by Oliver Optic
Produced by Ted Garvin, Erik Bent, Charles Franks and theOnline Distributed Proofreading Team.
THE ALLIS FAMILY;
OR,
SCENES OF WESTERN LIFE
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_Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1858 by theAMERICAN SUNDAY-SCHOOL UNION, in the Clerk's Office of the DistrictCourt of the Eastern District of Pennsylvania._
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_No books are published by the_ AMERICAN SUNDAY-SCHOOL UNION _without thesanction of the Committee of Publication, consisting of fourteen members,from the following denominations of Christians, viz.: Baptist, Methodist,Congregational, Episcopal, Presbyterian, Lutheran, and, Reformed Dutch.Not more than three of the members can be of the same denomination, and nobook can be published to which any member of the Committee shall object._
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THE ALLIS FAMILY.
Mr. and Mrs. Allis lived away out West, on a broad prairie, where Mr. Alliswas busily engaged in "making a farm." Perhaps some of my young readers,who have always been accustomed to see farms already "made," will notunderstand what I mean by "_making_ a farm;" and I will try to tell them.
First of all, let them try to fancy a large meadow, either perfectly flator a little uneven, as large, perhaps, as can be measured with the eye, andsometimes without a single tree, or scarcely a clump of bushes. There willbe no fences in sight, and sometimes no streams of water, but the surfaceof the ground is covered with high, coarse grass. This is what Westernpeople call a "prairie."
In order to "make a farm," this ground must be ploughed, or, as Westernpeople say, "broken up." Some of the children would smile, I think, if theywere to see a regular "breaking team" before a "breaking plough." Thisplough is quite unlike that which is used in the older States, and it takesfive, six, and sometimes as many as eight yoke of oxen to draw it. Thisploughing is usually done in June. After ploughing, the ground must beenclosed, and then it is ready for the seed.
Some people make curious mistakes when they undertake to make a new farm.Mr. Allis was one of these persons. He arrived at the little town of B----,with his family, late in the fall, and immediately set about looking for alocation. Several miles from B---- he found a place that seemed to suithim. The soil was rich, and apparently inexhaustible; but it was poorlywatered, and destitute of any timber suitable for building or fencing, andthere was very little which was fit for fuel. The great thing he thought ofwas a large farm.
After a while he found out his mistake, but it was too late for him to helpit, for his money was nearly all expended for land. But Mr. Allis was aresolute man, and he immediately set himself to work to do the best hecould. It was a long walk to the grove where he went every day to cut downtrees for his cabin, and to split rails for his fence, and a whole day'swork to go twice with his oxen to draw the logs and rails to his farm. Buthe rose early, and was ready to begin his work with the dawn. On rainy andstormy days, when he could not be out, he was at work in a shop near hishouse, making doors and window-frames, and cupboards, and other things forhis new house.
Early in the spring the cabin was reared, and soon all was in readiness forthe removal of the family, which consisted of Mrs. Allis, Mary, a distantrelative whose home was with her, and two little twin-daughters, Annie andSusie, who were about five years old at this time. These little girls lovedeach other very much, and usually played very pleasantly together. But itwas sometimes the case that, like other children, they had their littletroubles, and were selfish, and of course unhappy.
One day Mrs. Allis was very sick, and she called the little girls to her,and told them they might go up-stairs and play, but they must try to bevery good girls, and very quiet, for she could not bear the noise of theirvoices. The little girls loved their mother very dearly, and were verysorry that she was so sick. So they promised to be good children, and thenaway they skipped up-stairs on tip-toe, that they might not disturb theirmother.
At first there was the patter of light feet and a subdued murmur of voices,but after a while scarcely a sound could be heard. Thus passed two hours,or more, and at last Mrs. Allis sent Mary to see what they were about. Maryreported that they were playing very pleasantly together, and seemed veryhappy.
"But what can they be doing, Mary?"
