Imagini ale paginilor
PDF
ePub
[ocr errors]

overhead struck twice. "Baggage is out," he said, "otherwise he would have struck once, and I would have waited. I must order the train out. Do you see that locomotive just ahead? Well, now, see it move." He touched a stop, and I saw the letter Z displayed at a window in a side building. "He hears a bell ring also," said the operator. The engine backed down and hitched to the empty train and the Z disappeared. "I shall now send him out," said the operator, as he touched another stop, and the empty train at once moved forward and left the station. The letters X Y Z (I may add parenthetically) designate the locomotives of the Harlem, Hudson River, and New Haven Roads, and are the signals to back down and connect with trains. "I am now about to send out a passenger train," continued the operator; a half-hour ago I struck twice to open the doors and let the passengers pass from the sitting room to the cars. Now I shall soon close that very door, but first I must stop checking baggage." A small knob was touched by his finger. "Now," said he, "the next trunk that comes must wait for another train. There (another touch with the finger), the baggage-car is hauled out and switched on to the right track. Five minutes more and she is off. Here goes the 'close the door bell' (at a touch); no one passes in after this. Now I say all aboard' " (a touch), and we hear the distant voice of the conductor echoing through the vaulted roof. "Now it moves" (another touch), and the rumbling movement was immediately perceptible, and in a few moments the train left the station. As the cars go up the road they signal their progress by ringing bells in the same office until they have got through the city streets, and thus give assurance of a clear track for all that may follow. -Correspondence of "Troy Times."

SKYE DESCRIBED BY DR. JOHNSON.-Skie is an island fifty miles long, so much indented by inlets of the sea, that there is no part of it removed from the water more more than six miles. No part that I have seen is plain; you are always climbing or descending, and every step is upon rock or mire. A walk upon ploughed ground in England is a dance upon carpets compared to the toilsome drudgery of wandering in Skie. Here are mountains which I should once have climbed, but to climb steeps is now very laborious, and to descend them dangerous; and I am now content with knowing that by scrambling up a rock I shall only see other rocks, and a wider circuit of barren desolation. Of streams we have here a sufficient number, but they murmur not upon pebbles but upon rocks. Of flowers, if Chloris herself were here, I could present her only with the bloom of heath. Of lawns and thickets he must read that would know them, for here is little sun and no shade. On the sea I look from my window, but I am not much tempted to the shore; for since I came to this island almost every breath of air has been a storm, and what is worse, a storm with all its severity but without its magnificence, for the sea is here so broken into channels that there is not a sufficient volume of water either for lofty surges or a loud roar.-Dr. Johnson's Letters, Sep. 1773.

GHENT SAVINGS BANK.-Seven years ago it occurred to M. Laurent, the Professor of Civil Law in the University of Ghent, that the only way to make a man saving was to teach him the habit as a boy. With this intent, arrangements were made by which, in all the schools in Ghent, the teacher of each class undertook to receive the savings of the children from day to day, each child, as soon as its savings amounted to one franc, receiving a livret d'épargne or savings-bank book of the State Savings Bank, which gives interest at the rate of three per cent. The result of the experiment is as follows:-In the primary schools, out of 7,989 pupils, 7,583 are depositors, and the total of their savings amounts to 274,602 fr. or £10,984, an average of £1 9s. a head. In the infant school, out of 3,039 pupils, 1,920 were depositors, and the average sum deposited is £17s. a head. In Antwerp, Bruges, and other places, a similar system has been adopted. Such results are full of meaning. Would not our School Boards add greatly to their utility if some such system were established by them in the schools under their control? It is already done with excellent results in the shoeblack brigades, and in other institutions under philanthropic and sensible management in London.

PRESERVED FRUITS AND VEGETABLES.-New York has the monopoly of all the fruits and vegetables that are grown within the limits of steam conveyance. South Carolina's best trade at this minute is the early vegetables she raises for this market. The Bermudas are in the same business; so are Florida and all the islands of the sea. It is the same with the late products of Canada. All that is not eaten or sold to other cities is canned and sold at rates so reasonable that the household table has an eternal look of midsummer. The mechanic can have his green

peas on Christmas-day in plenty for 45 cents., whereas it was thought a triumph of civilisation when the millionaire could get a handful of tasteless things which it cost him handful of gold to raise in his hot-house. This marks a sure and certain progression towards luxury; but as luxury, kept within bounds, is one of the handmaids of civilisation, this need not be deplored.

