Bessie at the Sea-Side

by Joanna H. Mathews

  XV.

  _UNCLE JOHN._

  "A letter from Uncle John!" said mamma, at the breakfast-table. "I hopeNellie is no worse. No, she is better; but the doctor has ordered seaair for her, and they all want to come here, if we can find room forthem, either in this house or in the hotel."

  "The hotel is full, I know," said Mr. Bradford; "I do not think thereis a room to be had. I wonder if Mrs. Jones can do anything for us."

  "I think not," said Mrs. Bradford. "Old Mr. Duncan must be with themwherever they go, for John is not willing to leave his father alone."

  "We can ask her, at least," said Mr. Bradford.

  So the next time Mrs. Jones came in with a plate full of hot cakes,she was asked if she could possibly take in Mr. Duncan's family.

  "Couldn't do it," she said. "If you didn't mind scroudging, I couldgive 'em one room; but two, I can't do it. I've plenty of beds, but nomore rooms."

  Maggie and Bessie looked very much disappointed. It would be such apleasure to have Grandpapa Duncan, and all the rest.

  "Suppose we gave up this little dining-room, and took our meals in thesitting-room," said Mr. Bradford; "could you put old Mr. Duncan inhere?"

  "Oh, yes, well enough," said Mrs. Jones. "Didn't suppose you'd bewilling to do that, York folks is so partickler."

  "We would be willing to do far more than that to accommodate ourfriends," said Mrs. Bradford, smiling.

  After a little more talk with Mrs. Jones, it was all settled; so mammasat down to write to Uncle John, telling him they might come as soon asthey chose.

  "Mamma," said Maggie, "what did Mrs. Jones mean by 'scroudging'?"

  "She meant to crowd."

  "I sha'n't take it for one of my words," said Maggie; "I don't think itsounds nice."

  "No," said mamma, laughing, "I do not think it is a very pretty word;crowd is much better."

  The children went out in the front porch, greatly pleased with theidea of having their Riverside friends with them. Dear GrandpapaDuncan and Aunt Helen, merry Uncle John and little Nellie! Maggie wenthopping about the path, while Bessie sat down on the steps with a verycontented smile. Presently she said,--

  "Maggie, if you was on the grass, what would you be?"

  "I don't know," said Maggie; "just Maggie Stanton Bradford, I suppose."

  "You'd be a grasshopper," said Bessie.

  Maggie stopped hopping to laugh. She thought this a very fine joke; andwhen, a moment after, her brothers came up to the house, she told themof Bessie's "conundrum." They laughed, too, and then ran off to thebarn.

  Maggie sat down on the step by her sister. "Bessie," she said,"don't you think Mrs. Jones is very horrid, even if she does make usgingerbread men?"

  "Not very; I think she is a little horrid."

  "I do," said Maggie; "she talks so; she called papa and mamma 'Yorkfolks.'"

  "What does that mean?" asked Bessie.

  "I don't know; something not nice, I'm sure."

  "Here comes papa," said Bessie; "we'll ask him. Papa, what did Mrs.Jones mean by York folks?"

  "She meant people from New York," said Mr. Bradford.

  "Then why don't she say that?" said Maggie; "it sounds better."

  "Well, that is her way of talking," answered Mr. Bradford.

  "Do you think it a nice way, papa?"

  "Not very. I should be sorry to have you speak as she does; but youmust remember that the people with whom she has lived are accustomed totalk in that way, and she does not know any better."

  "Then we'll teach her," said Maggie. "I'll tell her she doesn't talkproperly, and that we're going to teach her."

  "Indeed, you must do nothing of the kind," said Mr. Bradford, smilingat the idea of his shy Maggie teaching Mrs. Jones; "she would be verymuch offended."

  "Why, papa," said Bessie, "don't she like to do what is yight?"

  "Yes, so far as I can tell, she wishes to do right; but probably shethinks she speaks very well, and she would think it impertinent if twosuch little girls were to try to teach her. It is not really wrong fora person to talk in the way she does, if they know no better. It wouldbe wrong and vulgar for you to do so, because you have been taught tospeak correctly."

  "And do we do it?" said Bessie. "Do we speak coryectly?"

