just as mother loves and pities me, and so knows what I like her to say.' Happy Jemmy! he knows how to love and value God's holy book, that most precious gift, in which all may find what their souls need. May my little Maggie learn its worth as the poor lame boy has done.

  "I really think your chair has done Jemmy good. He looks brighter, and has a better color and appetite since he has been able to be out of doors so much. I do not suppose he will ever be able to walk again, but he does not fret about that, and is thankful for the blessings that are left to him. If you and Bessie could see how much he enjoys the chair, you would feel quite repaid for any pains you took to earn it for him. And now, my darling, I think I must put the rest of what I have to say, in your little sister's letter. Write to me soon again, and believe me

  "Your loving grandpapa,

  "CHARLES DUNCAN."

  Just as mama was finishing this letter, the train came in sight, andshe said she must leave Bessie's letter till they were at home. Ina few minutes they saw their dear father coming towards them, and aman following with his bag and a great basket. Then papa was in thecarriage, and such a hugging and kissing as he took and gave. Frankycame inside that he might have his share, too; and baby woke up,good-natured as she always was, and smiled and crowed at her fathertill he said he really thought she knew him, and was glad to see him.Mamma was quite sure she did.

  When they had all settled down once more, and papa had asked andanswered a good many questions, he said, "Maggie and Bessie, I met avery curious old gentleman to-day; what strange question do you thinkhe asked me?"

  The children were sure they did not know.

  "He asked me if there were any little girls down this way who wroteletters to old gentleman?"

  Maggie and Bessie looked at each other, and Maggie shook her head veryknowingly; but they waited to hear what papa would say next.

  "I told him I thought I knew of two such young damsels, and what do youthink he did then?"

  "What?" asked both the little girls at once.

  "He handed me these two parcels and told me if I could find any suchlittle letter-writers, to ask them if they would prove useful."

  As Mr. Bradford spoke, he produced two parcels. Like the letters, theywere directed one to Miss Maggie Bradford, and the other to Miss BessieBradford. They were quickly opened, and inside were two purple leatherwriting cases, very small, but as Bessie said, "perfaly pretty." Theyhad steel corners and locks, and a plate with each little girl's nameengraved upon her own. In each were found a small inkstand, a pen, andtwo pencils, two sticks of sealing wax, and best of all, tiny notepaper and envelopes stamped M. S. B., and B. R. B.

  It woul
d have done Grandpapa Duncan good to have seen his pets'pleasure. Maggie fairly screamed with delight. "Oh, such paper, suchlovely stamped paper."

  "And such _embelopes_," said Bessie, "with our own name letters onthem."

  "I am going to write to every one I know in the world," cried Maggie.

  "Mamma," said Bessie, when they had looked again and again at theirbeautiful presents, "I do think God has made all my people the verybest people that ever lived. I don't think any little girls have suchpeople as mine."

  "I suppose every other little girl thinks the same thing, Bessie."

  "Mamma, how can they? they don't have you, nor papa, nor Maggie, norGrandpapa Duncan, nor grandmamma;" and Bessie went on naming all thepeople whom she loved, and who loved her.

  Papa asked if they had not each had a letter from Grandpapa Duncan. Thewriting cases had almost made them forget the letters; but now theyshowed them to papa, and he told Bessie he would read hers. He let heropen it herself, and taking her on his knee, read:

  "MY DEAR LITTLE BESSIE,--

  "Maggie will tell you how much I was pleased with the letter you both sent me, but I must thank you for your share in it. Your old grandpapa is very happy to know that his little pets think about him, and care for him when they are away. I am glad to hear that you are better, and hope you will come home with cheeks as red as Maggie's.

  "We are all well here except poor little Nellie, who is cutting some teeth which hurt her very much, and make her rather fretful. She has learned to say two or three words, and among them she makes a curious sound which her mamma declares to be a very plain grandpapa; as she looks at me every time she says it, I suppose I must believe it is so; but I must say it does not sound much like it to my ears. However, she loves her old grandpapa dearly, which is a great pleasure to me.

  "Your little dog Flossy is growing finely. He is very pretty and lively, and will make a fine playmate for you and Maggie when you come home. I went down to Donald's cottage the other day and found all four of the puppies playing before the door while Alice sat on the steps watching them. She says they are growing very mischievous and have already broken two or three of Donald's fine plants, so that when she lets them out for a play, she has to keep her eye on them all the time. Alice asked about you and Maggie, and I could not help wishing with her that you were there to see your little doggie. It will be pleasant to have you at Riverside again in the autumn. Send me another letter, if you wish to please

  "Your loving grandpapa,

  "CHARLES DUNCAN."