Hope and Have Part 1

Hope and Have.

by Oliver Optic.

PREFACE.

The fifth volume of the Woodville stories contains the experience of f.a.n.n.y Grant, who from a very naughty girl became a very good one, by the influence of a pure and beautiful example, exhibited to the erring child in the hour of her greatest wandering from the path of rect.i.tude.

The story is not an ill.u.s.tration of the "pleasures of hope;" but an attempt to show the young reader that what we most desire, in moral and spiritual, as well as worldly things, we labor the hardest to obtain--a truism adopted by the heroine in the form of the princ.i.p.al t.i.tle of the volume, Hope and Have.

The terrible Indian ma.s.sacre which occurred in Minnesota, in 1862, is the foundation of the latter half of the story; and the incidents, so far as they have been used, were drawn from authentic sources. f.a.n.n.y Grant's experience is tame compared with that of hundreds who suffered by this deplorable event; and her adventures, in company with Ethan French, are far less romantic than many which are sufficiently attested by the princ.i.p.al actors in them.

Once more, and with increased pleasure, the author tenders to his juvenile friends his thanks for their continued kindness to him and his books; and he hopes his present offering will both please and benefit them.

WILLIAM T. ADAMS.

HARRISON SQUARE, Ma.s.s., July 16, 1866.

CHAPTER I.

THE NAUGHTY GIRL.

"Now you will be a good girl, f.a.n.n.y Jane, while I am gone--won't you?"

said f.a.n.n.y Grant, who has several times before appeared in these stories, to f.a.n.n.y Jane Grant, her namesake, who has not before been presented to our readers.

"O, yes, Miss f.a.n.n.y; I will be ever so good; I won't even look wrong,"

replied f.a.n.n.y Jane, whose snapping black eyes even then beamed with mischief.

"I am afraid you don't mean what you say," added Miss f.a.n.n.y, suspiciously.

"Yes, I do; I mean every word of it, and more too."

"You make large promises; and I find when you promise most, you perform least."

"But, certain true as I live, I won't do a single thing this time,"

protested f.a.n.n.y Jane. "Won't you believe me?"

"You have deceived me so often that I do not know when to trust you."

"I have turned over a new leaf, and I mean to be just as good as ever I can be."

"If you are not good, f.a.n.n.y Jane, I shall feel very bad when I return.

I have done a great deal for you, and I hope you will think of it if you are tempted to do wrong during my absence. This time, in particular, I wish you to behave very well, and not do any mischief.

You know what father says about you?"

"He don't like me," pouted f.a.n.n.y Jane.

"When you are good he likes you."

"He scolds me all the time."

"He never scolds you; he reproves you when you do wrong, and I am sorry to say that is very often indeed. He says, if you do not behave better, he shall send you back to your uncle at the west."

"I don't want to go there."

"But you must, if you do not do better. He would have sent you before if I had not interceded for you."

"Hadn't what?"

"If I hadn't begged him not to do so."

"I won't be sent back to my uncle's, any how," replied f.a.n.n.y Jane, sharply; for the intimations of what might be, roused a spirit of resentment, rather than of penitence, in her mind.

"We will not talk about that now, f.a.n.n.y Jane. We are going to Hudson to spend a week. The strongest objection to our visit was, that you would not behave well while we were gone."

"O, I will behave well!"

"We intend to trust you once more. If you disappoint me this time, I shall not be able to say another word in your favor; and I am quite sure father will send you off to Minnesota just as soon as we get back."

The carriage was waiting at the door; Bertha was already seated, and f.a.n.n.y, having done all she could to insure the good behavior of the troublesome young miss who had become her peculiar charge, hastened to join her sister, and they were driven away towards the railroad station.

In the two tall and elegant ladies, seated in the Woodville family carriage, our readers would hardly recognize Bertha and f.a.n.n.y Grant, for eight years have elapsed since they were introduced, as children, to our young friends. Bertha maintains her pure and beautiful character, and is still a blessing to the family, and to the neighborhood in which she resides. f.a.n.n.y is taller and prettier than her sister; and, having put away her childish follies, she is quite a dignified personage.

Mighty events had transpired since they were children, and the country was entering upon the second year of the great civil war, which desolated the sunny South, and carried mourning to almost every household of the free North. Richard Grant had already distinguished himself as a captain in a popular New York regiment, of which the Rev.

Ogden Newman, whilom Noddy, was the chaplain.

