From Wealth to Poverty Part 8

She was sitting at the window one beautiful summer evening, listening to the carolling of a bird which was perched upon the bough of a tree that shaded the house, and little Mamie was playing at her feet, when Allie, who was in the parlor practising on the piano, struck up with her full-toned soprano voice:

"Darling, I am growing old Silver threads among the gold Shine upon my brow to-day; Life is pa.s.sing fast away."

"Why, my mamma, dear, oo have silver threads among the gold," said Mamie. "See dare," and she pointed to the shining silver threads that were glimmering in the sunlight amid her mother's golden hair. "I heard Eddie say to Allie that oo had."

Allie, hearing her little sister's remarks, came out and kissed her affectionately; then, sitting upon her mother's lap, she lovingly entwined her right arm round her neck, while she caressed and smoothed her hair with her left hand, and said:

"Yes, mamma, dear, there are now a great many 'silver threads among the gold,' and yet I don't think my own dear mamma is growing old at all." And then, as the white tears glistened in her dark eyes, she continued: "I hope my darling mamma's life is not pa.s.sing fast away, for Eddie was saying last night that he was sure there never was another mother so patient, loving and good as you are;" and she kissed her again and again.

Ruth returned her child's caresses and said: "I am sure, Allie darling, I am very happy to know my children love me so fondly; but if G.o.d saw fit to take me, He would care for my motherless children. He has promised to be a 'Father to the fatherless;' but tell Eliza to hasten up tea, for here comes your pa."

The conference between mother and daughter was suddenly broken up by the husband and father's return to his tea. He was in high spirits, and having brought home a beautiful gros grain silk dress as a present to Ruth, he claimed a kiss as a bounty. He said to her: "I want you to congratulate me, dear, for Mr. Gurney has been so well pleased with me that he has raised my salary; so it will be the same as what I received when in Rochester, and as our living is much cheaper here, I consider it fully equal to a hundred dollars a year more. I am sure, dear, you find the people equally as considerate and kind as you did in your other home. Do you not?"

"Yes, dear, I have every cause to be thankful." She could truly thus speak; for, with the exception of the interview with Aunt Debie, her intercourse with her neighbors had been of the most pleasing character. They could not, in fact, do otherwise than treat Ruth Ashton with considerate kindness, as her amiable disposition drew all hearts to her, and her intelligent culture caused even the comparatively ignorant to respect her; for they instinctively realized she was a lady.

"I am sure, Richard, dear," she said, "that wherever you and our children are, if we are enjoying health and comparative prosperity, I cannot but feel contented. I should be very ungrateful, indeed, if I did not do so. Have we not every reason to be thankful? We are living in this delightful home, and is it not like Mount Zion, beautiful for situation?" As she spoke she drew aside the curtain, and looked out upon the flowers and gravelled walks which, sweeping in a circle, enclosed a closely-cropped lawn, with flower-beds on either side of and bordering them, and through an opening they could see the broad river that gradually widened until it entered the bay, which was dotted here and there with white sails, and away in the dim distance they could just discern the blue waters of the wide-sweeping Ontario. And, as she opened the window the breeze came fresh from the bay, catching, as it came, the fragrance of the clover and flowers, which had an exhilarating effect upon those who inhaled its fragrance. In fact, her words were emphasized by the silent but poetic eloquence of the surroundings.

Just then Eddie came in, bringing a fine string of fish. He had been angling in a stream which flowed into the river, a little more than a mile from the town, and had succeeded in capturing some really fine trout. His father, as he looked at them, said they were "speckled beauties," and they were; for, after counting them and finding there were nineteen, the scales were brought in, when they were found to weigh ten pounds.

Eddie's eyes sparkled with triumph. He enjoyed his success all the more because his father had indulged in a little good-natured banter as he was starting away, asking him if he should send out a cart to bring home what he would catch. He now felt he could turn the laugh against his father.

But who has ever yet caught a fine string of fish without being proud of his success? Even my reader, who may have reached life's summit, and is now on the steep decline, if he ever has indulged in the "gentle art," so beautifully delineated by quaint old Izaac Walton, will, I think, acknowledge that even yet he feels somewhat elated when he is so fortunate as to bring home a nice basket of the "speckled beauties," thus manifesting to all that his hand has not lost its cunning; but his feelings are cold when compared to the joy that animates the youthful heart under similar circ.u.mstances.

