• TABLE OF CONTENTS
HIDE
 Back Cover
 Frontispiece
 Half Title
 Title Page
 Copyright
 Front Matter
 Table of Contents
 List of Illustrations
 Main






Group Title: Cousin Cicely's Silver Lake stories ; 3
Title: The green satchel
CITATION THUMBNAILS PAGE TURNER PAGE IMAGE ZOOMABLE
Full Citation
STANDARD VIEW MARC VIEW
Permanent Link: http://ufdc.ufl.edu/UF00002213/00001
 Material Information
Title: The green satchel a collection of pieces in prose and rhyme, for the Silver Lake stories
Series Title: Cousin Cicely's Silver Lake stories
Alternate Title: Silver Lake stories
Green satchel
Physical Description: 158 p. : ill. ; 15 cm.
Language: English
Creator: Bradford, Sarah H ( Sarah Hopkins ), b. 1818
Smith, Thomas B., 19th cent ( Stereotyper )
Howland, William ( Engraver )
Alden and Beardsley ( Publisher )
Wanzer, Beardsley & Co ( Publisher )
Publisher: Alden, Beardsley & Co.
Wanzer, Beardsley & Co.
Place of Publication: Auburn <N.Y.>
Rochester <N.Y.>
Manufacturer: Stereotyped by Thomas B. Smith
Publication Date: 1852
 Subjects
Subject: Children's stories   ( lcsh )
Christian life -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Stepmothers -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Orphans -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Courage -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Children's stories -- 1852   ( lcsh )
Pictorial cloth bindings (Binding) -- 1852   ( rbbin )
Bookplates (Provenance) -- 1852   ( rbprov )
Bldn -- 1852
Genre: Children's stories   ( lcsh )
Pictorial cloth bindings (Binding)   ( rbbin )
Bookplates (Provenance)   ( rbprov )
Spatial Coverage: United States -- New York -- Auburn
United States -- New York -- Rochester
United States -- New York -- New York
 Notes
Statement of Responsibility: by Cousin Cicely.
General Note: Added t.p.: Cousin Cicely's Silver Lake stories; with vignette.
General Note: Some ills. engraved by Howland.
Funding: Brittle Books Program
 Record Information
Bibliographic ID: UF00002213
Volume ID: VID00001
Source Institution: University of Florida
Rights Management: All rights reserved by the source institution and holding location.
Resource Identifier: aleph - 002222574
oclc - 38525921
notis - ALG2820
 Related Items
Other version: Alternate version (PALMM)
PALMM Version

Table of Contents
    Back Cover
        Front page i
        Front page ii
        Front page iv
        Page 160
        Page 161
        Page 162
    Frontispiece
        Front page v
    Half Title
        Front page viii
        Front page ix
    Title Page
        Front page x
    Copyright
        Front page xi
    Front Matter
        Front page xii
        Front page xiii
    Table of Contents
        Front page xiv
    List of Illustrations
        Front page xv
    Main
        Page 11
        Page 12
        Page 13
        Page 14
        Page 15
        Page 16
        Page 17
        Page 18
        Page 19
        Page 20
        Page 21
        Page 22
        Page 23
        Page 24
        Page 25
        Page 26
        Page 27
        Page 28
        Page 29
        Page 30
        Page 31
        Page 32
        Page 33
        Page 34
        Page 35
        Page 36
        Page 37
        Page 38
        Page 39
        Page 40
        Page 41
        Page 42
        Page 43
        Page 44
        Page 45
        Page 46
        Page 47
        Page 48
        Page 49
        Page 50
        Page 51
        Page 52
        Page 53
        Page 54
        Page 55
        Page 56
        Page 57
        Page 58
        Page 59
        Page 60
        Page 61
        Page 62
        Page 63
        Page 64
        Page 65
        Page 66
        Page 67
        Page 68
        Page 69
        Page 70
        Page 71
        Page 72
        Page 73
        Page 74
        Page 75
        Page 76
        Page 77
        Page 78
        Page 79
        Page 80
        Page 81
        Page 82
        Page 83
        Page 84
        Page 85
        Page 86
        Page 87
        Page 88
        Page 89
        Page 90
        Page 91
        Page 92
        Page 93
        Page 94
        Page 95
        Page 96
        Page 97
        Page 98
        Page 99
        Page 100
        Page 101
        Page 102
        Page 103
        Page 104
        Page 105
        Page 106
        Page 107
        Page 108
        Page 109
        Page 110
        Page 111
        Page 112
        Page 113
        Page 114
        Page 115
        Page 116
        Page 117
        Page 118
        Page 119
        Page 120
        Page 121
        Page 122
        Page 123
        Page 124
        Page 125
        Page 126
        Page 127
        Page 128
        Page 129
        Page 130
        Page 131
        Page 132
        Page 133
        Page 134
        Page 135
        Page 136
        Page 137
        Page 138
        Page 139
        Page 140
        Page 141
        Page 142
        Page 143
        Page 144
        Page 145
        Page 146
        Page 147
        Page 148
        Page 149
        Page 150
        Page 151
        Page 152
        Page 153
        Page 154
        Page 155
        Page 156
        Page 157
        Page 158
        Page 159
Full Text

























46r
















L~t'JL~Bbf';.a. 4~




.4 OME






'1Jr)
i.'


The Baldwin Library
University
of
Florida


S-
OL S

IIiL&


I II __ ( IL~


I '


1


I




'r ~ h.:V% -t
a~: I

ol



c"%,:X

~/c~Lc: ~/~dc-~-'


-cc~L "




-1 -

I










- -- ---



















Ir










































)~




r~ ~


9: ,

I:.
ri











' .*










"









u


- Mul AIs am BOAT.


i4 6.


4j











SILVER LAKE STORIES.
















* AUBURN:
ALDEN, BEARDBLEY & CO.




fI,


*1-






THE GREEN SATCHEL;

A COLLECTION OF PIECES


IN PROSE AND RHYME,

FOR THE





W~iftb Ilustrations.



BY COUSIN CICELY.
&UTHOR OF "THE CORNBUOOPIA,p ZTO.




AUBURN:
ALDEN, BEARDSLEY & 00.
*ROCHESTER:
WANZER, BEARDSLEY & CO.
1862.





















Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1852, by
ALDEN BEARDSLEY & CO.
In the Clerk's Office t.f the Northern District of New York.

















8TZREOTYPED BY
THOMAS B. SMTTH,
216 William St., N. Y.











I WAS sitting by my window one day, when who should
drive up to the door but Aunt Patty Pry. I was not at
all surprised to see her, for Aunt Patty is forever visit-
ing about among her friends and relations. She had now
come but to make a short visit, however; in her hand
she held an old Green Satchel. "What have you there,
Aunt Patty?" I asked. "Papers, child, papers," said
she; you know I was always fond of scribbling, and
fond of visiting, too; and among all my travels and visits,
I have seen and heard a great many interesting things;
and in my lonely hours at home, I have written them out.
There are rhymes among them, too, which I have picked
up here and there; I intended some day to put them into
print, but I am getting too old to take that trouble now,
and if you have a mind to take them and put them to-
gether," &c. &c. &c. In short, Aunt Patty and I made
an arrangement satisfactory to both parties, by which I
was to introduce the stories to the young folks, who will
find in the present volume a small number of the pieces
which I found in the old Green Satchel."












THE SILVER LAKE STORIES,

COMPRISING THE FOLLOWING VOLUMES.

I.-THE JUMBLE.
I.-THE OLD PORTFOLIO.
III.-THE GREEN SATCHEL.
IV.-TIE CORNUCOPIA.
V.-AUNT PATTY'S MIRROR.

VI.-THE BUDGET.

















Coulnuts.

Pap

THE STEP-MOTHER, 11
FANNY'S SILVER CUP, 85
THE GIPSY BOY, 40
POOR JEANNIE'S PET, 77
MARY'S WIS, 80
THE LONG HILL, 83
TIE IIUMMING-BIRD AND X TH BUTTERFLY, 108
THE LOTTERY TICKET, 112
MY FIRST SCHOOL-MISTRESS, 115
THE ORGAN BOY, 127
THE LITTLE COWARDS, g1
TE INDIANS, 147






















FREDDY AND HIS BOAT .
THE STEP-MOTHER,
THE BLIND GRANDFATHER,
THE YOUNG MUSICIA, .
THE GIPSY CAMP,


Page
S Frontispiece.

26
. 41
61
. 67


POOR JEANNIE'S PET, 78
THE SHIP, 81
STARTING FOR THE HILL, 83

THE SPHINX AND PYRAMIDS, 85
THE APOLOGY, 105
THE HUMMING-BIRD, 109
THE BUTTERFLY, 110


Iist nf Sllcstratinus.














S OOD morning, my sweet little
girls, but pray, tell me, what
has happened to make you both
look so grave and sad to-day ?"
"Aunty, we are going to have a
step-mother I"
"Well, and one would think by your
solemn despairing looks, that the sum
of all earthly troubles was comprised
in the word 'step-mother.'"





THE SILVER LAKE STORIES.


Step-mothers are not kind, are they,
Aunty ?"
"That is a question which cannot
be answered in so general a way, my
dear. There have been unkind step-
mothers, I admit, but then there have
been unkind fathers arid mothers too;
and cross uncles and aunts. Old Mrs.
Steele is very cruel to her poor little
niece Maggy, but would you say that
all aunts are cruel and unkind ?"
"Oh no, aunty, dear aunty you are
always good and kind."
"Well, dear children, it is no more
right for you to say that step-mothers
are always unkind, than it is to say





THE SILVER LAKE STORIES.


that aunts are. I see that some one
has been putting wrong notions into
your heads. Let me tellyou that I have
heard the young lady whom your father
is to marry, spoken of by all who know
her as being exceedingly lovely and
amiable, and I do hope that you will
both receive her kindly, and treat her
affectionately. I dare say she feels
very diffident at the thought of enter-
ing a family of entire strangers, and
I shall be much disappointed iq my lit-
tle girls, if they do not give her a kind
and cordial greeting. All this recalls
to me my own early days, and though
it is with shame and grief that I review


13





THE SILVER LAKE STORIES.


my conduct, yet if it will be a lesson
to you, dear children, I ought not to
withhold the recital.
"My mother died when I was about
eight years old, leaving three children,
myself, my brother Fred, who was then
six years old, and my little sister Alice,
who was four. We loved her very
dearly, and felt wretched and desolate
enough when we were left'with only
Jane in the house, for our father was
obliged to be away fiom home much of
the time. Jane had lived with my moth-
er ever since she was married, and had
always been a good servant; but after
my mother's death, Jane of course was





THE SILVER LAKE STORIES.


housekeeper, and as we were so young,
she always sat at the table with us,
and she soon began to feel her own
importance. She took great airs upon
herself, and scolded us and the other
servants a good deal; but still, when
our father was away, we had no one
else to cling to, and we all clung to
Jane; and she did as she chose with
us, and the house, and all in it.
"Well, about two years after my
mother's death, I remember one day
when Jane was particularly cross and
snappish; nothing seemed to go right
with her; she scolded harder than
ever, and stamped round about her


15





THE SILVER LAKE STORIES.


work, making exclamations like these:
' Fine times we shall have, to be sure!
Grand doings! I suppose those who
have served and slaved will be turned
off, now!' At last, on her giving me a
very snappish answer, I said, 'Why
Jane, how cross you are to-day!'
"'Cross, am I?' said she; 'I guess,
before long, you will find that there's
some one crosser than me!'
"'Who will that be, I should like to
know ?' said I.
"'Well, if you'd like to know, I will
tell you,' said Jane; it's a step-mother I'
"'A step-mother, Jane are we going
to have a step-mother?'





