John Greenleaf Whittier - "Religious Poems, Part 1., From Poems of Nature,"

G. A. Henty - "Wulf the Saxon"

William Shakespeare - "The First Part of King Henry the Sixth"

William Allen White - "The Martial Adventures of Henry and Me"

Work: A Story of Experience

L >> Louisa May Alcott >> Work: A Story of Experience




Just then the gate creaked on its hinges, a step sounded in the
porch, and little Ruth ran in to say in an audible whisper:

"It's a lady, mamma, a very pretty lady: can you see her?"

"Yes, dear, ask her in."

There was a rustle of sweeping silks through the narrow hall, a
vision of a very lovely woman in the door-way, and two daintily
gloved hands were extended as an eager voice asked: "Dearest
Christie, don't you remember Bella Carrol?"

Christie did remember, and had her in her arms directly, utterly
regardless of the imminent destruction of a marvellous hat, or the
bad effect of tears on violet ribbons. Presently they were sitting
close together, talking with April faces, and telling their stories
as women must when they meet after the lapse of years. A few letters
had passed between them, but Bella had been abroad, and Christie too
busy living her life to have much time to write about it.

"Your mother, Bella? how is she, and where?"

"Still with Augustine, and he you know is melancholy mad: very
quiet, very patient, and very kind to every one but himself. His
penances for the sins of his race would soon kill him if mother was
not there to watch over him. And her penance is never to leave him."

"Dear child, don't tell me any more; it is too sad. Talk of yourself
and Harry. Now you smile, so I'm sure all is well with him."

"Yes, thank heaven! Christie, I do believe fate means to spare us as
dear old Dr. Shirley said. I never can be gay again, but I keep as
cheerful and busy as I can, for Harry's sake, and he does the same
for mine. We shall always be together, and all in all to one
another, for we can never marry and have homes apart you know. We
have wandered over the face of the earth for several years, and now
we mean to settle down and be as happy and as useful as we can."

"That's brave! I am so glad to hear it, and so truly thankful it is
possible. But tell me, Bella, what Harry means to do? You spoke in
one of your first letters of his being hard at work studying
medicine. Is that to be his profession?"

"Yes; I don't know what made him choose it, unless it was the hope
that he might spare other families from a curse like ours, or
lighten it if it came. After Helen's death he was a changed
creature; no longer a wild boy, but a man. I told him what you said
to me, and it gave him hope. Dr. Shirley confirmed it as far as he
dared; and Hal resolved to make the most of his one chance by
interesting himself in some absorbing study, and leaving no room for
fear, no time for dangerous recollections. I was so glad, and mother
so comforted, for we both feared that sad trouble would destroy him.
He studied hard, got on splendidly, and then went abroad to finish
off. I went with him; for poor August was past hope, and mamma would
not let me help her. The doctor said it was best for me to be away,
and excellent for Hal to have me with him, to cheer him up, and keep
him steady with a little responsibility. We have been happy together
in spite of our trouble, he in his profession, and I in him; now he
is ready, so we have come home, and now the hardest part begins for
me."

"How, Bella?"

"He has his work and loves it: I have nothing after my duty to him
is done. I find I've lost my taste for the old pleasures and
pursuits, and though I have tried more sober, solid ones, there
still remains much time to hang heavy on my hands, and such an empty
place in my heart, that even Harry's love cannot fill it. I'm afraid
I shall get melancholy,--that is the beginning of the end for us,
you know."

As Bella spoke the light died out of her eyes, and they grew
despairing with the gloom of a tragic memory. Christie drew the
beautiful, pathetic face clown upon her bosom, longing to comfort,
yet feeling very powerless to lighten Bella's burden.

But Christie's little daughter did it for her. Ruth had been
standing near regarding the "pretty lady," with as much wonder and
admiration as if she thought her a fairy princess, who might vanish
before she got a good look at her. Divining with a child's quick
instinct that the princess was in trouble, Ruth flew into the porch,
caught up her latest and dearest treasure, and presented it as a
sure consolation, with such sweet good-will, that Bella could not
refuse, although it was only a fuzzy caterpillar in a little box.

