if so far as the golden californian land this book of mine shall reach, it may, perchance, fall into the hands of some who, from their number, can select the veritable hero, the “cousin will” of my story. if so, i would ask them to think as leniently as possible of his faults, herein recorded, for the moustached will of california, whose generous conduct wins the love of all, is hardly the same wild, mischievous boy, who once kept our home in a perpetual state of excitement.
the tears were scarcely yet dried, which he had shed over his mother’s coffin, when he came to us, and in one corner of his green, oval trunk, there lay a tress of soft brown hair, which he had severed from that mother’s head. he was the son of my mother’s only sister, who, on her death-bed had committed him to the guardianship of my father, asking him to deal gently with her wayward boy, for beneath his faulty exterior there lay a mine of excellence, which naught save words of love could fathom.
without meaning to be so, perhaps, my father was a stern reserved man, never seeking the confidence of his children whose real characters he did not understand. it is true he loved us—provided for all our wants, and, as far as possible, strove to make us what the children of a new england 40presbyterian deacon ought to be; but he seldom petted us, and if carrie, with her sunny face and chestnut curls, sometimes stole up behind him and twined her chubby arms around his neck, he seemed ashamed to return her caress unless they were alone. brother charlie he looked upon as almost incorrigible, but if he found it hard to cope with his bold, fun-loving spirit, it was tenfold more difficult for him to tame the mischievous will, whom scarcely any one could manage, but who, strange to say, was a general favorite.
it was night when he reached meadow brook, and i was in bed, but through the closed doors i caught the sound of his voice, and in an instant i experienced a sensation of delight, as if in him i should find a kindred spirit. i could not wait until morning before i saw him, and, rising softly, i groped my way down the dark stairway to a knot-hole, which had more than once done me service when sent from the room while my mother and her company told something i was not to hear! he was sitting so that the light of the lamp fell full upon his face, which, with its high, white brow, hazel eyes, and mass of wavy hair, seemed to me the most beautiful i had ever seen. involuntarily i thought of my own plain features, and saying to myself, “he’ll never like me, never,” i crept back to bed, wondering if it were true that homely little girls made sometimes handsome women.
the next morning, wishing to produce as favorable an impression as possible, i was an unusually long time making my toilet—trying on one dress after another, and finally deciding upon a white cambric i never wore except to church, or on some similar occasion. giving an extra brush to my hair, which had grown out darker and so very curly that charley called me “snarly-pate,” i started for the breakfast-room, where the family were already assembled.
41“what upon earth has the child got on?” was grandma’s exclamation as she looked at me, both over and under her glasses, while mother bade me “go straight back and change my dress,” asking “why i had put on my very best?”
“settin’ her cap for bill, i guess,” suggested charlie, who, boy-like, was already on terms of great intimacy with his cousin.
more angry than grieved, i went back to my room, where i pouted for half an hour or more. then, selecting the worst looking dress i had, i again descended to the dining-room where charlie presented me to will, telling him at the same time “to spare all comments on my appearance, as it made me madder than a march hare to be called ugly.”
“i don’t think she’s ugly. anyway i like her looks,” said will, smiling down upon me with those eyes which have since made many a heart beat as mine did then, for ’twas the first compliment of the kind i had ever received.
will had always lived in the city, and now, anxious to see the lions of the country at once, he proposed to charlie a ramble over the farm, inviting me to accompany them, which i did willingly, notwithstanding that charlie muttered something about “not wanting a gal stuck along.”
in the pasture we came across “old sorrel,” whom will said he would ride as they did in a circus, if charlie would only catch him. this was an easy task, for sorrel, suspecting no evil, came up to us quite readily, when will, leaping upon his back, commenced whooping and hallooing so loudly that sorrel’s mettle was up, and for nearly an hour he ran quite as fast as his rider could wish. but circus riding was not sorrel’s forte, and he probably grew dizzy, for he at length stumbled and fell, injuring his fore foot in 42some way, so that, to our dismay, we found he was unable to walk without a great effort.