THE SiL R LAKE STORIES. 17
"Yes, idKeed, you are, and I should
think ~yur father might have told you,
Mist"Cornelia l"
/"I won't have a step-mother," said
Freddy;. "I'll kick her !"
At this, Jane looked more pleased
than she had done all day, whidc en-
couraged my sister Alice and myself to
say what we thought would gratify
her. So we each gave vent to our dis-
pleasure and indignation at the idea
of a step-mother, till we had fretted
Jane into quite a good humor, and
ourselves into a state of real dread of
the arrival of a step-moitbr,




18 THE SILVER LAKE STORIES

"'Do you know who this lady is to
be, Jane ?'
"'No, indeed, I know nothing about
her,' said Jane. 'Some youxg high-
flyer, I suppose; they always give
themselves great airs. I had a step-
mother once myself, and a pretty life
she led me, to be sure!'
"And in this way Jane talked to us
every day, entertaining us with stories
of the cruelty of step-mothers, till we
really thought that the greatest calam-
ity which could happen to a family
would be the entrance of such a being
into it.
At length, I received a letter from





THE SILVER LAKE STORIES.


my father, in which he told me that in
the course of two or three days, he
would come home, and bring with him
a new mother for us. He added that
he hoped we would all love her very
much, and that Jane would have every-
thing in order for the reception of her
new mistress.
"'Mistress, indeed!' said Jane; 'mis*
tress, indeed! This is the beginning
of it, and'-
"'Mother, indeed !' cried I; 'you will
not find me calling her mother, I can
tell you; and Fred, and Alice, never
let me hear you say the word !' Next
to Jane, my younger brother and sis-


19




20 THE SILVER LAKE STORIES.
ter looked up to me, and were gener-
ally ready to do as I bade them. From
this time we all awaited in dread and
anxiety the arrival of the new 'mis-
tress' and 'mother,' growing every day
more and more dissatisfied with the
anticipated change.
"The day came at last, and a car-
riage drove up to the door, from which
my father and a lady alighted. Jane
received them at the door, but, though
respectful, she was very cold and state-
ly. In a few moments, we children
were summoned down to the parlor,
and we went with beating hearts and
wicked, feelings, to meet the. stca ge.





THE- SILVER LAKE STORIES;

I had so fully made up my mind that
she would be disagreeable in her ap-
pearance, and would speak in loud
harsh tones, that I was somewhat dis-
appointed when I saw the gentle and
lovely-looking young lady, whom my
father introduced to us as our new
mother; and when she stooped down
and kissed us, and said she hoped we
should love each other very much, I
verily believe that had it not been for
the sake of consistency, I should have
thrown my arms round her neck, and
given her a hearty welcome to her new
home.
"But Fred and, Alice were stading





THE SILVER LAKE STORIES.


by, and Jane stood in the hall watch-
ing us, and so I steeled my heart against
that gentle being, and received her ad-
vances with the utmost coldness and
indifference, and my brother and sister
followed my example. I saw a look
of pain and disappointment come over
her beautiful face, but I had declared
that I would not like her, and it would
not do for me to give up at once. As
soon as we left the room, Jane was
anxious to know what we thought of
the step-mother, and to counteract any
agreeable impression she might have
made upon us.
"'Oh, Jane,' said my sweet little sis-


22





THE SILVER LAKE STORIES.


ter Alice, 'she is not like the step-
mothers you have told us about, she
seems so kind and lovely.'
"' Yes, yes,' said Jane,' and so was
my step-mother very kind and lovely
for the first week-or two, but she soon
showed out what she was!' and Jane
shook her head, as if she could tell a
dreadful tale of cruelty, if she only had
a mind to.
"I can scarcely think even now
without tears of the cold and cruel
treatment this gentle being received
from us, whom she would so gladly
have taken to her heart, or of the inso-
lent manner of Jane to her during my


23





I24 'THIS SiLVIeR 'LATE WOMS.
father's absence. I know that it caused
'her many sad hours, for often when We
came upon her unexpectedly, we found
her in tears.
"My father had brought her from a
large and lovely family, where she was
'the youngest and the darling; and she
-had come to us with her heart yearn-
ing for affection and love, and had been
repulsed by us all, and treated with
insolence even by the servants, to
whom she was uniformly gentle "and
kind; and yet, as I afterwards diso'v-
ered, she never mentioned one word of
this to my father, but endured it all
"with the utmost patience and gentle-





urne 'HamB B 5^4RE I TQUr$lS.


ness, hoping that in time our prejudices
would all die away, and had it:not been
for Jane they would have done so.
"The .first one who -sow~dl any
symptoms .of going over to ~ar new
mother, was my little sisterJAiae,-who,
to my great surprise, I one i~yyjound
sitting on her lap, with her 4ite arm
thrown around 'her ivek, il~tening
eagerly -to a history; but she jumped
down so quickly -*whn -he -saw me,
and with such a frightened air, that I
.knew my-step-mother must;understad
the influence I exerted over theminds
of my little brother and sister. She
,wver. tried to .ay, .urowe wo itW i aan-





THE SILVER LAKE STORIES.


dies or presents, but seemed deter-
mined to win us by gentleness and
kindness, if at all.
After our step-mother had been with


26





THE SILVER LAKEr STORIES.


us about six months, we were attacked,
one after the other, with scarlet fever,
which was at that time very prevalent
and very fatal in the place where we
lived. Fred and I, after a long and
tedious sickness, recovered, but our
dear little Alice died. And in thak
time of sickness and distress, did that
kind and gentle nurse watch over us
night and day, never allowing herself
proper rest or exercise, till the neces-
sity for exertion was past, but patient-
ly sitting in our darkened rooms, and
ministering to our wants.
"I was very ill, and part of the time
delirious, and yet, through it all, I was


2





Pzi ~St~ Itr~e r~?OP11T~3~.


conscious of a light graceful form ever
round my bed, and a soft hand pressed
upon my burning brow, or holding the
-cooling drink to my parched and fever-
'ish lips. If I moved, or spoke at night,
'she was always at hand, and spoke.to
%.me in soothing, gentle tones, so differ-
ent from Jane's; and when anything
:was to be done for me, I could not help
:contrasting her delicate fingers with
Jane's coarse, rough hand. Sometimes,
when I was restless at night, I would
.hear a lovely strain of soft sweet music,
so low that it seemed as if it was far
away; but I would soon find that the.
'sounds:came from the lips of :one'who





w're TTLtrm mtm amrttS.


gat watching beside me. Oh, no heart
but one of stone, could have held out
against such unwearying kindness, and
mine at last was completely conquered.
"I well remember the day, when, as
I was lying on my bed, weak and ex-
hausted, and watching the lovely form
near me, that I said to her softly,
'Mother, will you come and kiss me ?'
She looked up astonished and pleased,
for it was the first time I had ever
called her by that name; and as she
stooped to kiss me, a warm tear of joy
fell on my cheek. I asked her then to
call my father, and Alice, and 1Fed.
AIMs! my dear little sister had 'ten


