“Well, how many of you would like to go to the city to-day?” the captain asked in pleasant tones the next morning at the breakfast-table. “You, my dear?” looking at Violet.
“No, thank you, sir, I think not, as I have a number of matters to attend to at home and will not be needed to assist in the shopping, as mamma and Sister Elsie are both going; probably Evelyn also, as some dresses are to be bought for her.”
“You will go, Marian?” he said inquiringly, turning to her as he spoke. “You will want to exercise your own taste and judgment in the selection of articles of dress; at least so I presume, as such is the case with my eldest daughter,” he concluded with a smiling glance at Lulu. “And she, I dare say, wants to be of the party.”
“If you are going, papa,” Lulu replied; “otherwise I’d rather stay at home, if I may.”
“You may do exactly as you please, go or stay; so may Gracie.”
“But you don’t say whether you are going of not, papa.”
“I shall stay at home, as there are some matters for me to attend to, perhaps nearly as important as those which will keep my wife at home,” he said in a playful tone, turning toward her again as he spoke.
“I am not sorry to hear it, my dear,” Violet responded.
“And I don’t want to go,” said Grace. “I never do like to go to the city without my father to take care of me,” with an affectionate look up into his face. “Besides, I’ve promised to help Elsie arrange her doll-house and make some new clothes for her dollies.”
“Ah? and of course promises must be kept; but as you do not want to go without papa you will not feel it a hardship, I hope, to keep yours to your little sisters.”
“But I wouldn’t want Gracie to stay at home if she wanted to go,” said little Elsie; “no indeed I wouldn’t, papa.”
“No, my dear baby girl is not so selfish as that, I am sure,” he returned with a loving look into the rosy, dimpled face. “But I feel quite sure Gracie does not want to go.”
“And somehow papa always knows what we want, Elsie,” Grace said with a contented little laugh.
“And as you will have Grandma Elsie, Aunt Elsie, Rosie and Evelyn along to help you select your dresses and other things, you won’t miss me if I stay at home, Marian,” said Lulu. “I want to get out our school-books—Gracie’s and mine—and arrange our desks ready for school; for papa says we are to begin lessons again to-morrow.”
“I shall miss you, I know,” Marian answered with a smile; “but of course it is by no means necessary that you should go, and I should be sorry to be a hindrance to you.”
Half an hour later the carriages from Ion and Fairview were seen coming up the drive. The Raymonds and their guest were all on the veranda, watching for them, Marian ready dressed for the little jaunt.
“Well, here we are!” called out a cheery voice as the foremost vehicle drew up in front of the veranda. “How many of you are going with us?”
“Only one—our young guest,” the captain replied, handing Marian in as he spoke. Cousin Ronald, Grandma Elsie, and her daughter Rosie were its occupants, and each gave Marian an affectionate morning greeting. Then Violet stepped forward for a moment’s chat with her mother, in which Rosie and the captain joined; thus leaving Marian and Mr. Lilburn the opportunityfor a bit of private chat of their own.
“Lassie,” he said with a kindly smile, “dinna forget that you are a sort o’ adopted child o’ my ain, and that I hae a father’s right to at least help provide you wi’ a’ things needful,” slipping a roll of bank-notes into her hand.
“Oh,” she exclaimed, half under her breath and with starting tears, “how good and generous you are to me! I never had half as much in all my life.”
“Why, my bairnie, you have na counted it yet!” he exclaimed with a low, gleeful laugh.
“No, sir; but such a roll—so many bills!”
He laughed again. “It’s clear enough, lass, that you’ve had small acquaintance wi’ bank-notes. One alone may be worth a thousand o’ another denomination. There are twenty there—ten tens and ten fives.”
“A hundred and fifty dollars! Oh, how much! I feel myself a woman of wealth. But what can I ever do to show my gratitude?” she said low and tremulously, happy, grateful tears shining in her eyes.
Then good-mornings were exchanged and the carriage drove on.
Toward evening Marian returned with what was to her an astonishing wealth of lovely apparel. She had a great dislike of mourning,but had chosen quiet colors, such as met with Grandma Elsie’s cordial approval. Her purchases came to Woodburn in the carriage with her; she took great delight in showing them to Violet and the little girls, and they scarcely less in looking at them.
“Now,” said Violet, “we will get several persons to work to-morrow on your dresses and have them ready as soon as possible for your wearing. I am delighted with your choice, and feel sure everything you have bought will prove very becoming.”
