The Two Story Mittens and the Little Play Mittens Part 9

MRS. L. Go, my son, go; it will gratify me.

EDWARD. Oh! then I will fly. What shall I order?

MRS. L. The very best in the house.

MORRIS (_running after him_). Wait, Edward, I will go with you, and help you give the order. I know what my mother likes.

SCENE X.

MRS. L. Well, dear nurse, how do you get on since you have moved into your new cottage?

MARY. Oh! capitally, ma'am.

MRS. L. And your husband, big Peter--is he pleased and contented?

MARY. He is so, ma'am, as happy as a king! Daisy--that's our cow, ma'am--has just given us a beautiful calf; we have fifty chickens, twenty geese, and a good old pony who carries our vegetables to the railroad station for the New York market. I thank G.o.d, and you who have been so good to us.

MRS. L. Is big Peter industrious, and does he bring up Morris in the right way?

MARY. Oh! thank G.o.d again for all his mercies. I am not proud; but my boy is the best boy in the whole neighborhood, and so smart! he reads in the biggest books; he does the most terrible long sums, almost like a flash of lightning--his schoolmaster is astonished at his quickness; his head is just as full as it can hold of learning, and his heart is just as full of love for his father and mother. (_She falters, and the tears rush into her eyes_).

MRS. L. (_very kindly_). I am delighted to hear this; he will always be a comfort to you if he is so good now. But here he comes--he looks distressed.

SCENE XI.--MRS. LANGDON, MARY, MR. SHERWOOD, _and_ MORRIS.

MORRIS (_crying and rubbing his eyes_). Oh, dear!

MARY. What's the matter, my son? Have you had a tumble?

MORRIS. No, mother; never mind.

MARY. But tell me, what has happened?

MORRIS (_trying to lead her away_). Come, mother, let us go away.

MRS. L. Where Is Edward?

MORRIS. In the garden, ma'am. Come, mother, come; I want to go home. I don't like this place.

MRS. L. No doubt Edward is picking a basket of fruit for you.

MORRIS. I rather think not. Mother, I beg you to let us leave at once. I have my reasons.

MR. S. And I can guess them. Edward has been beating you--has he not?

MRS. L. Impossible!!!

MORRIS. Very possible, indeed. In fact, quite certain.

MRS. L. Dear me! did he hurt you much?

MORRIS. It is not the pain. I could have beaten him twice as hard if I wanted to. What hurts me most is what he said.

MRS. L. And, pray, what did he say?

MORRIS. Well, ma'am, when I wanted to hug old Beppo, he told me to take my paws from the dog's neck; that I was a country b.u.mpkin, and a big clumsy b.o.o.by, and no brother of his; and the sooner I skedaddled home the better he should be pleased.

MARY. Oh! the unnatural, wicked boy! You are right, my son; we will go home, where we are not despised. Good bye, Mrs. Langdon; Master Edward is your son; but I no longer think of him as the child I fed at my breast, and loved nearly as my own. He has struck his brother! Come, my son, you are not his equal; therefore you cannot be his friend.

MRS. L. But listen one moment, Mary.

MARY. No, ma'am; we will not stay where we have been so humbled; we are plain country folks, but we have hearts and feelings, and your son has neither. G.o.d will never bless him. Such pride has no place in heaven.

MRS. L. You are right, Mary; but perhaps Morris offended him. You have not heard both sides.

MORRIS. Yes, I offended him. I put my arms round his neck to hug him, when he threw me off; and when I said that that was not the way to treat a brother, he struck me!--more than once, too!--and said those mean, cruel things.

MARY. Oh, the little villain!

MR. S. Are your eyes still blinded, Mrs. Langdon? Can you still find excuses? Will you praise his good heart when he dares to ill-treat and strike his nurse's son?

MRS. L. (_weeping_). No, I cannot excuse him; his ingrat.i.tude and wicked conduct have nearly broken my heart. What shall I do?

MR. S. I have just thought of a plan, madam. It is a desperate remedy; but I know of nothing else in the wide world that will cure him.

MRS. L. Tell me--what is it?

MR. S. (_aside_). Nurse, send away your son for a few moments; he must not know what I am about to say.

MARY. I understand, sir. Morris, go to the stable, and see if old Whitenose has eaten all he wants.

MORRIS (_jumping up with animation_). I am to put him to the wagon, am I not? and then we are to go home. Oh, I am so very glad.

[_Exit._

SCENE XII.

MRS. L. We are alone now, Mr. Sherwood. Ah, if you knew how much I loved my son, and how unhappy I am!

MARY. I love him, too, in spite of his bad heart.

MRS. L. Well, what are you going to propose? To have him beaten black and blue? I am ready for anything.

MR. S. Don't be alarmed, madam. It is his heart that is to be put to the trial; reverses and adversity often soften the heart; when one has suffered, he knows better how to pity the deprivations and sufferings of others. Your son has never been contradicted; he may be unkind and cruel sometimes from thoughtlessness and ignorance. Now, let us put his heart to a severe trial. Let us pretend that he is Mary's son, and Morris is really your son. Push the experiment so far as to send him to live with her, until he is thoroughly humbled, and his faults disappear.