A MONSTER VINE.-A vine, situated about three miles and a half from Santa Barbara, California, has a trunk 4ft. 4in. in circumference. It begins to branch out at about six or eight feet from the ground, and is then supported on framework, which it covers as a roof. The whole vine, thus supported, now covers over an acre of ground. Several of the limbs are as much as 10in. in circumference at a distance of 25ft. or 30ft. from the trunk. The annual yield of grapes from this mammoth vine is from 10,000 to 12,000 pounds. The clusters average, when ripe, from 2 to 2 pounds each. This vine, which is about forty years old, is on rather high ground, and it is stated that the soil about it has never been manured at all. This vine, curiously enough, as in the case of Messrs. Lane's vinery at Berkhampstead, has a small stream of water running near it, which probably assists its growth.-Garden.

LONDON.-According to a return issued from the office of the Registrar-General, the estimated population of London within the tables of mortality is 3,356,073. The metropolis has an area of 122 square miles; it extends down the Thames from Fulham to Woolwich, and climbs the hills up to Hampstead on the north, and Norwood on the south side of the dividing tidal river, crossed by seventeen bridges, and partially fringed by a fine embankment. The mean elevation of the houses above Trinity high-water mark at the last determination was thirteen yards; but the elevation ranges from four yards below in Plumstead marshes to 143 yards in Hampstead above that mark. The hills are higher than the hills of Rome, the river at night, reflecting thousands of lights, eclipses the Tiber. The average daily supply of water is 514,269 metric tons, and the annual rateable value of property is £20,000,000 sterling. Last year the number of births was 121,100 in fifty-three weeks, or 2,285 weekly, and as the deaths were 76,634, or 1,446 weekly, the excess of births over deaths was 44,466, or 839 weekly. This excess comes near the estimated increase of population, so the actual agrees with the natural increase; but there is a continual outflow of people born in London, and inflow of people born in the rest of the kingdom or abroad.

AGRICULTURAL LABOURERS IN 1826.-Exaggerated statements of the wretched condition of agricultural labourers are not new, as may be seen in the following extract from Cobbett's "Rural Rides "In taking leave of this beautiful vale of Avon, I have to express my deep shame, as an Englishman, at beholding the general extreme poverty of those who cause this vale to produce such quantities of food and raiment. This is, I verily believe it, the worst-used labouring people upon the face of the earth. Dogs and hogs and horses are treated with more civility; and as to food and lodging, how gladly would the labourers change with them! This state of things can never continue many years! By some means or other there must be an end to it, and my firm belief is that the end will be dreadful. In the meanwhile I see that the common people know that they are ill-used."

ROMAN LIBRARIES.--Out of the many libraries existing in the recently-abolished Roman convents only three have been retained, with the exception of that in the Vatican, namely, the Casanatense in the Minerva, the Angelica in S. Agostina, and the Alessandrina in the Sapienza (the university buildings). The Casanatense contains 150,000 volumes, the Angelica 100,000, and the Alessandrina about 60,000. It is now proposed to choose out some 600,000 books from those in the convents now abolished, and to incorporate 100,000 volumes with the Casanatense, as many with the Angelica, and 60,000 with the Alessandrina, so that these three libraries will contain a total of 570,000 volumes. This leaves 300,000 volumes at the disposal of the commission for the liquidation of the con vent property, which proposes to hand them over to the muni cipality and form them into a public library. Here everything which especially refers to the city, such as histories of Rome, the topography, chronology, laws, and monuments of the city, the biographies and works of celebrated Romans, etc., would be collected. The musical archives of the Philippine Fathers, which contain many very valuable and as yet unpublished works by great masters, Palestrina and others, would also be incorporated with this metropolitan library, and complete an extremely rich and interesting collection of volumes.

[graphic]
[ocr errors]

LEISURE HOUR

A FAMILY JOURNAL OF INSTRUCTION AND RECREATION.

"BEHOLD IN THESE WHAT LEISURE HOURS DEMAND,-AMUSEMENT AND TRUE KNOWLEDGE HAND IN HAND." Cowper.

