Jessie Carlton Part 23

Uncle Morris then went on to show Jessie, that really good people were kind to the poor and wretched, because it is their duty to be so; that they seldom found their reward, either in the grat.i.tude of those they helped, or in the smiles of men; that instead of finding such rewards, they were often blamed and treated harshly by the public, and ungratefully by their _proteges_; but that they had a rich reward, nevertheless. They felt, he said, a very sweet satisfaction in themselves; they were smiled upon by the Father and Saviour of men; and they would, in the better land, be more than rewarded with mansions, robes, crowns, and honors, which selfish people would forever envy but never enjoy.

This talk with her uncle did Jessie good. She afterwards bore Madge's outbreaks of temper with more patience, and tried to set her such an example as would make her feel her own faults far more than by scolding or fretting.

Madge, who was very quick-witted, saw and felt the change in Jessie, and she, too, tried to overcome herself, that she might not grieve a friend, who loved her so truly and so well.

One morning Jessie awoke, and was surprised to see the lawn, the trees, and the fences all white with snow. It was a beautiful sight. She had never seen snow in the country before. Having dressed herself, she ran down-stairs, and going to the piazza, clapped her hands, and cried:

"Oh, how pretty those evergreens look! That pine-tree is perfectly beautiful!"

"Ah, Jessie, is that you?" said Guy, as he came round the winding path, plunging through the soft snow with his thick boots, and dragging his sled after him.

"Yes, I'm here," replied Jessie. "But where have _you_ been with your sled before breakfast?"

"Been coasting, to be sure. There's a capital place in the lane that runs past Carrie Sherwood's cottage. We couldn't do much this morning but tread down the snow; but after breakfast, it will be fine. Will you go with me then, Jessie?"

"I should like to, ever so much, but--"

"But what?"

"Well, I must work all the morning. That's my rule, you know. I'll go with you in the afternoon, Guy."

"I don't want to tempt you to neglect a duty," replied Guy, knocking the snow off his boots against the step of the piazza, as he spoke, "but really, I'm afraid the coasting won't be worth the heel of an old shoe, by the afternoon. You see, the sun is very bright, and the snow isn't apt to stay long, so early in the season."

"I'm sorry," said Jessie, looking very downcast, "but I must give it up, I guess. You see, I've finished uncle's slippers, and have almost done his watch-pocket. I want to finish it ever so much before Thanksgiving, which is to-morrow, you know."

"That's right, stick to it, Sister Jessie! I won't train in the little wizard's company, so I advise you to lose this coasting treat, if the snow does go, and thereby gain a victory for which Corporal Try would promote you if he knew it."

With these words, Guy kissed his sister, placed his sled in the back-hall, and went to the breakfast-room, to which he was shortly followed by Jessie.

At breakfast, the boys discussed the question of the weather, and the snow very earnestly. They wanted the snow to last, first, that they might enjoy the sport of coasting, and then, that they might have a sleigh ride.

"How I should like a sleigh-ride," exclaimed Jessie, with brightening eyes.

"Guess you won't have it just yet," said Hugh. "The sun will melt the snow from the roads before noon, I guess, and its too light and loose for good sleighing this morning."

"I'm sorry, for I do want to coast, and to ride in a sleigh, so much--ever so much," said Jessie, sighing, and looking very sober--for her.

"Can't you _coast_ this morning, with the boys?" inquired Mr. Carlton.

"We don't want her," said Hugh, snappishly. "Girls are always in the way when coasting is going on."

"Ill-natured as ever, I see, Master Hugh," observed Uncle Morris.

"I want her," said Guy, "and will take her this afternoon, if the snow don't melt."

Jessie looked at her brother with eyes that seemed to say, "What a dear, good brother you are!" Mr. Carlton asked:

"But why not take her this _morning_, Guy, before the snow melts?"

"Because she thinks it is not best to go, Sir," replied Guy.

"Ah! ah! Not best to go, eh? What's going on at home this morning, Jessie?" asked Mr. Carlton, looking at his daughter, whose face was now red with blushes.

"Because Corporal Try won't let her," replied Guy, laughing and coming to her help. "He has given her a task which he wishes done before Thanksgiving, and she means to do it, too, in spite of the little wizard, who sits perched on my sled, in yonder hall, and saying, 'Come, let's have a good time together, this morning.'"

"Bravo! If this was the proper place, I would propose three cheers for Jessie Carlton, and her friend the Corporal," said Uncle Morris. Then turning to Mrs. Carlton, he added, "By the way, sister, do you know that I expect to hear of a wedding before long?"