Let any gentleman who may read these pages go back, in memory, to the sunny days of boyhood, when he returned home with a "fine string"--the result of a day's fishing--how enthusiastically he entered into the description of the manner in which the big ones were captured. And then, with a tinge of regret in the tones, how graphically he related the escape of some monster of the stream, which, probably, carried away the hook and part of the line. If you can remember such episodes in your life, now, alas! in the long ago--and if you cannot the author sincerely pities you--then you can have some idea of the triumph of Eddie Ashton upon the evening in question. He had fished on several occasions in the river and bay, both with rod and with trolling line, and had been moderately successful, catching some fine pike and ba.s.s--larger indeed than he had ever seen before, even in the fish-market in the city; but their capture did not animate him with pride like this day's catch. He had often read of trout-fishing, and had longed to partic.i.p.ate in its exciting pleasures, thinking how delighted he should be if he were ever so fortunate as to bring home even a few; but never in his wildest dreams did he antic.i.p.ate anything like what he had now actually realized. That night he sat down and wrote to Jim Williams, telling him of his success, and then asking him if he thought Canada was such a slow place to live in after all.

As the Ashton family gathered round the tea board in their neat cosy dining-room that beautiful summer evening they presented a picture of true happiness. They had still many things left which they had purchased in the days of their opulence. The silver tea set was shining upon the board as brightly now as it did fifteen years before. The table was spread with a snow-white cloth--one that had been brought from over the sea. The silver spoons and china tea set were also mementos of the dear old home land. The fare was simple but ample, and there was so much of kindly mirth and genial wit that each one was happy.

Richard Ashton had not lost his fine sense of humor, and he dearly loved to enjoy a joke with his wife and children, though he never indulged in witticisms that would wound the feelings of the most sensitive person; he was too much of a gentleman to thus torture others.

If a person could have been present that night, without restraining their innocent mirth, and partic.i.p.ated in the joy of that happy family, he would never have dreamed that less than one short year before there had been a dark cloud of sorrow lowering over them, shutting out all the sunlight from their view.

"Our business has been developing very rapidly lately," said Mr.

Ashton; "there has not been a period during the time in which Mr.

Gurney has been in business that the sales have equalled this month. And this is the reason, I suppose, he has raised my salary sooner than he promised. I think I have no cause to be discouraged with the result."

The dark eyes of Richard Ashton flashed pleasure as he thus spoke, and the eyes of his wife and children caught and reflected back the light.

"Pa," said Allie, "my music teacher spoke very kindly to-day, and said I had made much more advancement than any of his pupils. He also said if I only had the opportunity I would be much above mediocrity as a musician. I do wish, papa, that an opening might occur. Ella Fair has been to Toronto for a year taking lessons from one who is considered among the best teachers in Canada, and yet my teacher told me to-day that neither her touch nor her execution of difficult parts could be compared to my own."

"I am afraid," said her father, "that Mr. Stevens is praising you so much that he will make you vain. You must remember you are only a little girl as yet, and have to finish your studies at the High School. I think there is too much superficiality in the education of the young in this country, especially in the education of young girls. There seems to be a desire for what is named the accomplishments, while even the rudiments of an English education are to a great extent neglected.

"Why, the young lady of whom you were speaking bought the material for a silk dress from me to-day, and she undertook to make up the bill, but failed to do so. I am certain I should have had no difficulty in reckoning it when I was a mere child, eight years of age; and though she appeared to be so estimable young lady, her English was execrable and her slang phrases offensive to cultivated ears. I concluded if she had only been thoroughly taught in one of our common schools, she would have appeared to much better advantage.

"I hope, Allie, you will not become so entirely absorbed in your music as to neglect those primary studies, which certainly are of much greater importance. Pastry is all very well for dessert; it is, however, a very poor subst.i.tute for bread.

"But be diligent with your studies, dear, and then we will probably, some day, see if something cannot be done. If you will play a piece for me I shall be happy to listen to you after tea."

"I tay, papa," said little Mamie, "I'se going to have a foochoo,"

and she shook her head in coquettish consequence, till the curls fell over her eyes and nearly hid them from view.