[graphic][merged small]
[blocks in formation]

Old Broad Street, steadying himself by the wall. How the crowd surged up and down! All was swimming before his senses. Where was he, David Waddle, and what was he to do? Since the previous evening he had undergone terrible excitement, and now all his hopes were for ever crushed. And not only so. He had lost his wife's £2,000. He would have to pay up other £2,000, and that soon. Where was he to get the money? He must sell the premises. That was not enough. Probably they must

[blocks in formation]

give up part of their hoarded £300 a year; perhaps | the Hartwell family. The likelihood is that it began one-half of it. Upon £150, without "premises,'

they could not all live. What should he do? He could not begin business again; he had not capital; he might lose the little left him. Besides, he was too old to begin. Would he get work in the tannery again? Would they employ him? And how was he to meet his wife and poor, poor Pussy? What of her trip to the south? Yet the doctor had distinctly said she must have it. Assuredly she must die. Die! Everybody would die but himself, and he might get into one of the almshouses outside Greenwood. David Waddle had not tasted food since the failure of his attempt at breakfast. He was weary and worn. For a few minutes consciousness forsook him. Then he felt himself swept along in the great stream of London. It carried him to the Bank, and across all the maze of struggling vehicles to the great lamp-post in the middle of the thoroughfare, and, after a few minutes, on to the Mansion House. Then it surged him slowly up Cheapside. His mind was almost a perfect blank. One thing alone was clearly present to his mind: he could not return to Greenwood by a day-train; he must arrive at home after it was dark. And so he started afresh on his weary wanderings. Among the thousands of human beings who met and passed him in the streets of great Babylon, there was none he knew would have spoken a kindly word or stretched a helping hand to him.

Yet there was one, as it happened, who crossed his path so near as to have almost touched his arm, But Mr. Waddle did not recognise him, and James Nicoll, thinking he "cut him" intentionally, went on his way, more bitter in spirit than before for the thought that the father of Kate had refused him even the common courtesy accorded to a passing acquaintance.

It was quite late in the evening when David Waddle reached Plum Cottage. Those who expected him were anxious about his unaccountable absence. One glance now sufficed to tell them all, or nearly so. The man had terribly aged in that one day. His form was bent, his eyes heavy, his hands trembling. They asked him no question, but gathered up what hints he dropped. They chafed his cold hands and feet, and gave him tea to warm his frame, and then, as if he had been a child, they led him away-to temporary unconsciousness, if not to rest. They understood that they were ruined, though they knew not yet the extent of the calamity. And behind it all they seemed to see the shadow of even a darker cloud creeping up the horizon. Yet, the Lord reigneth!

CHAPTER X.-UNKNOWN AGENCY.

FOUR weeks later, and Greenwood enjoyed the unusual luxury of two sensations. There was the announcement of the engagement of Emma Hartwell to the young doctor, and that of the "Unreserved sale of those very eligible and commodious premises, with walled garden, known as Plum Cottage, and presently in the occupancy of David Waddle, late tanner in Greenwood, along with the whole of the modern and elegant furniture, as also certain shares in influential companies "-all as set forth in detail by Mr. Peter Graham in large yellow placards that covered every street corner and dead wall in Greenwood.

How the rumour about Emma's engagement had first spread in Greenwood was long a moot point in

when weak Mrs. Hartwell, under the gentle admonitions of an interested friend that it was time "Emma should do for herself," had been provoked to say Emma was about to do for herself, but in another way. However the secret first got abroad, it spread with wonderful rapidity. The haberdashers even sent her printed notices, all to herself; mother got pressing invitations to tea-"Quite private; just among such old friends; and be sure you bring your sweet daughter with you."

But there was no need to make any further secret, just as there was no occasion for disguise or being ashamed of it. So Emma could enjoy the sensation. a great deal more, though in quite a different way from her numerous friends at Greenwood. In fact, Dr. John Laing was coming by express from town to fix the date of the marriage, for he was weary of the delay. That was Saturday forenoon; time of arrival in Greenwood, about two o'clock; period of stay, till Monday by the first train, when he must return to his practice. Accordingly, it behoved Emma to make the most of the limited time, and, with Rosa by her side, she went to meet the express. The youngest of the Hartwells had been made unusually elegant for the occasion.