“je-mi-my! won’t the old gentleman rare!” said charlie, who was never very choice of his language.
will, on the contrary, seemed more concerned for the horse, bringing water in his hat, and bathing the fast-swelling limb of the poor animal, who appeared to be grateful for the kindness. charlie proposed that we should keep it a secret, but to this will would not listen, and in a plain, straightforward way he confessed what he had done, and father, who saw that sorrel was temporarily injured, forgave him, for he could not resist the pleading of will’s dark eyes.
this was his first day’s adventure—the next one was a little different. finding a cow in the lane, he tried the experiment of milking, succeeding so well that when at night sally came in with her half filled pail, she declared that “line-back was drying up, for she’d only given a drop or so.” for this and numerous other misdemeanors will also received absolution, but when on the second sabbath after his arrival he and charlie both were missed from church, whither they had started a full half hour before the rest of our family, father grew fidgety, holding his hymn book wrong side up, and sitting, instead of standing, during the prayer, a thing he was never known to do before. he was very strict in the observance of the fourth commandment, as indeed were most of the citizens of meadow brook, it being an almost state prison offence to stay away from church on the sabbath, or speak above a whisper until after sunset.
by the way, i think it a mistake, this converting the sabbath into a day so much to be dreaded by the youthful, fun-loving members of the family, who are not yet old enough 43to see the propriety of having in reserve a sunday face, as well as a sunday gown. i would not have that sacred day profaned, but i would have it divested of that gloom with which it is too often associated in the child’s mind. i would have everything connected with it as cheerful and pleasant as possible, and in these days of sabbath schools and sabbath school-books, it seems an easy matter to make it “the day of all the week the best.” i well remember one rainy sunday, when the whole family were obliged to remain at home, the younger ones reciting the catechism to grandma, committing to memory and repeating to mother ten verses of the fifth chapter of matthew, and then being compelled to sit up stiff and straight while father read to us a long metaphysical sermon, which he interspersed and lengthened out with remarks of his own, among which was the consoling one that “heaven was one eternal sabbath.”
this was too much for charlie, whose mind, instead of dwelling on the words of the good divine, was sadly wandering towards a nest of young white pigs, only that morning born. turning towards me with a most rueful face, he whispered, “darned if i’ll go there. i’ll run away first.”
of course i laughed aloud—how could i help it; and on my saying that “charlie made me,” we were both ordered from the room in disgrace, which latter we bore manfully—charlie going straight to his pigs, while i stole up garret to a big candle-box, where, on one of my old dresses, lay sleeping six beautiful kittens.
but i am wandering from my subject, which was the time when will and charlie were missing from church, and when, to his utter astonishment, father learned that they had gone to the consecration of a roman catholic church, which had recently been erected a little out of the village, on an eminence, where its white cross could be seen from every point.
44against the catholics as a religious denomination my father was prejudiced, and when he ascertained that his son, born of orthodox parents, and baptized in the orthodox faith, had not only run away to their church, but had also paid twenty-five cents, the price of admission, he was a good deal excited, and for a deacon showed considerable temper. it was, of course, will’s doings, he having coaxed charlie to go by telling him of the wonderful sights there were to be seen.
at a late hour they came home, loitering around the barn a long time before they ventured into the presence of my father, whom my grandmother had somewhat appeased by telling him that “boys must sow their wild oats sometime, and it wasn’t best to be too strict with ’em, for it only made ’em act worse,” adding that “the catholics were not the worst folks in the world, and they had just as much right to their form of worship as we had to ours.” this in a measure mollified him, and consequently the two boys only received a long lecture, and were debarred the privilege of going to the village, except on sundays, for three weeks, a punishment which annoyed will exceedingly. but nothing could subdue him, and the moment the three weeks had expired he was as ready for mischief as ever. for a long time the coming of a circus had been heralded by flaming handbills in red and yellow, one of which will plastered onto our great barn door, from which conspicuous post it was removed by my father, who conscientiously turned his back upon men and women riding on their heads, declaring it an outrage upon all rules of propriety, and denouncing circuses and circus-going people as utterly low and vulgar. thus from my earliest remembrance had i been taught, and still my heart would throb faster, whenever, with the beat of the drum and the sound of the bugle, the long procession swept past 45our door, and more than once had i stolen to the top of the hill, whence could be seen the floating banner and swaying canvas, watching from afar the evil i dared not approach.
great, then, was my surprise, when, on the morning of the eventful day, will suggested that charlie, john, lizzie, and i should run away in the evening and visit the “doings,” as he called it. i was shocked that he should propose my going to such a place. “it was low and vulgar,” i told him, “and no one went there but loafers and rowdies.”
but he assured me that i was mistaken, saying that “some of our most respectable people attended;” and then he wondered “how i was ever to know anything unless i once in a while went to a circus, or a theatre, or something. it was perfectly ridiculous,” he said, “for father to keep us so cooped up at home. nobody else did so. there was lawyer smith’s daughter, and judge brown’s niece in albany, who always went, and if it didn’t hurt them, it wouldn’t me.”