"A foochoo? What is that, little sunbeam? Is it a Chinese doll, or a doggie, or what is it?"

Of course, by this time, the whole family had joined in a good-natured laugh at little Mamie's expense.

"No, no, papa, a foochoo--a pant dat will have a petty fower, I mean. Mrs. Gurney was here, and she taid she ood div me a foochoo in a petty 'ittle pot, and dat den I ood have my own fowers, and tood water and tend 'em all myself."

"Oh, it is a fuchsia that she is to give you! Well, I am sure papa is glad that his little sunbeam is to have a pretty plant to tend; and if she smiles as sweetly at it as she does at her papa, it will be a very naughty plant indeed if it does not soon have a great many beautiful flowers."

"Do you know, papa," said Mrs. Ashton, "that your little daughter has learned another hymn to sing for you, and she would like to sing it to you before you return to the store, if it will not detain you too long."

"Is that so?" said Mr. Aston. "Then, by all means, papa must hear it."

"I 'earned it from Allie," said Mamie, "and she has been teaching me this 'ong, 'ong time; but dey told me I was not to 'et papa know till I had dot it dood."

"Well, Allie," said her father, "you come and give me your piece, and then I will hear my little Mamie."

Allie sat down at the piano and played Thalberg's "Home, Sweet Home," and as she rendered it its sweet pathos went to the heart of her father, and he paid her the highest compliment possible; for when she had finished she found him with his head turned away to hide his emotion.

It had brought back the dear old home of his boyhood, and the dear ones who had made it so happy, but who had long, long ago gone to the home above; and then his thoughts came back to his present happy home, and he thought of the dear inmates who had been so true to him when he had been so untrue to himself. The piece was, in his estimation, the sweetest, the most thrilling, the most delicately and tenderly touching of anything to which he had ever listened.

"It is certainly very fine, my darling," he said, as he stooped and kissed Allie. "I never had music exercise such a power over me; it was almost painful in its thrilling ecstasy."

The fine dark eyes of Allie glowed with happiness as she listened to the commendation of her father. Praise from any other lips would be but as "sounding bra.s.s or a tinkling cymbal" when compared with his; for her love for him, under every circ.u.mstance, through evil as well as good report, was so great that she would have died for him; and his praise of her singing filled her with inexpressible joy.

"Now, little sunbeam," said Mr. Ashton, "I will hear you sing your piece. Come, Allie, and play for her, for I must soon return to the shop."

Allie again took her place at the piano and played the prelude, and then started little Mamie, who sang:

"I am so glad that my Father in heaven Tells of His love in the Book He has given.

Wonderful things in the Bible I see, But this is the dearest--that Jesus loves me.

"I am so glad that Jesus loves me-- Jesus loves me, Jesus loves me; I am so glad that Jesus loves me-- Jesus loves even me."

There was something in the singing of his little prattler which filled Richard Ashton with strange awe. As she lisped out "I am so glad," with note as clear as the carolling of a lark, the look of seraphic rapture which overspread her face evinced that she had entered into the spirit of the piece and that her little heart was glad. As he looked into the face of his wife he saw, intuitively, her thoughts were as his, and he whispered to her: "Ruth, dear, she seems too fair, too sweet, too good for earth; I am sometimes afraid that G.o.d will take her from us."

Mrs. Ashton made no reply; her heart was too full for speech. But as he looked at Allie he saw she had caught his whispered words, and--it seemed almost in unconscious harmony with her thoughts-- her fingers struck the keys and her lips warbled forth in sweetest pathos the simple but tenderly touching words:

"Strange, we never prize the music Till the sweet-voiced bird has flown!

Strange, that we should slight the violets Till the lovely flowers are gone!

Strange, that summer skies and sunshine Never seem one half so fair As when winter's snowy pinions Shake the white down in the air!

"Then scatter seeds of kindness," etc.

They each of them kissed the little one who was to them so dear.

"My little girl sang that beautifully," said her father, "but she must not sing too much; I am afraid, if she does, she will injure her voice."

"Call Eddie," he said; and Mamie ran out for him, for he had gone out immediately after supper to exhibit his catch to the son of a neighbor. Mamie met him, and told him that his father was waiting to have prayer.