The shortest road is not always the most desirable, and so it happened that Emma went round by Plum Cottage on her return to her own home. Then it was that the large yellow placards with which Mr. Graham had covered so many spaces for the first time attracted the attention of Dr. Laing. The double iron gate that led up the gravel walk to Plum Cottage was hung on two granite pilasters, which at one time had been the delight and the pride of David Waddle's eyes. But now the double gate was drawn to, and the pilasters were covered with Mr. Graham's yellow placards, announcing the forthcoming sale of "premises, with walled garden," "modern and elegant furniture," and "shares in influential companies."

The more effectively to instruct passers-by Mr. Graham had also caused a small slip printed on red ground to be pasted on slantways, bearing a gigantic hand whose outstretched finger pointed to the words: "Here! on Tuesday."

Dr. John Laing stopped before the pilaster and read the placard slowly and carefully from beginning to end, while Emma and Rosa tried to hide behind him, lest Kate should see them. Not for untold treasures would she have added one drop to the bitter cup her friend had to drink. She trembled lest Kate should chance to discover John and her, in all the enjoyment of their happiness, standing before the announcement of ruin and utter misery there. But certainly just then the face of John Laing bore no expression either of joy or of happiness.

The blinds were closely drawn to all the windows in Plum Cottage, just as if there had been death in the house. Yet, behind the drawn blinds, Kate had seen Emma and her lover, and was not grieved but rejoiced in their joy, and breathed an earnest prayer for their happiness.

Long after they had left she was still watching the spot where they had stood, thinking not of herself but of them. It was, indeed, marvellous what change had come over Kate. Although she had not gone south, according to the well-meant advice of the doctor, she had rapidly recovered strength and energy. Under the stimulus of trials which called her every

faculty into exercise, she had not sunk but risen. To be sure she was no longer the girlish, almost childish, Pussy of old. But she retained all her former gentleness and sweetness, while she united to them the thoughtful care and loving decision of a mature woman. Then she was happy. True, their pretty little home was swept of its easy comfort, and they would soon be driven from it altogether. But what mattered it, if the demon who had so long spread his dark wings over them were chased away? To be set free at any cost from the curse under which they had groaned was itself peace and joy. Father and mother and she were again all in all to each other on earth. Father was now a comparatively old, bent, broken-down man. But all the more that they daily dreaded the fell disease which seemed to threaten him-body and mind-did they lovingly hold and watchfully care for him. As for James Nicoll, had she not been rightly led, when she made sacrifice of her heart's affections to the higher call of filial duty? She was quite contented now that Providence so clearly showed how much he whom she had loved best would have suffered by being connected with them. And then what comfort did faith and prayer bring to the noble girl; and what confidence in thinking of the better home which no one could take from them. Assuredly the way of sorrow is not desolate when we enjoy the felt presence of Him who first trod it for us.

It was evening, and the three had gathered as of old in the well-known parlour. The furniture was curiously arranged and ticketed as in preparation for the sale. For Peter Graham, in his eager coarseness, had often that week roughly bustled out and in, to "put things in order," as he called it, heedless of the keen pain it gave to Mr. Waddle, or of the entreaties of his wife. Unannounced he would hurry in, scarcely taking off his hat, to put some needless question which went like a knife to the heart. The man had been odious in his impertinence and pertinacious in his demands. He was morally responsible to his correspondents in London for meeting the £2,000 now called up, as Mr. Nicoll had predicted, on the shares held by Mr. Waddle. How was the money to be paid? It was not his fault if people would rush into speculations when they had not sufficient capital to pay their just and lawful debts. Hints would not satisfy him, and it was only when Mrs. Waddle assured him that every farthing would be paid, and so his honour with the London firm remain intact, that he desisted from his reproaches.

