Hesper, the Home-Spirit

“Well,” said aunt Betsey, “there’s no use in undertaking too much, and I have really come down with the intention of doing something to help you.”

Here she hesitated, for she really dreaded to make the proposition.

“You, Charlie;” whispered Fred – “if I should catch at her foot how she would jump.”

The thought of aunt Betsey’s surprise quite overcame Charlie, and in spite of his efforts he could not restrain a laugh.

“Mercy me!” exclaimed aunt Betsey. “What’s that?” and she looked directly under the bed. Her expressions of wonder, and the angry manner in which she eyed them over her spectacles, was perfectly irresistible, and laughing with all their might, they crept out.

“Well, I declare!” said she, “you act as though you weren’t half civilized, and I almost repent of my resolution. As I was just saying to Hesper, I came down to take you home with me, to spend a few days. It will be a great relief to your mother and sister, for I know you are bad boys, and are dreadfully troublesome.”

The boys were sober in a moment. Fred looked at Charlie and Charlie at Fred, but neither of them spoke a word. Now that aunt Betsey had given the invitation, she was quite determined they should go.

“Well, what is the matter?” said she, “I don’t want you to work for me. I only want you to behave yourselves, if you can, and I will do all I can to please you. You shall have some apples to roast, and if your Uncle Nathan is willing, I will give you one of his great pumpkins for a jack-o’lantern.”

It was evident that she had touched the right chord, for the boys assented immediately. Hesper was much pleased, and began to prepare them as soon as possible. Soon all was ready, and they set out, with the parting injunction from Hesper, to be good boys.

It was so quiet and peaceful after they were gone, and Hesper’s mind was so much relieved, that after making some gruel for her father’s dinner, she sat down in the great rocking chair, and in a few moments was fast asleep. Poor Hesper was almost sick. Mose watched her from day to day, and when he saw her cheek grow pale, his heart failed him. He sat very often upon the old log by the mill-dam, but it was not to think over his own troubles. They were all forgotten in his care for Hesper, and knowing not what else to do, he prayed for her most earnestly.

CHAPTER VIII.

POOR SUCCESS

Aunt Betsey did not find the boys so much of a hindrance as she had expected. They sat very quietly by the fire, looking at the pictures in a book of Natural History, while she continued sewing upon her bed-quilt as before. She soon had occasion though, to stir up the fire, and as she did so, she spied a great muddy foot-mark directly across the white rose in the centre of her rug. “O dear!” she exclaimed, “did I ever see such dirty children?” She was just beginning to scold, when she checked herself, for she thought that she was most to blame, for not telling them to clean their feet well when they came in. Charlie said he was very sorry, and Fred proposed that they should go out and scrape their boots directly. Meanwhile Aunt Betsey took the rug into the kitchen, and after a little drying and brushing it looked as well as ever.

“Well,” said she, “it isn’t so bad after all, and if I don’t meet with anything worse, I’ll not complain.”

When she went back she found that the boys after they had cleaned their boots, had left them in the entry, which pleased her very much. She gave them some apples to roast, and then she concluded to go down to her husband’s store of an errand.

“Be very careful,” said she, as she went out, “and behave yourselves properly till I come back.” When the boys had roasted their apples, they set them aside to cool, and began to play with the cats.

“Fred,” said Charlie, “shouldn’t you think that Aunt Betsey would be afraid that her cats would eat the birds?”

“O no,” said Fred, “for they hang so high they cannot get at them.”

“But,” continued Charlie, whose curiosity was always wide awake, “I wonder what the birds would do if they should see this old grey cat close to the cage?”

“Let’s try;” said Fred. “I’ll hold her tight,” and the “next moment he was standing up in a chair, under the cage, with the cat in his arms.

“I can’t reach,” said he. So he got down and looked about for something higher. Now that he had undertaken, he was quite determined to see the result of the experiment. While Charlie looked out for Aunt Betsey, Fred rolled the dining table into the middle of the floor, placed a chair on top, and then climbed up again with the cat. Of course the birds fluttered about in a great fright, and as might have been expected, the cat sprang at them. In his struggle to hold the cat, Fred lost his footing. He grasped at the cage to save himself, but the hook gave way, and down they all came together. Charlie opened the door and rushed out into the entry, followed by all of the cats. At first he thought he would take his cap and start for home immediately, and then he concluded to go back and see what had become of Fred. There he sat among the ruins looking very much bewildered.

“Are you hurt?” asked Charlie.

“No;” replied Fred, “but I expect I shall be, when Aunt Betsey comes.”

He got up quickly, and with Charlie’s assistance, they rolled the table into its place again.

“O dear! what shall we tell her?” said Charlie.

“Tell her the truth,” replied Fred, and then they both stood still and looked at the cage. Some of the birds were clinging to the wires, panting for breath, and one poor little fellow had his head thrust out, and his legs hanging down, perfectly helpless. The cage was bent all out of shape, and the glass cups for the seed and water were dashed in pieces.