Mr. Grant had retired from active business, and had been succeeded by Mr. Sherwood, his clerk, who, having a high appreciation of the excellent character of Bertha, was about to enter into more intimate relations with his employer and predecessor in business. Bertha was to become Mrs. Sherwood in June, and, as Mr. Grant had reluctantly accepted a financial mission from the government, which compelled him to visit Europe, it had been arranged that the bridal tour should be a trip across the Atlantic, in which f.a.n.n.y was to accompany them. If the general conduct of Miss f.a.n.n.y Jane Grant had been sufficiently meritorious to warrant the extending of the privilege to her, doubtless she also would have been one of the party, for she had been for two years a member of the family.

f.a.n.n.y Jane was a distant relative of the Grants of Woodville. Mr.

Grant had two cousins, John and Edward, the latter of whom--the father of the wayward girl--had died three years previous to her introduction to the reader. At the time of his decease, he was in the employ of the wealthy broker, as a travelling agent. Just before his death, which occurred in a western city, while conscious that his end was near, he had written a letter to Mr. Grant, begging him to see that his only child was properly cared for when he could no longer watch over her.

Edward Grant's wife had been dead several years. At her decease f.a.n.n.y Jane had been committed to the care of her father's brother, then residing in Illinois. Mr. Grant, impressed by the solemn duty intrusted to him by his deceased cousin, promptly wrote to the child's uncle, who was dependent upon his own exertions for his daily bread, offering any a.s.sistance which the orphan might need; but no demand was made upon him.

A year after the father's death, Mr. Grant's business affairs required him to visit the west, and he improved the opportunity to satisfy himself that the charge committed to him by the dying father was well cared for. On his arrival he was not pleased with the relations subsisting between f.a.n.n.y Jane and her aunt. Mrs. Grant declared that the child was stubborn, wilful, and disobedient, needing frequent and severe punishment. On the other hand, f.a.n.n.y said that her aunt abused her; worked her "almost to death;" did not give her good things to eat, and whipped her when she "did not do anything."

Mr. Grant was a prudent and judicious man. He conversed with each party alone, and, being then in doubt, he consulted the uncle. John Grant's testimony, in the main, confirmed that of his wife, though he was willing to confess that the aunt "might have been a little hard on the child." Mr. Grant was far from satisfied; he thought it more than probable that f.a.n.n.y was wilful, but he could not endure to think of her being abused. The sacred duty imposed upon him could not be trifled with, and, as the only method by which he could meet the demands of his conscience, he decided to take the orphan to Woodville with him.

The uncle and the aunt, who had no children of their own, objected to this procedure, both because they did not wish to part with the child, and because her withdrawal from their care implied a condemnation of their former treatment of the orphan. Mr. Grant, however, succeeded in overcoming both of these objections, and they consented that f.a.n.n.y should remain at Woodville for two years; Mrs. Grant a.s.suring the benevolent broker that he would be glad to get rid of her in less than six months.

f.a.n.n.y had behaved so well during the stay of Mr. Grant at her uncle's house, that he was completely deceived in regard to her real character.

The presence of so important a person as the wealthy broker, who had been represented to her as a person hardly less dignified than the President of the United States, had overawed her, and put her on her best behavior. Her kind friend, therefore, was unable to realize that the orphan girl was half so bad as she was described to be by her aunt.

Edward Grant, while in the employ of the broker, had often visited Woodville, and being especially pleased with the person and the manners of Miss f.a.n.n.y, had named his own daughter after her. On the arrival of the orphan at her new home, it was deemed fitting that Miss f.a.n.n.y should have the especial care of her namesake, then only ten years of age. f.a.n.n.y Jane, amid the novelties of the great house, and the beautiful grounds, was so much occupied for a few weeks that she behaved very well; but when she grew weary of horses and boats, house and grounds, she astonished her young mistress by conduct so outrageous that Miss f.a.n.n.y wept in despair over the miserable failure she made in governing her charge.

Miss Bertha was called in to a.s.sist in taming the refractory subject; but it was soon found that f.a.n.n.y Jane had none of the chivalrous reverence which had rendered the wild Noddy Newman tolerably tractable, and her failure was as complete and ignominious as that of her sister.

Mr. Grant was finally appealed to; and the sternness and severity to which he was compelled to resort were, for a time, effectual. But even these measures began to be impotent, and the broker realized that the uncle and aunt had understood the case better than himself.