“Oh, how good you are to me, dear Cousin Vi!” exclaimed Marian with feeling. “But I do think that after so much has been done for me, to make up my dresses myself is the least that ought to be asked of me.”
“No, no, Marian,” said the captain, “that would never do. I could not think of allowing it, because it would keep you so long out of the school-room.”
“Ah, my dear, it is easy to see that you are in haste to get her where she will be subject to your control,” exclaimed Violet laughingly. “Ah, Lu, don’t look so indignant! that was but a jest—a sorry one perhaps—for I appreciate the kindness of your father’s motives fully as much, I think, as any one else can.”
“Ah, I fear my dear eldest daughter is but asilly little girl as regards her father and the respect paid him by others,” remarked the captain, laying a hand affectionately upon Lulu’s shoulder as she stood by his side.
“I’m afraid I am, papa,” she returned, coloring and smiling rather shamefacedly, “but I just can’t bear to have even Mamma Vi talk as if you weren’t quite perfect.” At that the captain laughed.
“It would never do coming from a daughter,” he said, “but is entirely excusable in a wife.”
“Thank you, sir,” laughed Vi, “I quite appreciate the privilege you accord me.”
“I’m afraid it is time for me to go to my room and make myself neat for tea,” said Marian, pulling out a pretty little watch; at which Lulu and Grace cried, “How lovely!”
“Yes; it is another of Cousin Ronald’s gifts; something I had hardly ever dared to hope to possess. Was it not good and kind in him to give it to me?”
Then she told of the roll of bank-notes he had put into her hand that morning, and that the price of the watch did not come out of that.
It was handed about from one to another, admired by all, then returned to its owner, who immediately gathered up a number of her packages and, with Lulu and a servant carrying the rest, hastened to her room.
The two girls came down again presently in answer to the tea-bell.
It was the usual tempting meal to which they sat down, simple but daintily prepared, daintily served, and made all the more palatable and enjoyable by cheerful chat in which even the little ones were allowed a share.
On leaving the table Marian was taken by Lulu and Grace to see the school-room.
“Oh, what a lovely room! what beautiful desks and comfortable-looking chairs!” she exclaimed. “And with your dear father for teacher it must be only a pleasure, a great pleasure, to study here!”
“So Lu and I think,” said Grace, “though I must own that there are times when I’m a little lazy.”
“I too,” said Lulu, “oftener than Gracie, I think; but though papa is always very patient and kind, he insists that if we are well the lessons must be learned.”
“I am sure that is kind,” said Marian; “a good education is so, so valuable—better than wealth, because not so easily lost.”
“And for other reasons quite as well worth considering,” added a manly voice behind them, and turning in its direction they found Captain Raymond standing near.
Marian’s look was inquiring and he went on:“Knowledge of the right kind brings more real pleasure into one’s life than can be found in wealth, fits one for greater usefulness, and is, as you just remarked, not so easily lost.”
“Very true, sir,” Marian responded thoughtfully, “and if you help me to gain that you will be a benefactor indeed.”
“I am disposed to do all I can to help you, my good girl,” he said in a kindly tone; “and I think your companionship with Lulu in her studies will so interest and spur her on that I shall feel more than repaid for the slight addition to my labor.”
“Papa,” asked Grace thoughtfully, “doesn’t it say somewhere in the Bible that it is better to get wisdom than gold?”
“Yes; in Proverbs Solomon exclaims, ‘How much better is it to get wisdom than gold! and to get understanding rather to be chosen than silver; and knowledge rather than choice gold. For wisdom is better than rubies; and all the things that may be desired are not to be compared to it.’ But doubtless he there refers to heavenly wisdom—a saving faith in the Lord Jesus Christ, who is the wisdom by which God established the heavens and founded the earth.”
“When am I to begin school, captain?” asked Marian presently.
“I think I will let you off until next week, ifyou wish it,” he replied in a playful tone; “or, as I go to Annapolis for a day or two early the week after, perhaps you may as well delay beginning your studies until my return.”
“O Marian, don’t! do begin next Monday,” urged Lulu. “I do so want to have you with us in the school-room and for you to find out what a good and kind teacher papa is.”
“His eldest daughter being the judge,” remarked the captain with an amused look.
“And his second daughter being of exactly the same opinion,” added Grace, slipping a hand into his as she stood close at his side.
He pressed it affectionately, then, still holding it fast, proposed that they should return to the veranda where they had been sitting before the call to the tea-table.