thus will reasoned, persuading me at last; and just at dark, lizzie and i, on pretence of going to bed early, went to our room, dressed ourselves in our best, i donning the white cambric, which i had worn on the first day of will’s arrival, and then when we were ready, got out upon the roof of the woodshed, which came up under our window, descending thence by means of a ladder which will and charlie brought from the barn. i had the utmost confidence in will, and yet as i drew near the tent, and saw the rabble, whose appearance fully equalled my father’s description, i wished myself away. just then the band inside struck up, and giving my fears to the winds, i pressed forward, once involuntarily turning my head aside, as i heard a man near the door exclaim, “deacon lee’s children, as i live! is the world coming an end?”
instantly my face flushed, for i felt that injustice was done 46to my father, and my first impulse was to exonerate him from all blame by explaining that we had run away; but ere i could do so will pulled me along, and in a moment we were in the close, heated atmosphere of the vast arena, where were congregated more than a thousand people, of all ages and conditions. i was confounded, for it seemed to me that each and every one was pointing towards us the finger of scorn, and never since have i felt so wholly degraded and ashamed as i did at the moment of my first entrance to a circus!
we had been but a short time seated, when will, who had divined my feelings, nudged my elbow, and pointing towards a group just entering, said, “see, there’s ’squire talbot, his wife and daughter, dr. griffin, and lots more of meadow brook aristocracy. now, ain’t you glad you came?”
it was as he said, and as i saw the above mentioned individuals, some of them professors of religion, and all of them people of the first standing in town, i can scarcely tell how i felt. it was a sensation of mingled pleasure, bewilderment, and perplexity. could it be that, after all, my father was wrong, that he was too strict with us, debarring us from innocent amusements, for if it were proper for members of the church to frequent such places, why was it not for me? now, i can answer promptly that my father was right, wholly right, but i was puzzled then, and gradually i began to care less for being there, and to have less fear of what father would say when he found it out. i was growing very brave, entrenching myself behind the bad example of those who little suspected the harm their presence was doing. father did not know the ways of the world, i thought, but after being enlightened by me, i was sure he would become a convert at once, and possibly at 47the next circus he would be in attendance, but from this last idea i involuntarily shrank, thinking i could never respect him again, were he guilty of such a thing.
i enjoyed it vastly, all except the riding of the girl, who i fancied had on her little sister’s dress, and when she came out i looked for a place where to hide my head; but hearing the spectators cheer louder than ever, i cast furtive glances at those around me, discovering to my amazement that they seemed more delighted with her than with anything else; while, to crown all, i heard will telling a young man, that “she was a splendid rider, that he never saw but one who could beat her, and that was a girl in albany.” then turning to lizzie, he asked if she would not like to ride in that way?
with an involuntary shudder i threw my arm around my sister, as if to protect her from what i felt would be worse than a thousand deaths. gradually there was dawning upon my mind the suspicion that a circus after all was not exactly the school for pure young girls, and i felt that not all the wealth of the indies could tempt me to fill the post that that rider did. towards the other actors i was more lenient, thinking that if ever i joined the circus, i should surely be the clown, whose witty speeches amused me greatly, for i did not then know that they were all made up beforehand, and that what he said to us to-day he would say to others on the morrow. mlle. glaraine was just finishing up her performance by riding around the circle without other support than the poising of one foot on a man’s shoulder, when who should appear but our father!
he had missed will and charlie from family prayers, and had traced them as far as the pavilion, where the fee-receiver demanded a quarter ere he would allow him to enter. it was in vain that father tried to explain matters, 48saying, “he never attended a circus in his life, and what was more never should; he’d only come for two boys who had run away.”
the doorkeeper was incorrigible; “he’d seen just as honest looking men,” he said, “who were the greatest cheats in the world, and if father wanted to go in, he could do so by paying the usual fee; if not, he must budge.”
finding there was no alternative, father yielded, and then made his way into the tent, scanning with his keen grey eyes the sea of faces until he singled out charlie, who was so absorbed in stamping and hallooing at mlle. glaraine’s leaping through a hoop, that he never dreamed of father’s presence until a rough hand was laid upon his shoulder, and a stern voice demanded of him why he was there?
perfectly thunderstruck, charlie started to his feet with the exclamation of “je-ru-sa-lem!” but before he could make any explanation father discovered lizzie and me. ’twas the first suspicion he had of our being there, and now, when he saw us, he turned pale, and reeled as if smitten by a heavy blow. had he felled me to the earth it would have hurt me less than did the expression of his face and the tones of his voice, as he said, “you, too, rosa! i never thought you would thus deceive me.”
