Arthur Brown, The Young Captain

by Elijah Kellogg

  CHAPTER V.

  “WE WERE PUT INTO THIS WORLD TO HELP ONE ANOTHER.”

  IT was about eight o’clock Saturday night. Captain Rhines had sailedthat morning for Boston.

  Mrs. Brown had finished her household business for the day, and wasseated before a bright fire in a cosy little sitting-room, reserved forher private use. Her children were with her, the girls having closedthe store earlier than usual, and with the beloved and rescued son andbrother in the midst, they were talking over the exciting events of theweek.

  “When I look back upon what has happened for the past two or threeweeks,” said the happy mother, “it seems like a dream. There I was, dayafter day, and week after week, watching the papers, and no news ofthe vessel, a short passage too. Then I got Captain Folger to writeto Halifax, and the consignee wrote that they supposed the vessel waslost, as one of her boats, bottom up, had been found, and a bucketthat had the vessel’s name on it. A husband and son both buried in theocean. It tore open the old wounds, and they bled afresh; brought upall the anguish of your father’s loss anew. I felt it was more than Icould bear. How I begged and plead with my heavenly Father for yourlife, Arthur, the widow’s only hope! And some how, whenever I rosefrom my knees, I felt better than when I knelt down; a feeling asthough, some how or other, the cup would pass from me, seemed to takepossession of me, and this feeling kept me, for the most part of thetime, on my knees. I felt better and happier there than anywhere else.”

  “Don’t you think, mother, when I came to be on that raft, provisionsand water all gone, the captain raving mad and jumping overboard, myshipmates dying one after another, that I didn’t think of you, andthat you were praying for me? Poor little Ned and I, our throats wereso dry and parched we couldn’t speak so as to be heard by each otherabove the winds and waves. I fell into a doze, and dreamed I saw a mostbeautiful grove of apple trees all in blossom, and a great long tablespread under them, covered with piles and piles of meat, and greatgoblets, that held a gallon, full of the clearest water; and you wassitting at it, and saying, ‘Come, Arthur, this is all for you.’ I triedso hard to move towards you, it woke me; and I heard a shout, ‘Raft,ahoy! Is there anybody can take a line?’ Then I knew there was help. Itried to shout, but couldn’t. I could only raise my arm. Soon I heardsomething strike the raft; a voice shouted, ‘All fast!’ and two menstood over us. They were Mr. Ben Rhines and Charlie Bell. They told meto keep my heart up, for they would stick by me; but I was so overcomeI fainted away.”

  “Brother,” said Ellen, “didn’t you suffer terribly before you got solow as that?”

  “Tongue can’t describe it; but the thirst was the worst. But here I amnow, sitting before this comfortable fire, in this old room where wehave spent so many happy hours, with you all around me. I’m sure, asmother says, it seems like a dream to me.”

  “I hope,” said the widow, “such trials and such mercies will make usbetter; they certainly should.”

  “I feel that it has been good for me,” said Eliza. “I thought, whenwe were in that agony of uncertainty, ‘O that I, too, could pray withmother! that I had a right to, as I felt she had! But when CaptainRhines’s letter came, I did go to God with tears of thankfulness, andtrust I was accepted.”

  “I thought, if my poor boy’s life could only be spared, even if he wasa cripple, or injured for life, I could ask no more. And then to havehim come home so well and happy, with such a friend as God has raisedup for us all in Captain Rhines! Yet I can never think upon him and hiskindness but it makes me reflect upon myself.”

  “Why so, mother?” said Arthur.

  “Your father was of most open and generous nature, far too much sofor his own interest, and, as I then thought, for that of his family,while my disposition was very different. My parents were poor, and Iwas brought up by a relative, early taught hardship, knew the value ofmoney, and was naturally prudent. Your father would take the clothesoff his back to put on anybody else. I used to go to sea with him,when we were first married; and when sailors came on board withoutclothes, he would give them clothing, fix them all up, and make themcomfortable. I used to tell him, sometimes, that if they drank,gambled, and threw all their money away, they ought to suffer theconsequences, and his first duty was to his family. But it was no useto reason with him; he couldn’t help it—couldn’t bear to see anybodysuffer; and at length I refrained from saying anything on the subject,but tried to economize all I could, to offset his liberality. He neverconcerned himself about household matters, was gone a great part of thetime, and left everything to me.