.9





THE SILVER LAKE STORIES.


been buried two days, and they had
not dared to tell me she was dead.
"But my father and brother came,
and then I told my father the whole
story of our conduct to our gentle step-
mother, and how Jane had encouraged
us and led us on. I shall never forget
my father's surprise and indignation,
or how he stooped over and kissed our
mother's brow, as he said, How could
you treat her so? and she has been
wearing out her very life in nursing you!'
"I need hardly say that Jane was
immediately dismissed, and we were
all astonished to find what a relief it
was to us, when we were at length


30





THE SILVER LAKE STORIES.


freed from her presence. My grief was
very great when the news was first
broken to me, that my dear little Alice
was no more; and for a long time I
was very sad; but the kind and sooth-
ing attentions of my mother calmed
my feelings, and, indeed, from that
time, she was mother, and sister, and
all to me.
"How well I remember the beautiful
walks we used to take with her in the
summer time. When Jane had taken
us out to walk, she had hurried us
along, as if it was a business that must
be got through with; but when our
kind mother took Fred and myself out


31





THB SILVER LAKE STORIES.


for a ramble, we would stroll through
the woods, gathering wild flowers, or
she would pause upon the bridge at
Fred's earnest request, to see him sail
his little boat in the stream, and then
she would tell us such beautiful stories
as we walked along. Oh, no one could
tell such beautiful stories as my step-
mother! We ever continued to live
with her on terms of the warmest affec-
tion and confidence, and I think, dear
children, you will bear me witness,
that it is still my aim to minister to
her happiness, and, if possible, to atone
to her for the sorrow I caused her in
early life."






THE' SILVER LAKE STORIES.


"Why, was it grandmammal" ex-
claimed the little girls.
Certainly it was grandmamma."
Oh, I always thought she. was our
own grandmamma; and was. Freddy
our papa ?"
"Yes, love, and I do not wonder
that you never knew that she was not
your own grandmother, for your father
has always treated her with so much
affection and respect, and now that
he is going to bring home a new
mamma to you, I hope and trust that
you will receive her with the love
which she will expect from you, and
of which I know she is worthy."


33i





34 THE SILVER LAKE STORIES.

"Oh, we will, aunty, we will!" ex-
claimed both of the little girls; "we
will love her, and call her mother,
and we will try to forget that she is
only our step-mother."
















A PARODY.

MY silver cup, my silver cup, I've dropped it in
the well,
And what to say to grandmamma I'm sure can-
not tell;
For when she gave it me she said, "Take care of
it, my daughter,"
And now, alas, far down it lies beneath the cold
blue water.
Twas on my seventh birthday, that dear grand-
ma gave it me,
And when she hears I've lost it, oh, how sorry
she will be I







36 THE SILVER LAKE STORIES.

My silver cup! my silver cup! so beautiful and
bright,
From which the good sweet milk I drank at morn-
ing and at night;
My name and age were on it, and there too was
grandma's name,
To tell whene'er I looked at it from whom the
present came;
And when she comes and hears that I have
dropped it in the well,
Oh, what to say to grandmamma I cannot, can-
not tell.


My silver cup I my silver cup 1 oh, grandmamma
will say
I should have a cup of pewter, or a brittle one of
clay;
That I seized it carelessly, and flew to the well
to take a drink,







THE SILVER LAKE STORIES. 37

Or heedlessly I left it on the well curb's narrow
brink;
That I cared not for her present when I dropped
it in the well,
And what to say to grandmamma, I'm sure I can-
not tell.


She'll say I am so heedless, a careless, careless
child,
That nice things should not be given one so
thoughtless and so wild;
That I was pleased a moment with the present
which she sent,
But cared for it no longer when to the well I
went.
My silver cup I my silver cup! oh, what a deep,
deep well!
And what to say to grandmamma, I cannot, can-
not tell.





88 THE SILVER LAKE STORIES.

I'll tell the truth to grandma, and I hope she will
believe,
For I'm sure she's never known me to wilfully
deceive;
That as Norah made the silver bright upon the
bench to-day,
There came up to the garden gate an aged man
and gray;
He seemed so worn and tired, and so sadly he
did moan,
I thought he would have fainted there upon the
garden stone.


And when he saw me there, he gasped, Make
haste, my little daughter,
And give a poor old fainting man a cup of clear
cold water."
I seized the first thing in my way, and hurried to
the well,
'p







THE SILVER LAKE STORIES. 39

But I could not reach the bucket, and in my haste
it fell;
I'll tell it all to grandmamma, and then she will
not chide,
She'd rather lose ten silver cups, than that old
man had died.














ST was a chilly, rainy, disagreeable
day in early spring, when the stage
coach stopped at the door of my
lodgings. I had sent for the coach the
evening before, to call for me next
morning, to convey me to the house
of a friend, about twenty miles in the
country.
I was not half ready when the stage
called for me, for Biddy had mistaken










































THE BLIND GRANDFATHNEL





THE SILVER LAKE STORIES.


the hour of its starting, and I was not
expecting it for an hour or more yet.
But I bustled about, and with Biddy's
assistance, was ready in an incredibly
short space of time, as it seemed to
me, but by the frequent and impatient
blasts of the driver's horn, I concluded
that he had quite different' ideas on the
subject.
At last I was ready, or so nearly so,
that I had only to return three times,
and send Biddy (who accompanied me
to the gate), back twice, for some for-
gotten article, so that I thought it was
quite unreasonable in the passengers
to cast upon a little woman such sour


42






THE SILVER LAKE STORIES.


and discontented looks, and quite un-
civil of them to make the remarks they
did about the delay.
"Well, driver, I hope we are really
off, now!" said an impatient young
gentleman.
No, not quite yet," said the driver;
"I've got to drive round to the orphan
asylum, and take up a child."
At this, the expressions of discon-
tent grew louder and more frequent,
but stage drivers are, or rather were
(for they are among the byegones in
our part of the country), less affected
by the opinions or wishes of those in
whom they ought to be particularly


43





THE SILVER LAKE STORIES.