"I give it to you because it is my nicest one and just ready to spin
up. Do you like pussy-pillars, and know how they do it?" asked Ruth,
emboldened by the kiss she got in return for her offering.

"Tell me all about it, darling," and Bella could not help smiling,
as the child fixed her great eyes upon her, and told her little
story with such earnestness, that she was breathless by the time she
ended.

"At first they are only grubs you know, and stay down in the earth;
then they are like this, nice and downy and humpy, when they walk;
and when it's time they spin up and go to sleep. It's all dark in
their little beds, and they don't know what may happen to 'em; but
they are not afraid 'cause God takes care of 'em. So they wait and
don't fret, and when it's right for 'em they come out splendid
butterflies, all beautiful and shining like your gown. They are
happy then, and fly away to eat honey, and live in the air, and
never be creeping worms any more."

"That's a pretty lesson for rne," said Bella softly, "I accept and
thank you for it, little teacher; I'll try to be a patient
'pussy-pillar' though it is dark, and I don't know what may happen
to me; and I'll wait hopefully till it's time to float away a happy
butterfly."

"Go and get the friend some flowers, the gayest and sweetest you can
find, Pansy," said Christie, and, as the child ran off, she added to
her friend:

"Now we must think of something pleasant for you to do. It may take
a little time, but I know we shall find your niche if we give our
minds to it."

"That's one reason why I came. I heard some friends of mine talking
about you yesterday, and they seemed to think you were equal to any
thing in the way of good works. Charity is the usual refuge for
people like me, so I wish to try it. I don't mind doing or seeing
sad or disagreeable things, if it only fills up my life and helps me
to forget."

"You will help more by giving of your abundance to those who know
how to dispense it wisely, than by trying to do it yourself, my
dear. I never advise pretty creatures like you to tuck up their silk
gowns and go down into the sloughs with alms for the poor, who don't
like it any better than you do, and so much pity and money are
wasted in sentimental charity."

"Then what shall I do?"

"If you choose you can find plenty of work in your own class; for,
if you will allow me to say it, they need help quite as much as the
paupers, though in a very different way."

"Oh, you mean I'm to be strong-minded, to cry aloud and spare not,
to denounce their iniquities, and demand their money or their
lives?"

"Now, Bella, that's personal; for I made my first speech a night or
two ago."

"I know you did, and I wish I'd heard it. I'd make mine to-night if
I could do it half as well as I'm told you did," interrupted Bella,
clapping her hands with a face full of approval.

But Christie was in earnest, and produced her new project with all
speed.

"I want you to try a little experiment for me, and if it succeeds
you shall have all the glory; I've been waiting for some one to
undertake it, and I fancy you are the woman. Not every one could
attempt it; for it needs wealth and position, beauty and
accomplishments, much tact, and more than all a heart that has not
been spoilt by the world, but taught through sorrow how to value and
use life well."

"Christie, what is it? this experiment that needs so much, and yet
which you think me capable of trying?" asked Bella, interested and
flattered by this opening.

"I want you to set a new fashion: you know you can set almost any
you choose in your own circle; for people are very like sheep, and
will follow their leader if it happens to be one they fancy. I don't
ask you to be a De Staël, and have a brilliant salon: I only want
you to provide employment and pleasure for others like yourself, who
now are dying of frivolity or ennui."

"I should love to do that if I could. Tell me how."

"Well, dear, I want you to make Harry's home as beautiful and
attractive as you can; to keep all the elegance and refinement of
former times, and to add to it a new charm by setting the fashion of
common sense. Invite all the old friends, and as many new ones as
you choose; but have it understood that they are to come as
intelligent men and women, not as pleasure-hunting beaux and belles;
give them conversation instead of gossip; less food for the body and
more for the mind; the healthy stimulus of the nobler pleasures they
can command, instead of the harmful excitements of present
dissipation. In short, show them the sort of society we need more
of, and might so easily have if those who possess the means of
culture cared for the best sort, and took pride in acquiring it. Do
you understand, Bella?"

"Yes, but it's a great undertaking, and you could do it better than
I."