  “He would come home, and bring barrels of sugar and molasses for familyuse, and bags of coffee, and have them hauled up to the house; and alsoquantities of fine cloths from Europe and the East Indies for me andthe children, and material for towels, curtains, and bedding. After hewas gone, I would live as prudently as possible, sell a great part ofthe things sent home, and put by the money against time of need.

  “After our third child was born, he began to alter gradually, andseemed to have different ideas, became more prudent, and, as he was aman of great business talent, began to accumulate, and soon owned agood part of the vessel, and, had he lived, would have become a wealthyman, but was taken away in a moment. There was no insurance on the shipor cargo, and all he had accumulated was gone, except this house. Then,being left a widow, with a young family, I found the benefit of thelittle I had saved.”

  “I’m sure, mother,” said Eliza, “I don’t see what you have to reflecton, except with satisfaction. You were not saving for yourself, but forus children, and for father, had he lived to be old, and past labor.”

  “Ah, but I was so anxious that your father should lay up something forhis family, that after he was gone, I felt that perhaps I had said morethan I ought; sometimes, too, I would discourage him from doing forothers, when it did not consist in giving money; when he would spend agreat deal of time at sea in teaching some young man navigation, when,as I thought, he ought to have been asleep in his berth, or resting;often, when he was on shore, and I wanted him to go with me, hewould be running here and there, night and day, to get a vessel builtfor somebody, and oftentimes get small thanks for it, as I told him.Then he would say, ‘Harriet, we were put into this world to help eachother; we ought not to feel vexed or disappointed if we do not alwaysreceive gratitude from those we have befriended, when we consider howungrateful we are ourselves to our Maker, but do our duty.’ Thesethings often came up in memory, after he was taken away, and I wouldhave given anything if I had not said some things, and could have takenthem back.”

  “But, mother,” said Ellen, “I don’t think you ought to feel so. Youmeant it for his good.”

  “I thought I did, at the time; but since then I have felt there was agood deal of selfishness at the bottom, that ought not to have beenthere; that your father felt it, and it pained him, for I could see ashade of sadness flit across his face, like a cloud across the sun in aspring morning.”

  “Don’t cry, mother,” said Arthur, putting his arm around her, andwiping away the tear that trembled on her cheek.

  “But when,” she continued, in a voice broken with emotion, “in themidst of my anguish about you, that letter came from Pleasant Cove,telling me your life had been saved by Captain Rhines (one of the veryboys your father had worked so hard to help), so full of sentiments ofaffection for your father, and gratitude for the favors he had receivedfrom him, and a few days later your letter, telling me of theirkindness to you and Ned, I was overcome.”

  “O, mother, I can’t tell you one half they did for me, because it can’tbe told; for it was not only what they did, but the way they did it. Itcame so right out of the heart. They seemed to love to do it, and itwas done with such looks and tones of love.”

  “Yes; and when that noble man came up here, and couldn’t doenough—wanted to take us all home with him—insisting upon it, didn’tI feel condemned for trying to hinder your father from helping others,and telling him he got small thanks for it? Here, n
ow, is one of thosevery persons, becoming a father to his son, putting him right intobusiness at once.”

  “Well, mother, I’ve made up my mind to one thing—I’ll try to showmyself my father’s son, and practise that which I approve of so muchin others. I’ll let Captain Rhines, Mr. Ben, Charlie, John, and theothers see that I am not deficient in gratitude. If God gives me lifeand strength, the grass shan’t grow on that vessel’s bottom. I’ll makeher a happy vessel for sailors, and help every young man I can, asfather told Captain Rhines to do when he asked him how he could repayhim. And as he has helped me, whether I get any thanks for it or not,I’ll look higher than that for my reward,—I’ll get it in doing myduty. I’ll begin with my shipmate, little Ned Gates.”

  “I am glad to hear you talk thus, Arthur. Your father’s principle wasthe true one,—do right because it is right,—and from all I haveseen, it generally bears the best fruit even in this life. There wasyour uncle David, just the opposite of your father; always savingfor his children; so close as to be on the edge of dishonesty, ifnot actually dishonest; never had a thought or care for any one buthimself or his own, and, just as he had amassed a large property, wentinto a great speculation in his old age for the sake of getting more,when he had more than enough already risked the whole, and lost thewhole. Now, worn out, and broken down, without a house over his head,everybody says, ‘Served him right,’ and his children all poor, whileyour father’s good name and deeds have been money at interest for hisfamily, and the bread he cast upon the waters has come back after manydays.”

  “Mother, there’s one thing I want you to do before I go to sea.”

  “What is that, Arthur?”