interested, than any other class of men
I know.
"Well," said an old woman, with a
long sharp nose, and a long sharp chin,
and two little bright black eyes, "well,
I think I might as well git eout, and go
hum again, there don't seem to be no
likelihood of starting. "
"Hush, sonny, hush! dont'ee fret. I
suppose we have only got to stand
another half-hour in the cold!" said a
rosy-cheeked young woman, talking to
her baby, but casting a spiteful glance
at me.
I began to feel pretty restless and
uncomfortable under the glances of in-


44





THE SILVER LAKE STORIES.


dignation which were levelled at me
from all parts of the coach, but when
I felt the chilly raw north wind, and
thought how much longer my fellow-
passengers had been exposed to it
than I was probably aware, I felt that
some apology was due to them. So I
said, "I am really quite distressed at
having kept you all waiting so long,
but the girl whom I sent for the coach
brought me word that it was to start
at nine o'clock."
"Eight is always the hour," said the
impatient young gentleman.
"Folks should always be ready at
least an hour before the time I" said a


45





46 THE SILVER LAKE STORIES.

crusty old gentleman in the corner of
the back seat; "I always am."
Happening to have some candy in
my pocket, I put a piece into the hand
of the rosy-cheeked young woman's
baby, which so pleased the mother
that she said, "'Twant no great matter,
after all, if we could only once get fair-
ly started."
The old lady with the sharp nose
and chin was somewhat softened too,
by my humble apology, for turning to
me, and fixing her black piercing eyes
upon me, as if she would read me
through, she said, quickly, "Going
fur ?"






THE SILVER LAKE STORIES.


"No," said I, "only about twenty
miles into the country."
"You're going down to Stanfield,
then, likely ?"
"My friend lives a mile or two from
the village."
"Know Mr. Stark's folks ?"
"I think not, ma'am."
"That's odd," said the old lady, taking
a pinch of snuff, and then using an old
red silk pocket handkerchief. "He's a
tailor out there; the best tailor there
is in Stanfield; he's very well to do in
the world; he's my sister's son; the
only blood relation I've got this side


47






THE SILVER LAKE STORIES.


of Illinois; I've got lots of nieces and
nephews out there."
The old lady's communications were
put an end to by the stopping of the
stage at the door of the orphan asylum;
and almost as soon as it stopped, the
door opened, and one of the teachers
appeared, leading by the hand a little
girl about eight years of age. The
child had on a pink sun bonnet, and
a very shabby coat, but she looked
very neat and clean. Her little box
was put on top of the stage, and the
stage driver was about to lift her
in, when the crusty old gentleman ex-
claimed, "Don't put the child in here;


48






THE SILVER LAKE STORIES.


we're full enough already in all con-
science."
"Put her up on the driver's seat,"
said the impatient young gentleman;
"put her up, quick, and for mercy's
sake let us be off!"
But there were women in the stage
coach as well as men, and we all made
our voices heard, insisting that the lit-
tle girl should riot ride outside, in the
wind and the rain, and by ditit of a lit-
tle squeezing, we made room for her
between the sharp-nosed old lady and
myself; then, with a loud bang, the
door was fastened, the driver mounted
4


49





THE SILVER LAKE STORIES.


into his seat, cracked his whip and we
were fairly on our way.
The old lady in the corner soon
dropped asleep, the young rosy-cheeked
woman entertained her baby, and the
men talked together; so that the little
orphan asylum girl and myself were left
unnoticed by the rest of the passengers.
For a time, I said nothing to her,
but every time I turned that way, I
found her full bright blue eyes raised
to my face, with a look of gratitude
and interest, as if she wished to enter
into conversation.
At length, I said to her, "What is
your name, my dear ?"


50






THE SILVER LAKE STORIES.


"Maggy, mom," she answered.
And where are you going ?"
"I don't know, mom, I'm directed."
"You are directed; what do you
mean by that?"
"Why, I mean it's on my box, where
I am going."
Are you going to visit friends ?"
Oh, no, mom, she's no friend at all;
I never see her before day before yes-
terday, when she come to the 'sylum,
and she said she liked my looks, and
she would take me, and they was to
send me down by the coach."
"How long have you been in the
asylum ?"


51





THE SILVER LAKE STORIES.


Oh, ever since grandfather fell down
through the trap-door, and got killed;
it was before last winter."
"Did you live all alone with your
grandfather ?"
"Yes, mom; you see, first mother
died; no, first father died, and then
me, and mother, and grandfather lived
together; and then mother was so
kind of wore out with taking care of
father so many nights when he was
crazy, and saw awful sights, that she
took sick and died too, and then me
and grandfather was left all alone.
Grandfather was a very cross old gen-
tleman; oh, very cross, indeed! I didn't


52





THE SILVER LAKE STORIES.


have a very pleasant time with him.
Well, you see, he would walk out, and
I used to have to go to lead him."
"Why was that?"
Why didn't I tell you he was blind ?
Oh yes, mom, blind as a bat, and he
was deaf, too, a little, but not so deaf
as he pretended to be sometimes.
Well, one day I was leading him along,
and there came a great crowd of people,
and I got pushed away from him, and
when I was running to catch up to
him, what should I see but grandfather
making right for a trap-door in the side-
walk, which was open. Oh, how I
screamed 'Grandfather! grandfather '


53





THE SILVER LAKE STORIES.


but he wouldn't stop. I was pretty
sure he heard me, too, and just as I
got to him, and seized hold of his coat,
he walked right off down the hole, and
almost pulled me down after him. Oh,
how frightened I was! and how I
screamed. I felt bad, too, for you know
I hadn't anybody but grandfather."
"And was he dead when they took
him up?"
"No, mom, but he died that night,
and he never spoke, only once he said,
'Maggy, you hussy you!' Then, after
grandfather died, some ladies came and
said I must go to the 'sylum, and they
took me there, and the ladies has been


54






THE SILVER LAKE STORIES.


very good to me. But now I have got
to go to this other lady; I wish it was
you I was going to live with. I didn't
like her looks; her eyes, you know I"
The longer I conversed with little
Maggy, the more I became interested
in her; she seemed a very bright, intel-
ligent child, and I thought, with proper
training, might make a-very fine woman.
When the stage stopped for Maggy to
get out, I was sorry to find that she
was going to live with Mrs. Caswell, of
whom, as she was a neighbor of my
friends, I had heard enough to make
me feel satisfied that she would not
make a very kind or patient mistress.





