started out under his fingers. Surely he had a right to something in addition to his limited salary, and this innocent, unsuspected entertainment helped to make up the balance for his many labours. His sister was one of the best-hearted and most unsuspicious of the class of female idolaters, and worshipped her brother with the most undoubting faith and devotion-wholly ignorant of the constant amusement she gave him by a thousand little feminine peculiarities, which struck him with a continual sense of oddity. It was infinitely diverting to him to see the solemnity of her interest in his shirts and stockings, and Sunday clothes, and to listen to the subtile distinctions which she would draw between best and secondbest, and every day; to receive her somewhat prolix admonition how he was to demean himself in respect of the wearing of each one; for Miss Emily Sewell was a gentlewoman, and held rigidly to various traditions of gentility which had been handed down in the Sewell family, and which afforded her brother too much quiet amusement to be disturbed. He would not have overthrown one of her quiddities for the world; it would be taking away a part of his capital in existence. Miss Emily was a trim, genteel little person, with dancing black eyes, and cheeks which had the roses of youth well dried into them. It was easy to see that she had been quite pretty in her days; and her neat figure, her brisk little vivacious ways, her unceasing good nature and kindness of heart, still made her an object both of admiration and interest in the parish. She was great upon drying herbs and preparing recipes; upon knitting and sewing, and cutting and contriving; upon saving every possible snip and chip either of food or clothing; and no less liberal was she in bestowing advice and aid in the parish, where she moved about with all the sense of consequence which her brother's position warranted. The fact of his bachelorhood caused his relations to the female part of his flock to be even more shrouded in sacredness and mystery than is commonly the case with the great man of the F parish; but Miss Emily delighted to act as interpreter. She was charmed to serve out to the willing ears of his parish from time to time such scraps of information as regarded his life, habits, and opinions as might gratify their ever new curiosity. Instructed by her, all the good wives knew the difference between his very best long silk stockings and his second best, and how carefully the first had to be kept under lock and key, where he could not get at them; for he was understood, good as he was, to have concealed in him all the thriftless and pernicious inconsiderateness of the male nature, ready at any moment to break out into unheard-of improprieties. But the good man submitted himself to Miss Emily's rule, and suffered himself to be led about by her with an air of half whimsical consciousness. Mrs. Kittridge that day had felt the full delicacy of the compliment when she ascertained by a hasty glance, before the first prayer, that the good man had been brought out to her funeral ins all his very best things, not excepting the long silk stockings, for she knew the second-best pair by means of a certain skilful darn which Miss Emily had once shown her, which commemorated the spot where a hole had been. The absence of this darn struck to Mrs. Kittridge's heart at once as a delicate attention. "Miss Simpkins," said Mrs. Kittridge to her pastor, as they were seated at the tea-table, "told me that she wished when you were going home that you would call in to see Mary Jane-she couldn't come out to the funeral on account of a dreffle sore throat. I was tellin' on her to gargle it with blackberry-root tea-don't you think that is a good gargle, Mr. Sewell?" "Yes, I think it a very good gargle," replied the minister, gravely. "Ma'sh rosemary is the gargle that I always use," said Miss Roxy; "it cleans out your throat so." "Marsh rosemary is a very excellent gargle," said Mr. Sewell. "Why, brother, don't you think that rose leaves and vitriol is a good gargle?" said little Miss Emily; "I always thought that you liked rose leaves and vitriol for a gargle." EXCELLENT GARGLES. 