The Harvest of Years Part 40

This number seemed to be the complement of the Home,--as many as could comfortably be accommodated. It was a pleasant care to Jane, for her heart was in the work, and she looked younger now than before the work began. The wishes of the boys were consulted, and each one as nearly fitted to the place he occupied as possible. Jane said, when they first began to multiply, the care troubled her some; but she began to talk to herself, and to say: "There now, don't be foolish enough to notice every little caper of them boys," and then, she said: "I began to practise what I preached to myself. It worked first-rate, for I give over watchin' 'em, and we get along splendid."

There was a breathless silence when Louis said:

"We are here at the request of your friend, children, the blessed Aunt Hildy who has left a word for you. You know she loved you, and I imagine at this moment you are each wearing a pair of stockings which were knit for you by her. Now listen, please, while Mr. Minot reads to you her letter."

Then, in a slow and impressive manner, father read as follows:

"My dear folks at the Home. I'm about to leave this world for a better, and on the borders of that blessed land I think of you. I think of your happy faces and of Mr. and Mrs. Turner, who love you so much, and I should like to have you know that I expect to meet you all over there.

You boys will grow to be good men, and you girls, who are like sweet pinks to my mind, I want you to make blessed good women every one of you. Now I think the good folks who take care of you would be thankful to have a school-house of their own, and teachers who are interested in the work of helping you along; and to give a little help, I leave to Mr.

and Mrs. Turner eight hundred dollars--two hundred is in the box in one dollar gold pieces--to build a school-house with. You know I own a piece of land next to yours, and here in this plot of two acres I want you to put up this school-house. Give Mr. Brown the work, and let him draw up the plan with Mr. Turner; I've figured it out, and I think there's enough to build a good, substantial building such as you need; and the deed of the two acres I give to the children. Each one of their names is there, including those of the two that came first. Let each one, ef old enough, do as he or she pleases with the ground. Ef they want to raise marigolds, let 'em, and ef they want to raise garden sa.s.s, let 'em. I should think Burton Brown would like to step in as a teacher, and I believe he will, but the rest you can manage.

"Now this is all. When you get the school-house built you'll want a walk around it, and ef you should have a border of flowers, you may put in some 'live forever' for me, for that means truth, and that is what I want you to find. If f.a.n.n.y Mason feels like goin' over to Mis' Minot's to live with her, I'd like to have her go, and if she does, she'll find two chests and a trunk full of things I've left that she needs, but she must have her piece of ground here just the same. The deed I have made is recorded, and I would like to have Mr. Dayton survey the land, and make the division of it. Then you can each one of you hold your own as long as you live, Mr. and Mrs. Turner keepin' it in trust till the law says you're of age."

The hearts of the children were touched at this token of love. Bright eyes reflected happy thoughts. f.a.n.n.y Mason was the first to speak. She looked at my mother, while her eyes swam in tears.

"May I come, Mrs. Minot?--I would like to help somebody, and it must be right or she would not have written it."

Mother held her hand to her, and I thought I never saw grat.i.tude more plainly written than upon the face of f.a.n.n.y. She was one of the three girls whom Louis found in the city streets, the eldest of the flock, and so good and amiable we had always loved her. When mother held her hand out to her in answer to her question, little Emily thought it time to speak, and putting out both her own, said:

"Tum, Panny, et, you outer."

"I will," said f.a.n.n.y, as she gathered her in her arms.

"I'm goin' to have flowers," I heard one little fellow say.

"I'm goin' to raise corn," said another.

Mr. Davis was with us this evening, and after the children had given vent to their joy, he rose, saying:

"I have a word to say of our dear good friend, Mrs. Patten. About four weeks before she left us, I had a long talk with her. She told me of her pleasant antic.i.p.ations and also that she expected to see me there ere long. Her last words on that memorable occasion were, as nearly as I can remember, these: 'I go from death to life, from bondage to freedom. All I have of earth I want to leave where it shall point toward heaven, or a higher condition of things. If you were to stay, Brother Davis, you should do some of this work, but you must get yourself ready, and you need no more to dispose of.' I feel that this is true, and I ask you, children, to feel that I shall hope to be remembered by you through time. The lesson of harmonious action has been taught upon these hills, and when the years to come shall brighten our pathway, tired hearts will still be waiting. The angel of deliverance will be present then, as now, and the munificence of those who have gone from us, as well as of those who are yet in the body, has made the strong foundation on which to stand; and in the blest future your hands will be helpful, while your hearts shall sing of those whose hearts and hands did great service for the advancement of love and truth. My heart is glad; I have learned much; I know that our Father holds so closely his beloved, that no one of his children shall call to him unheard."

We had a real meeting, as Jane expressed it, and I said to Louis:

"What a great fire a small matter kindleth!"

He replied: "We have claimed the promise and brought to our hearts the strength we need 'where two or three are gathered together.' You know I often think of this, and also of the incomparable comfort the entire world would have if the eyes that are blinded could see; if the hearts that beat slow and in fear were quickened into life. Ah! Emily, the years to come hold wondrous changes. The cruel hand of war would never have touched us had the first lesson in life's book been well read and understood."

"That is true," said my father, as we entered the gate at home, and looking up I saw two stars, and said:

"Clara and Aunt Hildy both say 'Amen!'"

CHAPTER XXIII.

AUNT HILDY'S LEGACY.

It was the spring of 1862, when "Aunt Hildy's Plot" was the scene of happy labor. Uncle Dayton made the survey of the land and a map of it.