“I wish that little bird would take his head in,” said Charlie. He put his finger gently against the bill to push it back, and the bird dropped motionless on the floor of the cage.

“He is dead!” said Charlie, and both boys burst into tears. They could have borne Aunt Betsey’s anger, they could have borne punishment, or anything that might have come because of this, without being deeply moved, but the sight of that little dead bird was heart-rending.

“Do you suppose that God sees it?” said Charlie.

“Yes,” replied Fred, “for it was only last night, Hesper told me that not a sparrow fell to the ground without His notice.” And as this thought came home to them with full force, they were wholly overcome, and burst into loud lamentations.

“Mercy me!” said Aunt Betsey, as she opened the door, “what is the matter?” and then she stood still in astonishment. “How did this happen?” she asked.

Fred tried to summon moral courage enough to tell the whole truth, but his heart failed him.

“O dear!” he sobbed, “the cage fell down, and one of the birds is dead.”

“How sorry I am;” said Aunt Betsey. And she looked more grieved than angry. “I am sure I thought the hook was strong enough.” She took the cage, and was about placing it on the table, when she observed the seed and the water scattered all over the cloth.

“Why! how is this?” she asked, and then she minded Fred’s jacket was in the same plight.

“I don’t know how to understand it,” she said – “did the cage fall upon you?”

“No,” stammered Fred, “I fell on to the cage.”

She shook her head and looked very serious. “It is plain,” said she, “that there is something wrong about this, and now I want you to tell me the whole truth. I am sorry for the injury done my carpet – I am sorry for the loss of my bird, but don’t tell a lie Fred, for that would be worse than all.”

Fred took his old calico handkerchief from his pocket, and after he had wiped his eyes, he looked up to Aunt Betsey with an honest face, and told her the whole truth.

She did not speak, but she sat down and thought a long time. It seemed to her that she must send them home directly – that she could not have them in the house another minute. Then she thought of poor Hesper – of her sick father and mother, and the disappointment it would be to all.

“I will try to be patient a little longer,” she said. She took up the cage and began to sweep the pieces of glass together.

“Don’t you mean to do anything to me?” asked Fred. “I think I deserve it.”

“No;” said aunt Betsey, looking very sober. She opened the cage, and taking out the dead bird, laid it in his hand —

“There,” said she, “if that don’t make you feel sorry, I don’t know what will.” Both of the boys burst into tears again, and cried so loud that aunt Betsey was right glad to pacify them. She put the dead bird out of sight, and told them they had best sit down by the fire, while she spread the table. They did as she desired, but they did not speak or stir from their chairs, and she knew by their deep sobs that their sorrow was unaffected. After dinner she asked them to wind some silk for her. They were glad to do anything she wished, and while Charlie held the skein, Fred wound it very carefully. When they had finished this, they asked her to let them do something else. She said she had a great basket of unshelled beans in the kitchen, and if they wished they might go out and shell them. She went with them, and after giving them some low seats, and a great basin to put the beans in, she went back to her work. For a long time she heard them chatting together and the beans dropping into the pan very fast. “I am glad,” she thought, “that I did not send them home. They seem to be very good hearted boys, only a little mischievous.” Then her thoughts became so much occupied with matching her pieces, that she forgot all about them.

Suddenly there came a terrible crash, and then a scream. She rushed into the kitchen as quickly as possible. There was her flower-stand completely overturned – the plants, pots and earth, scattered all about the floor, and Charlie lying in the midst. His nose was bleeding, and as he got up he was a most pitiful looking object. Fred stood by, pale with terror.

“He only went up the steps “ – stammered Fred by way of explanation – “to smell of the flower on top, and it all broke down together.”

Aunt Betsey gave way to her feelings in tears, for this was indeed a little more than she could bear.

“There, now,” said she, “that is enough. Get your caps and boots this minute, for I mean to take you straight home. I don’t know what will be done with you for this, but you can’t expect much mercy.”

The boys obeyed in silence. They dreaded to go home, but they dared not say a word against it. As they went along, accompanied by aunt Betsey, Fred looked up to the hills and woods beyond, longing for a chance to slip away and hide; for, as aunt Betsey said, he didn’t know what would be done with them, but she held their hands tightly and walked very fast, for she was much excited.

“There!” she exclaimed, as she threw open the door and made her appearance before Hesper, “I have brought them back. I would have kept them longer, but” – and she burst into tears – “they pulled down my cage and killed my bird, and broke my flower-stand all in pieces. I will sew for you – I will wash or bake, or do anything else to help you, but as to keeping these boys I can’t. If I were in your place I would send them to the House of Correction directly.” She waited for Hesper to reply, but she did not. The poor girl sat with her hands folded and her eyes fixed upon the floor. Her silent look of sorrow was more touching than words. Aunt Betsey could not bear it.