THE SILVER LAKE STORIES.


As soon as I found that Mrs. Caswell
was the lady she was to live with, I
recollected what Maggy had said, "her
eyes, you know I had seen Mrs.
Caswell, and I never looked at her
eyes without thinking how they would
glare if she was angry. She certainly
had an awful pair of eyes, and I did
not wonder that poor little Maggy's
heart failed her when she thought of
them.
This was the last I saw of little
Maggy till about two years since, when
I paid her a visit in her own house, and
heard from her own lips her history
from the time she left me in the stage


56





THE SILVER LAKE STORIES.


coach. She found Mrs. Caswell to be
a cold, haughty, disagreeable woman;
and Miss Augusta, her daughter, a
young lady of about fourteen years of
age, in all respects precisely like her
mother. Mr. Caswell was a good easy
soul, who never attempted to interfere
with any of his wife's arrangements, or
even with any of his own, when she was
present; so that, though really a very
kind-hearted man, he never dared to
say a kind word to Maggy.
But old Diana, the cook, was very
good to her, for Diana had a little girl
of her own, of about Maggy's age, whom
she had not seen for two or three years.


57





THE SILVER LAKE STORIES.


Diana was separated from her husband
on account of his intemperance, and he
would not allow her to see or hear from
her child. This was the great grief of
Diana's life; and this, too, was the
reason of her kindness to Maggy; for
she seemed to have an idea that as she
treated this little orphan stranger, so
she might expect her own child to be
treated, by those among whom her lot
was cast.
Matthew, the coachman, too, seemed
to take a liking to the child; and in
compliance with her earnest entreaties,
he taught her to read and write when
he could find or make time. But it is


58





THE SILVER LAKE STORIES.


not with those in the house that my
story has much to do, and as I shall
make it too long if I do not take care,
I must hurry on to tell of an acquaint-
ance Maggy made one day, when she
was feeding the chickens.
From the side of Mr. Caswell's house,
which was very large and handsome,
ran a long range of low stone build-
ings, which were occupied as kitchen,
wash house, and smoke house; at the
back of the last of these was the chick-
en house, and to this Maggy was sent
every morning by Diana, with the
scraps left from breakfast. One morn-
ing, as she was feeding the chickens,


59





THE SILVER LAKE STORIES.


she was surprised by hearing the sound
of some low sweet music very near her.
She looked around the corner of the
building, and was surprised to see a
boy about a year or two older than
herself, leaning against the stone wall
of the building, and playing upon some
instrument, such as Maggy had never
seen before. Maggy looked and lis-
tened for some moments in silence,
when the boy, perceiving her, took
the instrument upon which he was
playing from his mouth, and asked
her if she would give him a piece of
bread.
"I don't know as I may," said Mag-
-L


60






































THE YOUNG MUSICIAN.





62 THE SILVER LAKE STORIES.

gy, "but wait here, and I will run and
ask Diana."
Running hastily into the kitchen,
she called out, "Diana, there is a poor
boy out here, and oh! he does play so
beautiful and he wants to know if he
may have a piece of bread ?"
"Yes, yes," said Diana, "if he's poor,
give him a piece of bread whenever he
wants it; the chickens won't miss it,
'cause they've got plenty; and Mrs.
Caswell won't miss it; and she ought
to be thankful if she don't give nothing
to the poor herself, that there's some-
body to do it for her; I wish she could
come in for a share of the credit."





THE SILVER LAKE STORIES.


"But, Diana, perhaps it isn't right
for me to give away any of the bits,
without Mrs. Caswell allows me."
"Well, I know her well enough to
know she won't allow you, for she
never gives nothing to the poor, 'cause
she says it encourages them to come
hanging round the house."
Maggy ran out again, and found
the poor boy standing where she left
him, and though not perfectly satisfied
that she was doing right (for Maggy had
been well instructed by her mother),
she gave the poor boy one of the
chickens' crusts. He ate it as if he
was very hungry, and while Maggy


68





THE SILVER LAKE STORIES.


went on feeding the chickens, she
asked him,
Where do you live ?"
"I live down with the gipsys in the
marsh," answered the boy.
"Is your mother there ?"
"I belong to Granny Greer, but she
is not my mother."
"The gipsys who bring their baskets
and mats here are all very dark, but
you are whiter than I am, and what
beautiful light curling hair you have;
it is not like the gipsys," said Maggy.
"Oh, I think I do not belong to any
of the gipsys," said the boy, "I think
they stole me a great many years ago;


64





THE SILVER LAKE STORIES.


I can remember a beautiful lady, who
used to lay me in a little bed, and kiss
me, and when she walked about the
room, her dress shone and rustled, not
like Granny Greer's, or any of the
women down at the camp."
"Silk, likely," put in Maggy.
"And then in the evenings she used
to sit down before something that made
beautiful music, a great deal prettier
than my pipe, and a great many lit-
tle children used to dance around the
room and I among them."
"Piano, likely," said Maggy, "and
them was your brothers and sisters,
and that lady was your mother. And
5


65






THE SILVER LAKE STORIES.


don't you remember nothing about
when they took you off ?"
"No, nothing, only one morning I
woke up, and I was in the gipsy camp,
and the dark faces of the gipsys were
all around me."
"Carried you off when you was
asleep, likely," said Maggy. "Are they
kind to you?"
"No, nobody but Granny Greer."
"Well, they ain't very kind to me
here, nobody but Diana and Matthew,"
said Maggy.
A call from the house now summoned
Maggy, who hastened to obey it, but
not till she had told the poor boy to
1


66










\ I\ .J


a
yt '






THE SILVER LAKE STORIES.


come every nyrning, and she would
give him a of bread; but she did
not tell him that she should spare it
to him from her own breakfast, because
she feared he would not be willing to
take it. Every morning, then, as soon
as Maggy heard the sound of the poor
boy's pipe, she hastened out with the
bread which she had saved from her
own breakfast. One morning -she said
to him,
"What is your name? you never
told me."
"They call me Tom down at the
camp," said the boy, "but I think the
beautiful lady used to call me Arthur."


68





THE SILVER LAKE STORIES.