"Bless you, no! I haven't a single qualification for it but the will
to have it done. I'm 'strong-minded,' a radical, and a reformer.
I've done all sorts of dreadful things to get my living, and I have
neither youth, beauty, talent, or position to back me up; so I
should only be politely ignored if I tried the experiment myself. I
don't want you to break out and announce your purpose with a
flourish; or try to reform society at large, but I do want you to
devote yourself and your advantages to quietly insinuating a better
state of things into one little circle. The very fact of your own
want, your own weariness, proves how much such a reform is needed.
There are so many fine young women longing for something to fill up
the empty places that come when the first flush of youth is over,
and the serious side of life appears; so many promising young men
learning to conceal or condemn the high ideals and the noble
purposes they started with, because they find no welcome for them.
You might help both by simply creating a purer atmosphere for them
to breathe, sunshine to foster instead of frost to nip their good
aspirations, and so, even if you planted no seed, you might
encourage a timid sprout or two that would one day be a lovely
flower or a grand tree all would admire and enjoy."

As Christie ended with the figure suggested by her favorite work,
Bella said after a thoughtful pause:

"But few of the women I know can talk about any thing but servants,
dress, and gossip. Here and there one knows something of music, art,
or literature; but the superior ones are not favorites with the
larger class of gentlemen."

"Then let the superior women cultivate the smaller class of men who
do admire intelligence as well as beauty. There are plenty of them,
and you had better introduce a few as samples, though their coats
may not be of the finest broadcloth, nor their fathers 'solid men.'
Women lead in society, and when men find that they can not only
dress with taste, but talk with sense, the lords of creation will be
glad to drop mere twaddle and converse as with their equals. Bless
my heart!" cried Christie, walking about the room as if she had
mounted her hobby, and was off for a canter, "how people can go on
in such an idiotic fashion passes my understanding. Why keep up an
endless clatter about gowns and dinners, your neighbors' affairs,
and your own aches, when there is a world full of grand questions to
settle, lovely things to see, wise things to study, and noble things
to imitate. Bella, you must try the experiment, and be the queen of
a better society than any you can reign over now."

"It looks inviting, and I will try it with you to help me. I know
Harry would like it, and I'll get him to recommend it to his
patients. If he is as successful here as elsewhere they will swallow
any dose he orders; for he knows how to manage people wonderfully
well. He prescribed a silk dress to a despondent, dowdy patient
once, telling her the electricity of silk was good for her nerves:
she obeyed, and when well dressed felt so much better that she
bestirred herself generally and recovered; but to this day she sings
the praises of Dr. Carrol's electric cure."

Bella was laughing gaily as she spoke, and so was Christie as she
replied:

"That's just what I want you to do with your patients. Dress up
their minds in their best; get them out into the air; and cure their
ills by the magnetism of more active, earnest lives."

They talked over the new plan with increasing interest; for Christie
did not mean that Bella should be one of the brilliant women who
shine for a little while, and then go out like a firework. And Bella
felt as if she had found something to do in her own sphere, a sort
of charity she was fitted for, and with it a pleasant sense of power
to give it zest.

When Letty and her mother came in, they found a much happier looking
guest than the one Christie had welcomed an hour before. Scarcely
had she introduced them when voices in the lane made all look up to
see old Hepsey and Mrs. Wilkins approaching.

"Two more of my dear friends, Bella: a fugitive slave and a
laundress. One has saved scores of her own people, and is my pet
heroine. The other has the bravest, cheeriest soul I know, and is my
private oracle."

The words were hardly out of Christie's mouth when in they came;
Hepsey's black face shining with affection, and Mrs. Wilkins as
usual running over with kind words.

"My dear creeter, the best of wishes and no end of happy birthdays.
There 's a triflin' keepsake; tuck it away, and look at it byme by.
Mis' Sterlin', I'm proper glad to see you lookin' so well. Aunt
Letty, how's that darlin' child? I ain't the pleasure of your
acquaintance, Miss, but I'm pleased to see you. The children all
sent love, likewise Lisha, whose bones is better sense I tried the
camfire and red flannel."

Then they settled down like a flock of birds of various plumage and
power of song, but all amicably disposed, and ready to peck socially
at any topic which might turn up.

