Part 3 (1/2)
A STORY FOR LITTLE EMMA.
In the shade of a leafy b.u.t.ter-nut tree, a rosy cheeked little girl sat looking up at the blue sky, with many curious thoughts running through her head. A friend came and sat down beside her, and to make the time pa.s.s pleasantly, told the following little story:
Once upon a time, a cl.u.s.ter of boys and girls gathered under this tree, for the sake of enjoying the beauty around them, whilst they studied and worked in the warm suns.h.i.+ne.
Just in the midst, a visitor approached, and to their great delight Peter Parley stood before them. They could scarcely believe their eyes, for they imagined him an old man, but right glad were they to listen to his pleasant talk.
He told them of many things he had seen in foreign lands, of his love for good children, and of his pleasure in serving such a happy, busy group. He also reminded them of the great Fisher Ames, who had lived on that very spot, and was the friend of the immortal Was.h.i.+ngton.
He particularly impressed upon the minds of the boys, the importance of forming correct habits in early life; and said if they had the right spirit, they too might become great and good men.
Just before he left, he showed them a new book which he had been preparing for their improvement, and which he hoped they would read for his sake. They all promised they would; and before he said good-by he shook hands with each one, they all begging him to come and see them again.
After that memorable visit, many were the pleasant readings from the ”Cabinet Library,” and often was Peter Parley remembered by the inhabitants of the ”Bird's Nest.”
A STORY TOLD UNDER THE GREAT ELM TREE.
Well, patience young folks; don't all besiege me at once, and I will tell you about my own school-days. As the day is so warm and bright, I will make the scene at the South, among the thick pine woods of Georgia.
I can distinctly recollect the singular features of the spot where I was sent to school, but it will be impossible to bring it to your mind's eye. There were about half a dozen log houses, and an Academy standing in the midst, like the Court-House there in the square; and being a neat wooden house of two stories, we thought it very grand.
The little church was about a mile off, all by itself in the woods; but why it was placed at such a distance, we never could tell, unless it was to give people a pleasant walk on Sunday morning.
The preacher was the school-master of the place, and, as I remember, was a very pleasant man, besides being a most excellent teacher. I remember the day I was first ushered into the school-room, filled with strange faces, when the master, patting me upon the head, said, ”Here is a little stranger, and I hope you will do all you can to keep her from being home-sick.”
The kind admonition had its effect, and before the day was past, their warm hospitality made me feel as if among brothers and sisters.
Many were the pleasures of my sojourn in Springfield, and among them, the excursions after wild flowers and birds were not the least frequent.
Once I caught a great Gopher, or Land Turtle, sleeping under a tree, and brought him home in triumph. This creature has a tawny-colored sh.e.l.l on his back, and underneath is a yellow one, ending in a square shaped protuberance like a spade, and with this he digs his burrow or den. In these sand holes I often played, turning them into a baby house, with the pine cones for my numerous family of dolls.
Sometimes the master went off with us, to show us the process of making pitch and tar, the dusky figures of the blacks tending the operation looking like so many imps. We often came across the huge coach-whip snake, so named from its resemblance to a whip-lash, and the hoop-snake, only found, I believe, in those regions, and of which the negroes are very much afraid. The flocks of wild pigeons which break the trees by their weight, were objects of unceasing delight, and for weeks we were feasted upon their delicate meat.
But my flower garden was my greatest pride, surrounded with a little crooked fence, looking just like a row of herring-bone st.i.tch, and the soil as black as ink. I can now see the bright blue spider-wort, the sweet-williams, the pinks, the ladies'-delight, and the cl.u.s.tering roses, making the homely log cabin most beautiful in my sight.
The house, of one story, was built of logs, and with a chimney outside.
The c.h.i.n.ks between the logs were filled up with clay, which in case of the heavy rains so prevalent there, was not the least protection against the storm; so we were frequently liable to an inundation.
The Crackers, a most ignorant and degraded cla.s.s of poor people, used to pa.s.s through the woods on their way to market, where they carried things to sell. Their language is very uncouth, and their complexion very sallow, the effects of chills and fevers, and as some say from eating the yellow clay off the chimneys. Their bonnets were made of white cloth, and the tops of their wagons were of the same pattern, and are something like the covering of a butcher's cart here, but much lower and smaller. My old nurse, a free black woman, took good care of me, feeding me with sweet potatoes, rice, and hominy, and, as a great treat, with ground-nuts, which she parched to perfection. When I was sick, she hung a charm around my neck, firmly believing it performed the cure.
The scholars were a merry, lively set, and in the winter evenings had a ”Speaking Club,” which I was allowed to attend, as a reward for conquering the mysteries of Long Division, and the spelling of such words as ”Phthysic,” ”Catsup,” &c. To me the rough blanket curtain concealed the most glorious scenes, and as I saw the performance of ”Rolla and Pizarro,” and listened to the musical cadences of Scott, or ”The death of Absalom,” by Willis, I felt wrapt in an Elysium.
But now, girls, recess is over, and I will stop my description, or I shall run the risk of seeming egotistical.