i began to cry aloud; so did lizzie, and in this way we made our exit from the circus, followed by charlie, john, and will, the latter of whom, the moment we were in the open air, began to take the blame all to himself, saying, as was very true, that we never would have thought of going but for him, and suggesting that he alone should be punished, as he was the one most in fault. i thought this was very magnanimous in will, and i looked up in father’s face to see how it affected him, but the moonlight was obscure, and i could discover nothing, though the hand 49that held mine trembled violently. i presume he thought that in this case corporal punishment would be of no avail, for we received none, but in various ways were we made to feel that we had lost the confidence of the family. for four long weeks we were each night locked into our rooms, while for the same length of time we were kept from school, lizzie and i reciting our lessons to our mother, while will, charlie, and john, to use their own words, “worked from morning until night, like niggers.”
but the worst part of it all was the temporary disgrace which our act of disobedience brought upon father. a half drunken fellow, who saw him enter the tent, and who knew that we were there, hurried away to the village with the startling intelligence that “deacon lee and all his family were at the circus.”
the news spread like wildfire, gathering strength in its progress, until by the time it reached us it was a current report that not only was father at the circus, but grandma too! this was more than the old lady could bear. sixty-nine years had she lived without ever having had a word breathed against her morals, and now, just as her life’s sun was setting, to have such a thing laid to her charge was too much, and she actually worried herself into a fever, which confined her to the house for several weeks.
after this adventure it became a serious question in father’s mind as to what he should do with will, who kept our heretofore quiet household in a state of perpetual excitement. nothing seemed to have the least effect upon him save the mention of his mother, and that for the time being would subdue him, but when temptation came, he invariably yielded, and charlie, who was an apt scholar, was pretty sure to follow where his wild, dashing cousin led. there was scarcely any boyish vice to which will 50was not more or less addicted, and “deacon lee’s sons,” who had often been held up as patterns for their companions, began soon to prove the old adage true, that “evil communications corrupt good manners.”
john learned to handle an oath quite fluently, while charlie was one sunday morning discovered playing euchre with will on the hay loft, where they kept their cards hidden. but all this was nothing compared to the night when both the boys were brought home so intoxicated that neither of them was able to stand alone or speak! they had been to a “raising,” where the brandy bottle circulated freely, will, as a matter of course, drinking from the beginning. charlie, however, hesitated until they taunted him with “being afraid of the old deacon,” daring him “to drink and be a man.” then he yielded, and with fiendish pleasure the crowd gathered around, urging him on, until he was undeniably drunk; after which they chuckled with delight as they wondered what the “blue presbyterian” would say. we were sitting down to supper when they brought him home, and the moment mother saw him, she darted forward, exclaiming, “is he dead? tell me, is my boy dead?”
“yes, dead—drunk,” answered the man, with a cold, ironical sneer at her distress.
he was used to it, for of five noble sons who once called him their father, four slept in a drunkard’s grave, and the fifth had far better have been there than the wreck he was. my father had risen from his seat, but at the words “he is drunk,” he dropped upon the floor as if scathed with the lightning’s stroke. you who think it a light matter—the holding of the wine-cup to the lips of your neighbor’s child—you should have seen my father that night, as moan after moan of anguish came from his pale lips, while the great drops of perspiration stood thickly upon his forehead and 51about his mouth. the effect it had upon him was terrible; crushing him to the earth, and weaving in among his hitherto brown locks more than one thread of silver. once when charlie was with me, i heard him in the barn, praying that the promise of a covenant god might be remembered towards him, and that his son might yet be saved. charlie’s feelings were touched, and dropping on his knees at my side he made a solemn vow that never again should ardent spirits of any kind pass his lips; and god, who heard that vow mingled with my father’s prayer, registered it in heaven, and from that day to this, amid all the temptations which come to early manhood, it has been unbroken.
not thus easily could will be reached. his was the sorrow of a day, which passed away with the coming of to-morrow’s sun, and after a long consultation, it was decided that he should go to sea, and the next merchantman bound for the east indies, which sailed from boston, bore on its deck, as a common sailor, our cousin will, who went from us reluctantly, for to him there was naught but terror, toil, and fear in “a life on the ocean wave.” but there was no other way to save him, they said, and so with bitter grief at our hearts, we bade adieu to the wayward boy, praying that god would give the winds and waves charge concerning him, and that no danger might befall him when afar on the rolling billow.