"And who taught you to play so
beautifully ?"
"Oh, a man who joined us once
taught me, and when he left us, he
gave me this pipe, and when we go
through cities, the gipsys make me
play to get money for them."
As soon as he got his piece of bread
that morning, he said he must hasten
back, for Granny Greer was very sick.
The next day he did not come at the
usual time, but in the afternoon Maggy
heard the sound of the pipe, playing a
very sad and plaintive air. As soon
as she could find a moment's time, she
hastened out to the end of the stone


69






THE SILVER LAKE STORIES.


building, and there she found the poor
boy; he was sitting on a stone crying,
and beside him lay a bundle.
When he saw Maggy he said, "I
shall never come to you for bread any
more; Granny Greer is dead. Before
she died, she told me all about my
being stolen away, and she gave me
this bundle of little clothes, and told
me where I was to go, far off to the
east, to find my parents."
The boy here opened the bundle, and
showed Maggy a suit of child's clothing.
It was a merino dress beautifully em-
broidered, with ruffles over the sleeves
of the finest cambric and lace; all the


70





THE SILVER LAKE STORIES.


little under clothes, and the beautiful
little shoes and stockings were there,
too.
"And how did she take you off?"
asked Maggy.
"She said she was passing my fa-
ther's garden, and looking over the wall,
she saw a child on a garden bench
asleep. She climbed over and stole
me, thinking that if a great reward
was offered, she would take me back,
and pretend she had found me; but
she said she grew fond of me, and
could not bear to part with me, and so
she kept me on till now. But she said
I must hurry, or they would catch me


71






THE SILVER LAKE STORIES.


again, as I bring them some little
money by my playing." The boy then
bid Maggy good-bye, and thanked her
for her kindness to him; and he said
if ever he found his home, he should
not forget her.
Time passed on; year after year
passed away, and Maggy still lived
with the Caswells, as she was bound
by agreement to do till she was eight-
een years of age. But when Maggy
was eighteen, she had learned a great
deal, through Matthew's assistance, and
by her own diligence in reading and
studying, for which she took all her


172





THE SILVER LAKE STORIES.


spare time, and deprived herself of
many hours of sleep.
About this time, as she was at work
one day in the kitchen, she heard a
familiar strain of music; hastily setting
down the dish which she was wiping,
she turned pale, and said, "That must
be the gipsy boy who went away eight
years ago." She did not say this to
Diana, for Diana had gone away, and
there had been a dozen cooks since
her time; but she rushed out to the
end of the stone building, and was sur-
prised to see a young gentleman sit-
ting there, playing on the gipsy boy's
pipe.


73





THE SILVER LAKE STORIES.


"Is this you, Maggy ?" said he.
"To be sure it is," she answered;
"but only to think that this should be
you !"
He then told her that lie succeeded
in finding his father and mother, and
by means of the clothing convinced
them that lie was their child; he told
her of their joy and delight at his
being restored to them; and of the hap-
piness of his brothers and sisters. He
had never forgotten Maggy's kindness
to him, and as he supposed she would
now be about eighteen years old, he
had come to say to her that it was now
in his power to place her at school,





THE SILVER LAKE STORIES.


and give her the education she had
been so anxious to receive. You may
be sure Maggy did not remain at Mrs.
Caswell's many days after her eight-
eenth birthday; as soon as possible
she entered a boarding-school, where
she made such rapid progress that she
soon ranked as high as any scholar in
the school.
Now I suppose you have all said,
"Oh, I know how this story is going to
turn out; the young man educates
Maggy, and then marries her." I am
very sorry to be obliged to disappoint
you, but truth compels me to say, that
he never thought of such a thing; he


75





76 THE SILVER LAKE STORIES.

very soon married a young lady who
was his equal in all respects; and
Maggy married in time, too, a very re-
spectable man, and it was in her own
neat little cottage that 1 saw her, and
heard from her the story of her life at
Mrs. Caswell's.



















OH, chide not poor Jeannie, nor say she is weak,
When you see the large tears rolling down from
her cheek;
Say not she is silly, nor deem her absurd,
To sorrow so much for the loss of a bird.


Little Jeannie is lame, and her parents are poor,
And she has no fine birds hanging out at the
door;
No pet but this poor little snow-bird had she,
Who came every day chirping his chick-a-dee-dee.






78


THE SILVER LAKE STORIES.


POOR JEANNIE'S PET.


Little Jeannie like you cannot run out and play,
Nor ramble about on a bright sunny day;
But all day she sits still in that low rocking
chair,
And cheerfully hums to herself a low air.






TIE SILVER LAKE STORIES.


79


But when for his breakfast this dear little bird
Came down every day, and his chirping was
heard,
With one arm round her sister, she limped from
her chair,
And stood at the window and fed the bird there.

But to-day as she fed her dear snow-bird so tame,
A rude boy who passed with his arrow took aim,
And shot Jeannie's pet as it sat by her side,
And it fell at her feet in a moment and died.

And now 'tis no wonder, dear children, I say,
That poor little Jeannie is crying to-day;
For I think it would make any one of us sad,
To see dead at our feet all the pet that we had.















HEN Mary was a little girl, she
was always wishing that she
could go to England. Every
day she would say, Oh, I wish a little
breeze would come and blow me over
to England, and when I had seen all I
wanted to, another little breeze would
come and blow me back home again."
Poor Mary! when she was still quite
young, she married a British officer,





THE SILVER LAKE STORIES. 81

and the breeze blew her over to Eng-
land, but it never blew her back
again, for she died, and was buried
there.















ECEMBER had come, and as yet there
had been very little snow. The
boys said it was "a mean winter;
no snow, no ice, ne sliding down hill,
no skating; it was too bad !" This was
the way the boys talked.
But one Saturday morning, Mr. and
Mrs. Playford were awakened very
early, by shouts and screams of delight,
and pretty soon the boys came leaping






THE SILVER LAKE STORIES.