"Oh, they have a whole regiment of ragbabies, besides the kittens, forscholars. Susie says they are playing school."
At last it was tea-time, and, when the girls had eaten their supper, theirmother called them to her.
"Oh, mother! mother! we have had such a nice time."
"Softly, softly, children," said Mr. Allis; "be careful, or you will makeyour mother sick again."
"Are you better now, mother?" said little Susie, going softly towards herbed.
"Yes, my dear child, I am much better, and you two little girls have helpedto make me so."
"We, mother?" said Susie, while her black eyes sparkled at the thought. "Iwonder how _we_ could make you better, when we have been all the while atplay up-stairs."
"I can guess how," said Annie. "Mother means we didn't make any noise:don't you, mother?"
"Not just that, or rather a good deal more than that; but first tell me_what_ you played up-stairs."
"Oh, it was so pleasant: wasn't it? Why, mother, don't you think, we playedschool; and first I let Susie be teacher, and then she let me; and weplayed I was a little girl come to school, and by-and-by, when we got tiredof that, we got out the dolls, Bessie and Jessie, and the pussy, and thenwe made three more little girls out of our sun-bonnets and Susie's pinkapron, and then we both played teacher, like Miss Jackson and Miss Williamsin the academy where we used to live, you know."
"Oh, yes, mother," interrupted Susie; "and, don't you think, sometimesAnnie would pull pussy's tail and make her say 'Mew,' and we made believethat one of the little girls cried to go to her mother."
"Yes," said Annie, "and after a while we made believe she was naughty, andsent her home."
"Very well, my dear; I see you have had a very pleasant time,--much morepleasant than if you had been cross and unkind to each other, or had made anoise to disturb me. I see you have loved one another, and this is what hasmade you so happy this afternoon. Tell me, now, which you had rather be,teacher or scholar, when you play school."
"Oh! a teacher, a great deal, mother," said Annie.
"Then why did you not be teacher all the time, and let Susie be thescholar?"
"That wouldn't be right. Susie likes to be teacher as well as I," repliedAnnie, timidly.
"But don't you think you would have been happier to have been teacher allthe time, Annie?"
"I did want to be at first, but then I thought Susie would like it too;and, after all, it was just as pleasant."
"I presume it was, my dear, and much more pleasant; no person can be happywho is selfish. Do you know what it is to be selfish, my little Susie?"
"Yes, mother; you told Annie and I one day that it was selfish to wantevery thing just to please ourselves."
"Do you love to run about the room, and laugh and play?"
"Oh, yes; you know we do, mother."
"Would you not rather have stayed down-stairs to play to-day?"
"Oh, yes," said Annie; "only----"
"Only what, my dear?"
"Annie means that you were sick, and didn't want us to make a noise; and,really, we did try to play just as still as we possibly could."
"Why did you take so much pains to be quiet?"
"You told us to be still, didn't you, mother?"
"I did; but were you a
fraid I would punish you if you made a noise, Susie?"
"Oh, no, indeed; but we did not want to make you sick," said Susie,clinging to her mother, and looking into her face with her loving eyes.
"Then you love your mother, do you, girls?"
"Indeed we do," said the children, in one breath.
"Well, supposing your mother had been well, and some poor sick woman, whomyou had never seen before, lay here sick in my bed: would it have been morepleasant _then_ for you to be very still, so as not to disturb her?"
The girls hesitated a moment, and then Annie said,--
"I think it would, mother; for it would be very cruel to make anybodysuffer, I have heard you say."
"Then you could love a poor stranger enough to deny yourself some of yourown pleasures for her sake; and you think it would make you happier to doso, do you?"
"Oh, yes, I am sure we should be happier," said little Susie.
"Well, my dear children, I cannot talk any longer now, but I want you torepeat this little verse after me until you can remember it:--
"Love is the golden chain that binds The happy souls above; And he's an heir of heaven that finds His bosom glow with _love_."
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