All the children knew the boundaries of their individual territories; and the youngest among them, five-year-old Sammy, strutted about with his hands in his pockets, whistling and thinking, now and then giving vent to his joy. When he saw Louis and me coming, for we all went over to see the ground broken for the schoolhouse, he came toward us hurriedly, saying with great earnestness:

"I shall raise much as three dollars' worth of onions on my land. Do you s'pose I can sell em, Mr. Desmonde? I want to sell 'em and put the money in the bank, for when I get money enough I'm going to build a house, and get married, too, I guess."

Louis answered him kindly, as he did all the rest, and when we went home he said he held more secrets than any one man ought to.

The dedication of our schoolhouse was a grand affair. It came off on the seventeenth of June. Uncle Dayton and Aunt Phebe came, and we gathered the children from the town and village, clothed them in white with blue ribbons streaming from their hats, and had them marched in line into the building--the first two holding aloft a banner which Louis and I had made for them. Many came from the surrounding town, and three of our friends from Boston. There were speeches made by Mr. Davis, Uncle Dayton, Louis, John, and others, and singing by the children. It was a glorious time, and we felt that our beloved Aunt Hildy must now be looking down upon us with an approving smile; and when the marble statuette of her dear self was placed in a niche, made for its reception, it seemed to me I could hear Clara say, "It is beautifully appropriate."

The mode of operation was to be decided on, and when Louis spoke with feeling of the coming days, he said to the children:

"You are our children; we are your friends; and together we mean to be self-supporting, instead of going about among the people soliciting alms. We will be pensioners on each other's bounty, and when we are strong enough to aid others who need our a.s.sistance, we will send forth gladly comforts from our home. Some little boys who are to raise strawberries on their patch of ground, will be glad to carry a dish of berries to some poor invalid; and so with everything you do, remember the happiness of doing something for those around us, for the poor we have always with us. I have been thinking about a teacher. Mr. Brown, our little Burton from the mill, has engaged to teach school in an adjoining village, and for a time cannot come to you. He will be able to be your teacher after awhile, and I understand that is his wish. I never taught school myself, but I have been wondering if you would like me to try until he is ready. All those who would like me to come, say aye."

I rather think Louis heard that response. I started, for such a sharp, shrill sound rent the air that the window gla.s.s quivered as if about to break."

"Now all who do not wish me for a teacher, say no."

A calm like that of the Dead Sea ensued, to be broken after a second by little Sammy, who cried:

"Oh, pooh! There ain't n.o.body."

"Agreed," said Louis; "then I am elected, am I?"

"Yes, sir!" shouted the children.

"Then we'll hear you sing 'Hail Columbia,' and separate for the day. I hope the summer will be a happy one for you all!"

It will be impossible to fully describe "Aunt Hildy's Plot," as it appeared in the days when everything was settled, and the children at work in earnest, each with an idea born of himself.

I thought I saw little that spoke to me of original sin and of the depravity which, according to an ancient creed, grew in the human heart as a part of each individual. There were strawberry beds and raspberry rooms, patches of lettuce and peppergra.s.s, long rows of corn with trailing bean-vines in their rear, hedges of peas and string beans, and young trees set out in different places, like sentinels of love and care reaching toward the overarching sky.

Little Sammy had his onion patch as he desired. It was a happy sight, and one that touched the heart, to see each one progressing methodically day after day. They worked an hour before breakfast, and as long as they pleased after supper. They took great comfort in "changing works," as they called it; you would hear them say:

"Now, let's all go over to Joe's land this afternoon, and to John's to-morrow;" and in this way they sowed and reaped together.

The plot measured considerably more than two acres, and there was a s.p.a.ce of about twenty square rods for each.

This, when properly cared for, made for them nice gardens to take care of. Louis succeeded, of course, in the school. The building had cost considerably more than six hundred dollars, for we knew it was wise to build it of brick rather than wood, and also to have room enough for an increase of pupils.

Louis said, when it was being built:

"I can see, Emily, the days to come; the harvest that shall arise; and for years, perhaps, the hands of the reapers will not number many. Some of the seed will fall on barren soil, and some of the grain that waits for the reaper will spoil; but in the end, yes, in the gathering up of all, the century shall dawn that lights the world with these dear thoughts that feed us to-day. Work and pleasure go hand in hand with the progressive thought that after a time shall blend the souls of men with those of angels, for 'the earth is the Lord's and the fullness thereof.'

I feel that I have escaped so much in coming here when I did. These hills have, with your presence, my beloved, made it the shrine of purity, and the vows here taken have absolved my soul. The little things that arise to annoy us may not be called trouble, and we shall live here till our hair is gray; till Emily Minot shall take in her own hands the reins that fall from the hands of her mother; for I feel that all the unfinished pictures which we shall leave will be completed, some at the hands of our daughter, and others by those whose hearts we shall learn to know.

Before we leave this lower state To join the well-beloved who wait, Our little mother helps us here, Our guardian angel through each year.

She was as beautiful as fair; How glorious an angel there!'"

And the face of my Louis, transfigured by his thought, shone with a light that seemed to come from afar. I loved so well to hear him preach, that when Mr. Davis' health became too precarious for him to occupy the pulpit longer, I was glad to hear Louis say he would accept the place tendered by Mr. Davis and by all the people of our town. I say all the people, although perhaps there were a few who, liking to be busy and failing to look for anything better, occupied themselves with the small talk which made sometimes great noise without really touching anybody; but we did not count this in life's cost, and were not affected by it.

Louis treated all with uniform kindness, and taught them the lessons they could not fail to appreciate, though, as he had said, some of the seed must fall on barren ground. It is not to be supposed that the mill-owners were glad to lose the work of the children, for it was worth much and cost little; but since they were not powerful enough to establish monarchical government, they were forced to submit, and they submitted gracefully, too, from the policy which, as Louis had said, whispered "He has money," and they might sometime desire favor at his hands.