STARTING FOR THE HILL.
STARTING FOR THE HILL.


and tumbling down stairs, crying,
"Hurrah! hurrah! snow! snow! snowI"
Their cousin Howard was with them
again; and on went caps, and mittens,
and tippets, and out rushed the boys,


83





THE SILVER LAKE STORIES.


and soon they were rolling and tum-
bling, and wading through the deep
snow, and throwing snow-balls at each
other, and at length all set to work to
prepare the hill which ran to the foot
of the garden, for sliding. Finding,
however, that the snow was coming
down so fast, as to fill up their paths
almost as soon as they were shovelled
out, they gave up this .attempt for the
present, and began to roll up huge
balls of snow, of which to make a snow
man.
Before long other boys from the
neighborhood joined them, and soon,
in different parts of Mr. Playford's ex-


84






THE SILVER LAKE STORIES.


THE SPHINX AND PYRAMIDS.


tensive grounds, might be seen in the
process of erection, snow imitations of
the pyramids of Egypt, the sphinx, and
the Colossus of Rhodes.
When called in to prayers and


85






THE SILVER LAKE STORIES.


breakfast, the boys went round through
the kitchen hall, to shake and stamp
off the snow, and soon they all ap-
peared in the breakfast room, breathing
hard, and rubbing their hands, their
faces glowing with the cold and exercise.
It looked as if there would be enough
snow now, for down, down came the
large flakes, steadily falling all day;
the boughs of the trees were all white,
and bending under the weight of snow;
the paths were all filled up, so that
there was no sign of road or path to be
seen; no sleighs passed the house, for
the roads were not yet broken; occa-
sionally a foot passenger was seen who


86






THE SILVER LAKE STORIES.


was driven out by necessity, plunging
along through the snow-drifts, nearly
up to his arms in snow.
Sunday morning came, and the snow
was deeper than ever. The churches
were all closed, for no one could get
out to attend them. The Playford chil-
dren were quietly seated at their read-
ing, or Bible lessons, when, to their
surprise, they saw their father making
ready to go out. Still more were they
amazed when they saw him take a
large snow shovel in his hand, and
oostart across the fields; and they whis-
pered to each other, "I guess father's
forgotten that this is Sunday."


87






THE SILVER LAKE STORIES.
9


Their mother soon entered the room
with little Belle, to whom she had been
teaching a hymn, and the children
called out,
"Mamma, where has papa gone this
morning ?"
"He has gone across to old David
Anderson's cottage," answered Mrs.
Playford. "We have been fearing,"
she continued, "that the old people
were completely snowed under, as we
see no smoke rising from their chim-
ney, and you know old David is laid
up with the rheumatism." ,
"WIN did papa take the snow
shovel ?"


88





THE SILVER LAKE STORIES.


"He took it to open paths for old Mrs.
Anderson to get to her well and wood-
house."
"Mamma, is it right to do work like
that on Sunday?"
* "It is what is called a work of mer-
cy, my son, and works of mercy and
necessity we are allowed to do on the
Sabbath day. Do you think it w*
be right to leave those two very poor
old people to suffer throughout this
day, without any wood to keep them
warm, or any chance to get to their
well?"
"No, mamma, I think that would
not be right," answered Clarence, "but


89





THE SILVER LAKE STORIES.


I had never before seen papa prepare
to work on Sunday, and I wanted to
know on what principle he did it."
"He did it on the same principle on
which our blessed Saviour healed the
man on the Sabbath who had a with-
ered arm. You remember that the
Pharisees, glad to find an opportunity
to accuse him, asked him, 'Is it lawful
to heal on the Sabbath day ?' How did
be answer them, Kitty ?"
"'He said unto them, What man
shall there be among you that shall
have one sheep, and if it fall into a pit
on the Sabbath day, will he not lay
hold on it, and lift it out ?


90






THE SILVER LAKE STORIES.


"' How much, then, is a man better
than a sheep! Wherefore it is lawful
to do well on the Sabbath days.' "
"Yes, you see that they were not
condemned by the Saviour for assisting
even a suffering animal on the SalO
bath day, and of course it is right to
assist a suffering human being."
"I remember," saidTMrs. Playford,
"when I was quite a little girl, living
in the large city of A- that one
Sunday mor, Ia notice was read in
all the churches, informing the congre-
gations that a man, supposed to be
crazy, had wandered off, taking with
him his three little children. They had


91





THE SILVER LAKE STORIES.


already been gone a day and night, and
fears were entertained that they were
lost, or something worse had happened
to them. On consulting together, the
different clergymen of the city had
agreed to close their churches, and the
citizens were requested to meet at a
certain spot, to organize, or form into
parties, to go off in different directions,
and seek for the missing family.
"I very well remember what a strange
sort of melancholy excitement there
was about the whole affair; how, all
the afternoon, as I sat by the window,.
parties of men were passing, with their
thick walking-sticks in their hands;


92






THE SILVER LAKE STORIES.


and towards evening how they came
back, looking so tired with their long
walk; and how eagerly the different
parties were questioned, as to whether
they.had seen or heard anything of the
missing ones."
"And did they find them, mamma ?"
asked Kitty.
"No, dear, not that day. Several
of the parties heard of them, as they
stopped at different farm-houses, but
their efforts to come up with them
were unsuccessful. I think, however,
that in the course of that week the4
were found, and the children were re-
stored to their mother.





THE SILVER LAKE STORIES.


"No one doubted that it was right
for a whole city to turn out on the Sab-
bath day, to look for a man and three
little children; it was a work of mercy."
By this time Mr. Playford returned.
He said he was very glad that he had
gone. He found old Mrs. Anderson
quite sick in bed, and the old man
helpless, as usual; he was wrapped in
his cloak, and shivering with the cold;
and there was not a spark of fire, and
they had had nothing to eat that day.
"And what did you do for them,
papa?" asked the children eagerly.
"Oh, in the first place, I shovelled
out paths, and brought them in some


94






THE SILVER LAKE STORIES.


wood and water, and then, by the aid
of some matches, I made up a good fire,
and put on the tea-kettle, and now I
have come back to see if mamma can
put up something nice for them to eat,
in a little pail, and I will make my
way back, and then I will try my hand
at making a cup of tea for the old
people."
"I wish I could go with you," said
Mrs. Plavford.
"You, dear? why it would be utter-
ly impossible for you even to cross our
own yard. I was nearly exhausted
myself before I reached old Anderson's
cottage."


95




University of Florida Home Page
© 2004 - 2010 University of Florida George A. Smathers Libraries.
All rights reserved.

Acceptable Use, Copyright, and Disclaimer Statement
Last updated October 10, 2010 - - mvs