Bessie on Her Travels

The children followed the direction of his eye. Two figures were coming down the beach, – a tall one, and a little one. Was it possible? Yes; it really was Mr. Powers and Belle, dear little Belle, whom Bessie had been longing to see.

A shriek from Maggie, who went tumbling over a rock in her haste to reach them, but picked herself up and rushed on, regardless of grazed knees and elbows; an exclamation, less noisy, but quite as full of pleasure, from Bessie, – and the three little friends had met again. There was Frankie too, who had been carting sea-weed, but had dropped spade and wagon-tongue at sight of Belle, of whom he was very fond; and then there was such a hugging and kissing, such an interlacing of heads and arms and feet, that it would have been difficult to tell to which little person each set belonged. Belle did not object to the smothering she received; on the contrary, she seemed to enjoy it, and Frankie soon relieved her from his share, saying in a tone of great importance, —

“I have bis-er-ness to ’tend to,” and marched off to his sea-weed.

“I shall call Newport the ‘Country of Happy Delights’ when I write about it in the ‘Complete Family,’” said Maggie. “I never did see such a place. Did you happen here, Belle, or did you know you were coming?”

“We happened,” said Belle, “least Daphne and I did; but I think papa knew we were coming when he brought us.”

“That was just the way with us,” said Bessie: “all the big people knew we were coming; but Maggie and I were so glad and surprised. How long have you been here, Belle?”

“Oh! about half a year,” said Belle.

“Why, no,” said Maggie; “for it’s only a month since we left you in New York.”

“Is it?” said Belle. “Well, we came last Friday; and then papa brought me here to see Aunt May. We live in the hotel; but Aunt May says I must come over every day and play with you. It was so lonesome wifout you,” and Belle put an arm about the neck of each of her little playmates, looking from one to the other with loving, satisfied eyes. “You see, Bessie, I grew to love you and Maggie so much, I can’t very well stay away from you; and so I wasn’t very patient till you came.”

“Did you know we were coming?” asked Maggie.

“Yes, Aunt May told me I was so homesick for you; and papa said he brought me here so I could see you sooner. Wasn’t it good of him?”

“Yes,” said Maggie. “Now let’s go and have a good play. Aunt May gave us pails and spades to play in the sand with, Belle, and I will lend you mine.”

But there proved to be no need of this; for Belle had been furnished with a spade and pail of her own, and Daphne now appeared with them; so the little girls joined Frankie.

“What are you doing, Frankie?” asked Belle.

“Helpin’ Dod,” said Frankie.

“Why, Frankie!” said Bessie, rather shocked: “it’s not respectful for you to say you’re helping God. He can do every thing Himself, without any one to help Him.”

“Well,” said Frankie, taking up another spadeful of sea-weed and tossing it into his wagon, “maybe so; but I dess He has too much trouble to make so much waves, and keep pushing dis sea-weed up all de time; so I jest putting it a little way farder for Him,” and away he went with another wagon-load of sea-weed, which he was carting higher up the beach.

The three little girls did not know whether to laugh or not; but, presently, Maggie said, —

“I guess we need not be shocked at him. He thinks he’s doing something right, and we won’t disturb his mind about it. He’s such a funny child.”

He was a droll fellow, to be sure, that Frankie; always making odd speeches; and like Maggie in one thing, that one never knew which way his ideas would turn. Like Maggie, also, he would never allow that he could not reply to any question which might be put to him; but, if he had not the right answer, would contrive one which would fit the occasion more or less well.

He now came running up to his father, who, with the other gentlemen, had joined Colonel Rush, and exclaimed eagerly, —

“Papa, papa, tome quit. I taught a nassy lobster; let’s tate him to the house and eat him.”

This was not a very inviting proposal, certainly; but the little boy was so anxious that some one should see his “nassy lobster,” that Mr. Bradford and Mr. Stanton went with him; the little girls also running to see.

The “nassy lobster” proved to be one of those ugly shell-fish called horseshoes, which had been left there by the tide, and which Frankie had contrived to turn over on its back. He was rather disgusted with his prize, however, now that he had captured it; and, in spite of his request that it should be taken home and cooked, looked very scornfully at it, and pronounced it “degusting as any sing.”

Talking of cooking his fish had put him in mind that he was hungry, after his play in the fresh sea-air; and now, coming back and standing at his father’s knee, he said rather plaintively, —

“I wish Jesus was here.”

“Why, Frankie?” asked Mr. Bradford.