Mrs. Wilkins started one by exclaiming as she "laid off" her bonnet:

"Sakes alive, there's a new picter! Ain't it beautiful?"

"Colonel Fletcher brought it this morning. A great artist painted it
for him, and he gave it to me in a way that added much to its
value," answered Christie, with both gratitude and affection in her
face; for she was a woman who could change a lover to a friend, and
keep him all her life.

It was a quaint and lovely picture of Mr. Greatheart, leading the
fugitives from the City of Destruction. A dark wood lay behind; a
wide river rolled before; Mercy and Christiana pressed close to
their faithful guide, who went down the rough and narrow path
bearing a cross-hilted sword in his right hand, and holding a
sleeping baby with the left. The sun was just rising, and a long ray
made a bright path athwart the river, turned Greatheart's dinted
armor to gold, and shone into the brave and tender face that seemed
to look beyond the sunrise.

"There's just a hint of Davy in it that is very comforting to me,"
said Mrs. Sterling, as she laid her old hands softly together, and
looked up with her devout eyes full of love.

"Dem women oughter bin black," murmured Hepsey, tearfully; for she
considered David worthy of a place with old John Brown and Colonel
Shaw.

"The child looks like Pansy, we all think," added Letty, as the
little girl brought her nosegay for Aunty to tie up prettily.

Christie said nothing, because she felt too much; and Bella was also
silent because she knew too little. But Mrs. Wilkins with her kindly
tact changed the subject before it grew painful, and asked with
sudden interest:

"When be you a goin' to hold forth agin, Christie? Jest let me know
beforehand, and I'll wear my old gloves: I tore my best ones all to
rags clappin' of you; it was so extra good."

"I don't deserve any credit for the speech, because it spoke itself,
and I couldn't help it. I had no thought of such a thing till it
came over me all at once, and I was up before I knew it. I'm truly
glad you liked it, but I shall never make another, unless you think
I'd better. You know I always ask your advice, and what is more
remarkable usually take it," said Christie, glad to consult her
oracle.

"Hadn't you better rest a little before you begin any new task, my
daughter? You have done so much these last years you must be tired,"
interrupted Mrs. Sterling, with a look of tender anxiety.

"You know I work for two, mother," answered Christie, with the
clear, sweet expression her face always wore when she spoke of
David. "I am not tired yet: I hope I never shall be, for without my
work I should fall into despair or ennui. There is so much to be
done, and it is so delightful to help do it, that I never mean to
fold my hands till they are useless. I owe all I can do, for in
labor, and the efforts and experiences that grew out of it, I have
found independence, education, happiness, and religion."

"Then, my dear, you are ready to help other folks into the same
blessed state, and it's your duty to do it!" cried Mrs. Wilkins, her
keen eyes full of sympathy and commendation as they rested on
Christie's cheerful, earnest face. "Ef the sperrit moves you to
speak, up and do it without no misgivin's. I think it was a special
leadin' that night, and I hope you'll foller, for it ain't every one
that can make folks laugh and cry with a few plain words that go
right to a body's heart and stop there real comfortable and fillin'.
I guess this is your next job, my dear, and you'd better ketch hold
and give it the right turn; for it's goin' to take time, and women
ain't stood alone for so long they'll need a sight of boostin'."

There was a general laugh at the close of Mrs. Wilkins's remarks;
but Christie answered seriously: "I accept the task, and will do my
share faithfully with words or work, as shall seem best. We all need
much preparation for the good time that is coming to us, and can get
it best by trying to know and help, love and educate one
another,--as we do here."

With an impulsive gesture Christie stretched her hands to the
friends about her, and with one accord they laid theirs on hers, a
loving league of sisters, old and young, black and white, rich and
poor, each ready to do her part to hasten the coming of the happy
end.

"Me too!" cried little Ruth, and spread her chubby hand above the
rest: a hopeful omen, seeming to promise that the coming generation
of women will not only receive but deserve their liberty, by
learning that the greatest of God's gifts to us is the privilege of
sharing His great work.

"Each ready to do her part to hasten the coming of the happy end."

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