83 "So I do," said the imperturbable Mr. Sewell, drinking his tea with the air of a sphinx. "Well, now; you'll have to tell which on 'em will be most likely to cure Mary Jane," said Captain Kittridge, "or there'll be a pullin' of caps, I'm thinkin'; or else the poor girl will have to drink them all, which is generally the way." "There won't any of them cure Mary Jane's throat," said the minister, quietly. "Why, brother!" "Why, Mr. Sewell!" "Why, you don't!" burst in different tones from each of the women. "I thought you said that blackberry-root tea was good," said Mrs. Kittridge. "I understood that you 'proved of ma'sh rosemary," said Miss Roxy, touched in her professional pride. "And I am sure, brother, that I have heard you say, often and often, that there wasn't a better gargle than rose leaves and vitriol," said Miss Emily. "You are quite right, ladies, all of you. I think these are all good gargles-excellent ones." "But I thought you said that they didn't do any good?" said all the ladies in a breath. "No, they don't-not the least in the world," said Mr. Sewell; " but they are all excellent gargles, and as long as people must have gargles, I think one is about as good as another." "Now you have got it," said Captain Kittridge. "Brother, you do say the strangest things," said Miss Emily. "Well, I must say," said Miss Roxy, "it is a new idea to me, long as I've been nussin', and I nuss'd through one season of scarlet fever when sometimes there was five died in one house; and if ma'sh rosemary didn't do good then, I should like to know what did." "So would a good many others," said the minister. "Law, now, Miss Roxy, you mus'n't mind him. Do you know that I believe he says these sort of things just to hear us talk? Of course he wouldn't think of puttin' his experience against yours." F2 "But, Miss Kittridge," said Miss Emily, with a view of summoning a less controverted subject, "what a beautiful little boy that was, and what a striking providence that brought him into such a good family!" "Yes," said Mrs. Kittridge; "but I'm sure I don't see what Mary Pennel is goin' to do with that boy, for she a'n't got no more government than a twisted tow string." "Oh, the Captain, he'll lend a hand," said Miss Roxy; “it won't be easy gettin' roun' him; Captain bears a pretty steady hand when he sets out to drive." "Well," said Miss Emily, "I do think that bringin' up children is the most awful responsibility, and I always wonder when I hear that any one dares to undertake it." "It requires a great deal of resolution, certainly," said Mrs. Kittridge; "I'm sure I used to get a'most discouraged when my boys was young: they was a reg'lar set of wild ass's colts," she added, not perceiving the reflection on their paternity. But the countenance of Mr. Sewell was all aglow with merriment, which did not break into a smile. "Wal', Miss Kittridge," said the Captain, "strikes me that you're gettin' pussonal." "No, I a'n't neither," said the literal Mrs. Kittridge, ignorant of the cause of the amusement which she saw around her; "but you wa'n't no help to me, you know; you was always off to sea, and the whole wear and tear on't came on me." "Well, well, Polly, all's well that ends well; don't you think so, Mr. Sewell?" " I haven't much experience in these matters," said Mr. Sewell, politely. "No, indeed, that's what he hasn't, for he never will have a child round the house that he don't turn everything topsy-turvy for them," said Miss Emily. "But I was going to remark," said Mr. Sewell, "that a friend of mine said once, that the woman that had brought up six boys deserved a seat among the martyrs and that is rather my opinion." SPECULATIONS ABOUT MOSES. 85 "Wal', Polly, if you git up there, I hope you'll keep a seat for me." Miss Emily interposed, and led the conversation back to the subject. "What a pity it is," she said, "that this poor child's family can never know anything about him. There may be those who would give all the world to know what has become of him; and when he comes to grow up, how sad he will feel to have no father and mother!" "Sister," said Mr. Sewell, "you cannot think that a child brought up by Captain Pennel and his wife would ever feel as without father and mother." "Why, no, brother, to be sure not. There's no doubt he will have everything done for him that a child could. But then it's a loss to lose one's real home." "It may be a gracious deliverance," said Mr. Sewell-" who knows? We may as well take a cheerful view, and think that some kind wave has drifted the child away from an unfortunate destiny to a family where we are quite sure he will be brought up industriously and soberly, and in the fear of God." "Well, I never thought of that," said Miss Roxy. Miss Emily, looking at her brother, saw that he was speaking with a suppressed vehemence, as if some inner fountain of recollection at the moment were disturbed. But Miss Emily knew no more of the deeper parts of her brother's nature than a little bird that dips its beak into the sunny waters of some spring knows of its depths of coldness and shadow. "Miss Pennel was a-sayin' to me," said Mrs. Kittridge, "that I should ask you what was to be done about the bracelet they found. We don't know whether 'tis real gold and precious stones, or only glass and pinchbeck. Cap'n Kittridge he thinks it's real; and if 'tis, why then the question is, whether or no to try to sell it, or to keep it for the boy agin he grows up. It may help find out who and what he is." |