“’Tause He would dive me some fish and bread lite He did all those many people,” replied Frankie, who had lately heard the story of Christ feeding the multitude with the five loaves and two fishes. He was very fond of Bible stories, this little boy, and liked to apply them to himself and those about him.

“Tell me about that, Frankie, while Daphne goes to the house for some biscuits for you,” said the Colonel; and Frankie repeated in a droll, but still sweet and simple way, the story of the grand miracle.

“But how was it that there was enough for so many people when there was so little food, Frankie?” asked Mr. Powers, wishing to hear what the child would say.

The little fellow looked thoughtful for a moment, and stood rubbing up his hair with his hand; but he was not to be conquered even by a question hard as this, and presently, seeing a way out of his difficulty, his face lighted up as he exclaimed, —

“Betause our Lord did not dive ’em dood appetites. You ought to know dat yousef, sir;” and, with this, he ran away to meet Daphne, whom he saw coming with his wished-for biscuits.

XIII

LITTLE ACTS OF KINDNESS; LITTLE DEEDS OF LOVE

Aunt May’s invitation to come every day and play with Maggie and Bessie was never once lost sight of by Belle, who was only too glad to accept it, and be with her beloved little playmates as much as possible.

It was surprising to see how much Belle had improved during these months she had been so much with Maggie and Bessie: no, not surprising either to any one who knew how much a good example can do; at least when it shines before eyes which are willing and ready to profit by its light.

And this was so with dear little Belle. She was not naturally an obstinate or selfish child; and her faults had come chiefly from the over-indulgence of her father and Daphne, who seldom or never contradicted her, but allowed her to think that she must always have her own way. She had never been taught the duty and pleasure of yielding to others, until she was thrown so constantly with our little girls; and then the lesson came to her almost without words. She could not have better teaching than she found in the grave surprise in Bessie’s sweet eyes when she worried her father, and fretted herself for some forbidden pleasure, or when she was wilful and imperious with her devoted old nurse; or in her gentle, “You wouldn’t tease your father when you’re his little comfort: would you, Belle?” She could not but learn ready obedience, generosity, and thoughtfulness for others, when she saw them put in daily practice even by Maggie, who had so much natural heedlessness to struggle with; and, almost without knowing it, she strove to copy her little friends, and to put away the old self-will and impatience.

“Why! how obedient and good my little daughter is growing,” said her father, one day, surprised at her ready submission when he was obliged to refuse her some pleasure she had begged for.

“’Cause Bessie says mamma and Jesus will be glad when I’m good,” Belle answered, laying her cheek against her father’s; “and she said that was the best way to make you happy too, papa. She says when we love um we try to please um. Isn’t that true, papa?”

“Very true, my darling. Bessie is a dear little girl, and I am glad that you remember when she tells you what is right.”

“She does it more than she tells it, papa: that’s why I ’member so much. It makes me feel ’shamed when Maggie and Bessie see I am naughty.”

“I won’t go to Aunt May’s this morning, papa,” she said another day when her father told her to go and be made ready.

“What! stay away from your dear Maggie and Bessie?” said Mr. Powers. “How is that?”

“Daphne is sick, papa: she has such a hegget” – Belle meant headache – “she could hardly dress me this morning, and had to lie right down. If she has to get up again, I’m afraid she will be more worse, so I will stay home to-day.”

But Belle’s voice shook as she proposed this, for it was a great sacrifice for her. Six months since she would not have thought of denying herself any thing for the sake of her old nurse, and her father was both pleased and touched.

“Then papa’s unaccustomed fingers will see what they can do,” he said, unwilling that his little girl should lose her day’s pleasure; and, if Belle were not quite as neatly dressed as usual, no fault was found, and “Aunt Margaret” soon remedied all that was wrong.

But another bit of self-denial came in Belle’s way that day, and that she carried out.

Coming in with two or three bunches of fine hot-house grapes, – the first of the season, – in his hand, Colonel Rush found the children on the piazza, playing “party” with their dolls’ teacups and saucers. Two other little girls, the children of a neighbor, were playing with them. He stopped and gave Maggie a bunch to divide amongst them. They were greatly pleased with this little treat; but Maggie and Bessie were rather surprised to see Belle put hers aside on one of the doll’s plates, as if she did not intend to eat, or even play with them.

“Are you not going to play with yours?” asked Maggie, rather reproachfully.

Belle colored a little, and said with some hesitation, —