  "Pretty well for such little girls," said papa.

  "Mrs. Jones laughs at us because she says we use such big words," saidMaggie; "and Mr. Jones does too. They ought not to do it, when theydon't know how to talk themselves. I like grown-up words, and I amgoing to say them, if they do laugh."

  "Well, there is no harm in that, if you understand their meaning," saidpapa; "but I would not feel unkindly towards Mrs. Jones; she means tobe good and kind to you, and I think she is so; and you must not mindif her manner is not always very pleasant."

  "But she called you and mamma particular," said Maggie, who wasdetermined not to be pleased with Mrs. Jones.

  "Well, if Mrs. Jones thinks we are too particular about some things,we think she is not particular enough; so neither one thinks the otherquite perfect."

  Maggie did not think this mended the matter at all. But just thenthe nurses came with the younger children, and after their father hadplayed with them for a while, they all went for their morning walk onthe beach.

  Two days after, the party came from Riverside, and, with some crowding,were all made comfortable. They almost lived out of doors in thisbeautiful weather, and so did not mind some little inconveniences inthe house.

  Uncle John was always ready for a frolic. Now he would hire Mr. Jones'large farm wagon and two horses, cover the bottom of the wagon withstraw, pack in Aunt Annie and the little Bradfords, and as many otherboys and girls as it would hold, and start off for a long drive. Thenhe said they must have a clam-bake, and a clam-bake they had; not onlyone, but several. Sometimes Uncle John would invite their friends fromthe hotel, and they would have quite a grand affair; but, generally,they had only their own family, with Mrs. Rush, and the colonel when hewas well enough to come; and the children enjoyed the smaller partiesmuch more than they did the larger ones. First, a large, shallow holewas made in the sand, in which the clams were placed, standing on end;a fire was built on top of them, and they were left until they werewell roasted, when they were pulled out and eaten with bread and butter.

  When Mrs. Jones found how fond the children were of roast clams, sheoften had them for their breakfast or supper; but they never tasted sogood as they did when they were cooked in the sand and eaten on theshore.

  One cool, bright afternoon, Mr. Bradford and Mr. Duncan went down tothe beach for a walk. The children had been out for some time: Maggiewas racing about with the boys; Bessie, sitting on the sand beside apool of salt water, looking into it so earnestly that she did not seeher father and uncle till they were quite close to her.

  "What is my little girl looking at?" said her father, sitting down on agreat stone which was near.

  "Such an ugly thing!" said Bessie.

  Papa leaned forward and looked into the pool, and there he saw thething Bessie thought so ugly. It was a small salt-water crab which hadbeen left there by the tide. He was very black and had long, sprawlinglegs, spreading out in every direction. He lay quite still in thebottom of the pool, with his great eyes staring straight forward,and did not seem to be in the least disturbed by the presence of hisvisitors.

  "What do you suppose he is thinking about, Bessie?" said Uncle John.

  "I guess he thinks he looks pretty nasty," said Bessie; "I do."

  "Bessie," said her father, "it seems to me that you and Maggie say'nasty' very often. I do not think it is at all a pretty word forlittle girls to use."

  "Then I wont say it," said Bessie; "but when a thing looks--looks_that_ way, what shall I say?"

  "You might say ugly," said Mr. Bradford.

  "But, papa, sometimes a thing looks ugly, and not nasty. I think thatanimal looks ugly and nasty too."

  "Tell us of something that is ugly, but not nasty," said Uncle John.


  Bessie looked very hard at her uncle. Now Mr. Duncan was not at all ahandsome man. He had a pleasant, merry, good-natured face, but he wascertainly no beauty. Bessie looked at him, and he looked back at her,with his eyes twinkling, and the corners of his mouth twitching with asmile, for he thought he knew what was coming.

  "Well?" he said, when Bessie did not speak for a moment.

  "Uncle John," said she, very gravely, "I think you are ugly, but I donot think you are nasty, a bit."

  Uncle John laughed as if he thought this a capital joke; and Mr.Bradford smiled as he said, "It don't do to ask Bessie questions towhich you do not want a straightforward answer."