"Indeed! Who are going to be married now?"

"No less a personage than that pesky little dwarf, who has given my little puss so much trouble. I learn that he has popped the question to Miss Perseverance, and if nothing happens, they will soon be joined in wedlock, by Parson Good-Resolution."

Of course this quaint way of praising Jessie for her self-denial and self-conquest caused a good hearty laugh all round the table. Jessie's cheeks bloomed like roses, and her heart went pit-a-pat with joy-beats. A happier breakfast party could scarcely have been found that morning in or out of Duncanville.

To increase the flow of Jessie's delight, shortly after she had taken her seat in her own pretty little chair, her uncle entered the parlor with merriment in his eyes, and said:

"Sew away, my little puss. The north wind is on your side, and in spite of the bright sun will keep the snow from melting, so that you may coast after dinner with Guy and your friend Carrie, and take a sleigh-ride, too, at three o'clock with a funny old gentleman named Morris. What do you say to that my puss, eh?"

"I'm _so_ glad, I don't know what to say, Uncle. But, see here! (and Jessie held up a purple velvet watch-bag, ornamented with steel beads.) I shall have it all done by twelve o'clock!"

"If the little wizard don't hinder," suggested her uncle, laughing and looking roguishly at her.

"Well, he won't," said Jessie, shaking her head. "He is too busy courting Miss Perseverance to trouble his head about me. Ha! ha!"

Mr. Morris laughed heartily at Jessie's ready use of his quaint fancy about the little wizard. He had no doubt about her firmness. But shaking his finger at her he said, "Take care! the little wizard is a cunning fellow, and knows how to ensnare little misses who have tasks to perform,"

and left the room.

Strong in purpose, and cheered by the hope of the afternoon's pleasure, Jessie worked with such vigor on her watch-pocket, that she had put on the last bead, sewed the last st.i.tch, and trimmed off the last loose thread before the clock struck twelve. Then she felt happier far than any child ever did in the enjoyment of pleasures gained by the neglect of duty. She had conquered a difficulty, had won a victory, had done a duty--had she not a right to be happy?

I could almost wish myself a child again for the sake of tasting that fresh, perfect, unmixed delight which welled up from Jessie's heart on the afternoon of that clear December day. First came the play of coasting.

Taking her on his sled--"The Never-say-die"--Guy drew her to the lane near Mr. Sherwood's cottage and amused her until the merry sleigh-bells caused her to turn round. Then she saw a splendid sleigh drawn by two n.o.ble horses, and driven by a man who, from the way he handled the whip and reins, seemed born to be a coachman. Her mother and Uncle Morris were in the sleigh. She stepped in. Carrie and Guy followed. Having wrapped themselves up well in the buffalo robes, word was given to the driver, and away they dashed down the road.

[Ill.u.s.tration: Walter Sliding With Carrie and Jessie. Page 227.]

Merrily jingled the dancing bells, swiftly trotted the lively horses, smoothly glided the steel-shod sleigh over the snowy pathway, pa.s.sing houses, barns, and fields, as Guy said, with the speed almost of a steam-engine. On they went, mile after mile, drinking in health and spirits from the pure winter air and tasting that real enjoyment which is found in innocent pleasures only. No wicked amus.e.m.e.nt ever did or ever can yield such delight as Jessie and her friends tasted on that sleigh ride.

It was quite dark when they reached home again. They were a little chilled with their ride, but the glowing fire which burned so cheerfully in the parlor grate, soon restored them to warmth and comfort. The tea-table was made cheerful by Jessie's account of the sports and pleasures of the afternoon.

After tea Jessie took Guy into the kitchen, and taking the watch-pocket from beneath her ap.r.o.n, said--

"Guy, I want you to go with me into Uncle Morris's chamber, and help me fix a hook to hang this watch-pocket on. I want to give uncle a surprise."

Guy gave his consent. Going to the nail-box he selected a small bra.s.s hook, with a screw at the end, and a gimlet. Then taking a light, he went up-stairs with his sister. Jessie pointed to the spot, over his bed, which she thought the best place for the hook. Guy bored the hole, screwed in the hook, and hung the pocket by its loop of braid upon it. Jessie clapped her hands, and said--

"Isn't it pretty! Won't Uncle Morris be pleased! My _quilt_ covers his bed. The _slippers_ I made him are under his chair, and now my _watch-pocket_ hangs over his bedstead. I'll get his chair-cushion done next, and then I guess he will allow that I'm fit to be an officer in your Try Company. Ha! Ha! Ha!"

CHAPTER XV.