Nor was this by any means all the family had to suffer. Those who had been foremost in showing cringing respect to Mr. Waddle, when in supposed prosperity, were now loudest in their denunciations. It was a shame and a disgrace for that old, conceited, bankrupt tanner to have assumed the airs he did. He ought never to have been entrusted with any one's money; he ought, in fact, to be still working in the tannery. No wonder, remarked the watchful spinsters, he did not like dear good Mr. Hartwell's sermons; how could he with such a conscience? With few exceptions, every one to whom he owed from half-a-crown upwards-and they were only too many -sent to claim immediate settlement, as they had uniformly "heavy bills to meet," and they could not become bankrupt, but meant honestly to pay each man twenty shillings in the pound. Mrs. Waddle had kept what she could from her husband's knowledge. With some she had been pleading for a little

[ocr errors]

delay, till their next quarter's income should be to hand, when she would pay all before they disposed of the capital. Others she had satisfied by converting what little trinkets were left her and her mother's watch and chain into ready money. But it was hard to sit in momentary expectancy of another ring at the bell, and an altercation in the lobby with Phebe, who would not admit importunate creditors, while they asserted in their loudest tones, so as to be heard in the parlour, that they must see Mrs. Waddle, that they could not wait, that it was too bad for honest folks to be tricked by swindlers out of what was justly their due, that Mr. Graham would see justice done them, and other delicate truths like these.

They were sitting together that evening talking in a low tone, for father seemed disposed to doze a good deal. He would walk all that afternoon in the garden, peculiarly restless, going from bush to bush to examine the gooseberries and currants, of which, unfortunately, there promised to be a specially abundant crop, and examining the roses he had planted last autumn, when the premises were first bought. And now each time he wakened it was with a start. He would rub the palms of his hands softly over the arms of his easy-chair, as if to feel it all over, or once more to touch what so lately he had called his own. Then he would similarly feel all over the table before him, or look around at the other ticketed furniture in the room, and mumble to himself, as if recounting the story of their purchase.

Only two days more to the sale--and a pound or two was all their prospective possessions, when they would leave Greenwood. True, quarter-day was close at hand, and there was no need for immediate apprehension of actual want. But whither were they to go when they moved out of Plum Cottage? They had literally not a roof under which to find shelter on Monday night, and by that time, Mr. Graham had emphatically impressed upon them. they must leave their present home. Would God provide for them? Assuredly it must be by some agency to them altogether unknown, for all their former friends had in morally-righteous indignation deserted them, and the Hartwells, who alone had been incessant in their kind attentions, were utterly unable to give them any help. But the employment of an agency altogether unknown to us: why, that is a miracle! If so, then does God still work in our own times many miracles on each day.

They had family worship, or rather Kate read portion of Scripture, for her father was too feeble to conduct prayers. That evening it happened in the regular course to be the 9th chapter of St. Mark's Gospel, which Kate read in her soft, sweet voice. Here each portion in that eventful story seemed exactly to meet their case. First, it was the disciples' natural desire, in their short-sighted weakness, to remain where they were and to "make three tabernacles" there, as if they could always have lingered in that place of joyous rest! Then it was the fierce contest of the Master himself with the evil spirits the disciples could not conquer, and which so often had threatened to destroy its victim. Such was its hold that when, even at the Lord's bidding, it came out, it "rent the man sore," and "he was as one dead," till "Jesus took him by the hand and lifted him up." Assuredly they knew it themselves that "this kind can come forth by nothing but by prayer and fasting." Then, like the still voice after tho storm and earthquake, came the blessed words of

Jesus, concerning each one of his disciples becoming like a child, concerning meekness and love, concerning the cup of water given in his name, and the reward that would follow, and lastly, concerning that merciful "cutting off" of even a cherished member, that so life itself might be preserved.

They had finished their reading, and the peaceful influence of the hallowed words had gathered around them, like cooling shadows on summer's evening. A ring at this late hour at the door. Phebe returned with a letter for Mrs. Waddle, in a strange unknown hand. Mrs. Waddle opened it, not without many misgivings, though she knew that the cravings of all more importunate creditors had been satisfied. She turned to the signature, but not knowing it, did what she might have done from the first, and began to read the letter itself. She read it twice before she handed it to Kate, who anxiously watched her mother's features, while Mr. Waddle, who had become strangely wakeful, looked nervously from one to the other. The letter ran as follows:

66

"Fir Cottage, Saturday evening.