  “Just send off these boarders,—no longer make a slave ofyourself,—and take some comfort. The girls are doing well in thestore; George supports himself; I am going to have business, andCaptain Rhines has given you and the girls money; so there’s no need ofworking, and wearing your life out now.”

  “I couldn’t feel right, Arthur, if I were not earning something; athousand dollars would soon be spent, come to sit down and live uponit; you may have hard luck at sea; the girls are doing well, to besure, but they have got to return the money that friends loaned themto start with. I have put that thousand dollars in the bank, againsta rainy day; besides, I have another reason for wishing to earnsomething.”

  “What is it?” asked Ellen.

  “I want to atone for past selfishness, and follow your father’s examplein doing what little I can to help those poorer than myself. It’s butlittle I can do, to be sure, but I mean to do that little cheerfully,and I trust ‘twill be accepted. There is the mother of poor JamesWatts, who was on the raft, and died. She is poor, and bereft of allher dependence, for he was a good boy, and gave her all his earnings,while my child was spared, and friends raised up to help me; and I meanto do all I can to help and comfort her. I mean to act on your father’sprinciple, ‘Harriet, we were put into this world to help each other.’”

  “At any rate, mother, you need not have so large a family and work sohard; you can keep more help; you must gratify me in that.”

  “Well, I will, my son.”

  At this period of the conversation, the servant announced that a youngman wanted to see Arthur.

  “It is Ned; tell him to come in here. Good evening, Edward; sit downbeside me; this is more comfortable than the raft.”

  “Indeed it is, sir.”

  “I suppose you hardly care to sail salt water any more, you’ve had suchbad luck this time.”

  “O, yes, sir; old Captain Osborne tells me some people have all theirbad luck at once, and that it’s a good sign when a man falls overboardbefore the vessel leaves the wharf, or is wrecked at the first goingoff. He says that ship was cursed.”

  “Was cursed!” said Mrs. Brown; “what did he mean by that?”

  “He says, marm, that he knew that captain; that he was a cruel man tosailors, abused and starved them (that I know to be true); that it wasthought he had murdered men. Are you going again, Mr. Brown?”

  “Yes, Edward. Captain Rhines and his folks are building me a vessel; Iexpect the keel is laid by this time.”

  “Can I go with you, sir?”

  “Yes, if your parents are willing.”

  “They are willing I should go with _you_, sir.”

  “It will be some months before the vessel is ready; now, you better goto school, and get all the learning you can.”

  “Yes, sir; shall I study navigation?”

  “No; I’ll teach you that on board ship. Study arithmetic andbook-keeping, learn to keep accounts and write a business hand, andstudy trigonometry and geography. If we live to get to sea in the ship,we won’t starve, or abuse anybody, nor pass any wrecks, and try not tohave the vessel cursed. We know what it is, my boy, to starve, and tobe helped in distress, and will do as we have been done by.”

  “Mr. Brown, don’t you think the folks at Pleasant Cove and round thereare the best folks that could be?”

  “Yes, Ned.”

  “But don’t you think Charlie is handsome,—the handsomest man that everwas?”

  “I think Captain Rhines is handsome.”

  “Yes, sir; but Charlie Bell; is it any hurt for me to call him Charlie?They all down there call each other so, and somehow I seem to love himmore when I don’t put the handle on.”

  “No, indeed; do you love me better when you don’t put on the handle?”

  “No, sir; because I have been used to calling you Mr. Brown, and itcomes natural, and I couldn’t love you any better than I do.”

  “I suppose, Ned, Charlie looks handsome to you, and Captain Rhines tome, because we had the most to do with them; but they are both reallyfine-looking men. Most people would think John Rhines a finer specimenof a man than Charlie. I have seen a great many men, but I never inall my life saw so fine a proportioned young man as John Rhines; if helives, he’ll be almost as strong as Ben. Charlie is the handsomest,John the most manly.”

  “But, sir, do you know what I thought (I suppose I was wandering) afterthey took us off the raft, and I kind of came to? I opened my eyes,and Charlie was bending over the bed. I looked him right in the face;such a beautiful face, so much goodness in it, I thought I had got toheaven, and that an angel was hovering over me; and then, when I cameto myself, he was so kind,—fed me with a spoon, took me in his arms,and put me in a chair, just as my mother would; and Ben Rhines, thoughhe ain’t handsome, he is just as good as the rest. Uncle Isaac and FredWilliams, they are all just as good as they can be. I mean to go downthere, and stay a month at Pleasant Cove, and Elm Island. They asked meto.”