  "But I want to know about 'nasty,'" said Bessie. "Is it saying badgrammar, like Mrs. Jones, to say it?"

  "Not exactly," said Mr. Bradford, "and you may say it when a thingis really nasty; but I think you often use it when there is no need.Perhaps this little fellow does look nasty as well as ugly; but theother day I heard Maggie say that Mamie Stone was a nasty, cross child.Now, Mamie may be cross,--I dare say she often is,--but she certainlyis not nasty, for she is always neat and clean. And this morning Iheard you say that you did not want 'that nasty bread and milk.' Thebread and milk was quite good and sweet, and not at all nasty; but youcalled it so because you did not fancy it."

  "Then did I tell a wicked story?" asked Bessie, looking sober at thethought of having said what was not true.

  "No," said papa, "you did not tell a wicked story, for you did not meanto say that which was not so. But it is wrong to fall into the habitof using words which seem to say so much more than we mean. But do notlook so grave about it, my darling; you did not intend to do anythingthat was not right, I am sure."--

  "But, papa," said Bessie, "why did God make ugly things?"

  "Because he thought it best, Bessie. He made everything in the waywhich best fitted it for the purpose for which he intended it. Thislittle crab lives under the sea, where he has a great many enemies, andwhere he has to find his food. With these round, staring eyes whichstand out so far from his head, he can look in every direction and seeif any danger is near, or if there is anything which may do for himto eat. With these long, awkward legs, he can scamper out of the way,and with those sharp claws, he fights, for he is a quarrelsome littlefellow. He can give a good pinch with them, and you had better not putyour fingers too near them. Under that hard, black shell, he has atender body, which would be hurt by the rocks and stones among whichhe lives, if he had not something to protect it."

  Uncle John took up a stick. "Here, Johnny Crab," he said, "let us seehow you can fight;" and he put the stick in the water and stirred upthe crab. The moment he was touched, the crab began to move all hislegs, and to scuttle round the pool as if he wanted to get out. ButUncle John did not mean to let him come out until he had shown Bessiewhat a nip he could give with those pincers of his. He pushed him back,and put the stick close to one of his larger claws. The crab took holdof it, as if he were very angry, and such a pinch as he gave it!

  "See there, Bessie," said Uncle John, "are you not glad it is not oneof your little fingers he has hold of?"

  "Yes," said Bessie, climbing on her father's knee as the crab tried toget out. "I didn't know he could pinch like that."

  "Or you would not have sat so quietly watching him, eh, Bessie?" saidUncle John. "Well, romp,"--to Maggie, as she rushed up to them, rosyand out of breath, and jumping upon the rock behind him, threw botharms around his neck,--"well, romp, here is a gentleman who wishes tomake your acquaintance."

  "Why, Uncle John, what a horrid, nasty thing! What is it?" said Maggie,as her uncle pushed back the crab, which was still trying to get out ofthe pool.

  "There it goes again," said Uncle John,--"horrid, nasty thing! Poorlittle crab!"

  "Maggie," said Bessie, "we must not say 'nasty.' Papa says it meanswhat we do not mean, and it's unproper. Tell her about it, papa."

  "No," said papa, "we will not have another lecture now. By and by youmay tell her. I think you can remember all I have said."

  "Now see, Maggie," said Uncle John, "you have hurt the crab's feelingsso that he is in a great hurry to run off home. I am sure his motherthinks him a very handsome fellow, and he wants to go and tell her howhe went on his travels and met a monster who had the bad taste to callhim 'a horrid, nasty thing.'"

  "Oh," said Bessie, laughing, "what a funny Uncle John you are! But Ishould think it would hurt the crab's feelings a great deal more to bepoked with a stick, and not to be let to go home when he wants to. Idon't believe he knows what Maggie says."

  "I think you are about right, Bessie; I guess we must let him go."

  So the next time the crab tried to come out of the pool, Uncle John putthe stick by his claw, and when he took hold of it, lifted him out ofthe water and laid him on the sand. Away the crab scampered as fast ashis long legs could carry him, moving in a curious side-long fashion,which amused the children very much. They followed him as near to thewater's edge as they were allowed to go, and then ran back to theirfather.