"Dear Mrs. Waddle, 'Will you allow one who is personally a stranger to venture, not from idle curiosity, on what you may possibly deem an impertinent interference? Like your excellent husband, my dear mother and I have sorely suffered from recent losses. Thank God, enough is still left us to live. But my present object is not to intrude on you our own affairs. We have a nice little cottage just outside Greenwood, which you may possibly have seen. My mother and I occupy only the half of it, and we should be so very, very happy if you all could come out and live in the other half, till you have made other arrangements. Please do not refuse us. The place is small, but we are very lonely, and my mother would so like your daughter beside her, and I am sure Mr. Waddle and you all would be the better for the air up here and of the garden. Do not trouble to send an answer. We shall quite expect you on Monday afternoon for tea. Once more, please excuse my so introducing myself to you. I wanted to write you all this week, but could not muster courage. Mother joins in kindest regards, and I remain, Yours very respectfully,

[ocr errors]

"ELIZABETH PRINGLE."

as

Was this, then, the much-needed "cup of water," brought so unexpectedly by a poor one, who, like themselves, had been ruined by Peter Graham's speculations! A perfect stranger, too, except to Kate, who had often spoken to mother and daughter on her way to chapel, or through "the District" a visitor. God does employ, even in our days, agency altogether unknown to us. The " cup of water quenched not only present burning thirst, but proved that there was a spring at hand ever welling up. They said little to each other, except in tears, but much to God. Next day was Sunday-a quiet, peaceful Sunday of rest and gratitude at Plum Cottage.

[ocr errors]

CHAPTER XI.-PROVIDENCES.

THERE was terrible disappointment in store for Greenwood in general, and for the attendants at Zion Chapel in particular. Contrary to all lawful expediency, nay, to what one might designate as right and decency in the matter, Dr. John Laing did not appear on Sunday in the minister's pew, by

the side of Emma Hartwell. He was not even present in chapel! No wonder the female mind felt bewildered, shocked, even injured, and various surmises were indulged in. Certain it is that poor Emma Hartwell found herself the target of not a few righteously indignant looks. In the afternoon it oozed out that Dr. Laing had returned to town late on the previous evening, thus unaccountably cutting short his stay at Greenwood; that Miss Emma's eyes had borne traces of tears, and finally that the minister had accompanied his future son-inAslaw to the station. What could it all mean? suredly it was too bad, unless, indeed, there were something much worse behind it!

[ocr errors]

For the present these meagre facts afforded no clue in solving the problem in moral arithmetic, commonly designated as putting this and that together." Nothing further could be learned, not even from the closest study of ministerial allusions to sudden trials in the forenoon and evening sermons. Of course Greenwood could not know with what impatience Emma paced, all Monday, the little parlour, nor how often she pressed her face against the window panes, in the vain hope of seeing farther or down the street in the direction a messenger up might take. Yet no messenger came till quite late in the evening, and then Greenwood had, after the labours of the day, mostly given itself up to tea and general gossip.

That evening the conversation around many a table If there were few to sympathise with David Waddle, turned upon the approaching sale at Plum Cottage. yet, as the bitter end was so closely and inevitably at hand, not a few hearts grew sad at the thought of those connected with the poor man. Mrs. Waddle but what would become of that fragile, fair girl of was true and brave, and accustomed to privations; theirs? Well was it that Kate had never carelessly or unconsciously called forth the sting of envy or the reproach of hatred. Had it been possible, many a of need. The world is alike more heartless and more home would now have given her shelter in the hour who have the treasure of love, then Kate Waddle kind than we give it credit for. If those are rich had never possessed so much as on the eve of their being cast forth homeless wanderers upon the world.

Yet it was a dreary, miserable day, the Monday which preceded the sale. The letter which had so unexpectedly offered them not only a temporary home, but, far better than that, carried to their hearts evidence of the watchfulness and loving care of our Father in heaven, had, indeed, left them in trustfulness and peace. But still it was terrible to have to give it all up, to be cast forth, to see all their cherished flowers, so to speak, torn up petal by petal, by rough hands. They all loved the dear old cottage and every bit of the furniture in it, and never before so much. Kate had risen very early in the morning, and wandered from room to room, and then through the garden, to be confronted on her return by the swollen eyes and passionate entreaties of Phebe, who would never leave them, and "take no wages." Poor Mrs. Waddle felt nervous and restless, and wished the sacrifice was over, and Plum Cottage for ever behind them. Yet the while she dreaded most when the hour for leaving would come.

Inside the house there was more bustle even than before. What with men coming and going, lifting and carrying furniture, and Graham's directions, it felt in that darkened house as if the family were all to be

« ÎnapoiContinuă »