He led the way with Grace, the others following, and presently the four were seated there, Grace close to her father on one side, Lulu on the other, and Marian near at hand.
“O Marian, do say you will begin lessons next Monday,” urged Lulu again. “I’m perfectly sure your dresses can be fitted by that time, and if there is any fitting not done, it can be attended to out of school hours; or papa will let you go for a little; for he’s always reasonable and kind; if it is his own little girl that says so,”she concluded with a roguish look up into her father’s face.
“Ah, Marian, if you are wise you will not put too much faith in the opinion of one who evidently looks at the person under discussion through rose-colored glasses,” remarked the captain in a gravely warning tone.
“It seems to be the way with every one who knows you, sir,” laughed Marian; “so I will be on my guard till I have learned more of you through my own observation.”
“And do you mean to wait till you have satisfied yourself upon that point before you venture to become one of his pupils?” queried Lulu.
“It would not be waiting very long, as I am already satisfied that Captain Raymond is to be trusted; for I have had a report of his teaching and government from both Rosie and Evelyn; a most favorable one from each,” Marian said in reply.
“And of course they wouldn’t be as likely to prove partial judges as his own daughters who love him so dearly,” remarked Grace, with her arm about her father’s neck, her eyes gazing fondly into his.
“I think I shall venture,” returned Marian. “My intention is to be careful to keep rules and to work very hard at the lessons; so doingI cannot think I shall run much risk of punishment. The worst he could inflict (expelling me) would only—I was going to say, leave me where it found me; it would be worse than that, though—real disgrace and disappointment; but I don’t intend ever to be so idle, mischievous, or rebellious as to bring it on myself.”
“I have not the slightest fear that you will,” said the captain, “and I think too that I know you pretty thoroughly since the weeks spent in the same house with you in Minersville.”
“And do you intend then to begin on Monday?” queried Lulu with, a look of joyous expectancy.
“Yes, indeed; if nothing happens to prevent. I do not want to lose any time, for I wish to be able to earn my own living as soon as possible.”
“Why, what a very independent young woman you seem to be, Cousin Marian!” laughed a sweet girlish voice close at hand, and Violet tripped lightly from the doorway to a chair which her husband, hastily putting Grace from his knee, drew forward for her use.
“Thank you, my dear,” she said, taking possession. “You are intending to become one of my husband’s pupils, Marian?”
“He has invited me, and I have thankfully accepted,” Marian replied. “I think it a most kind and generous offer.”
“I entirely agree with you in that opinion,” Violet returned with a look of ardent, admiring affection up into her husband’s face, “but can assure you that kindness and generosity are nothing new for him.”
“Ah, I knew that much about him before he left Minersville,” returned Marian. “Many there can testify to his great kindness and generosity.”
Just then a carriage was seen coming up the drive and the captain rose with a sigh of relief to meet and welcome his guests, who proved to be callers from one of the neighboring plantations.
The next morning, while the other young folks resumed the duties of the school-room, Marian was, with Alma’s assistance, busied with planning, cutting, and fitting the new dresses. Each had heard something of the other’s story. Alma had many questions to ask about life among the Mormons, and the more she heard from Marian in reply, the more did she rejoice in the narrow escape of herself and sister from their toils.
The moment they were dismissed from the school-room, Rosie, Evelyn, and Lulu came in search of Marian. Rosie had some news to tell.
“Mamma had a letter this morning from my brothers Harold and Herbert, begging and entreatingher to come to the commencement at Princeton. I suppose you all know that they are to graduate, and they think they must have mamma there; to enjoy their triumph, I presume,” she added laughingly.
“And will she go?” asked Marian.
“I think she will,” replied Rosie, “and that grandpa and grandma will go with her. They both have relatives in and about Philadelphia and will take the opportunity to visit them too.” “On which side is the relationship with Cousin Elsie?” asked Marian, with a look of interest.
“Oh, they are none of them her mother’s relatives,” said Rosie. “But grandpa’s half-sister—Aunt Adelaide—married a brother of Grandma Rose; so she and her children are related to both sides of our house, and Grandma Rose has other brothers and sisters in that neighborhood besides her old father and mother. So she likes to visit there frequently.”
“And they of course must always be delighted to have her with them; such a sweet, lovely lady as Cousin Elsie is!”
“But she will go first to Max’s commencement, won’t she, Rosie? I mean the commencement at the Naval Academy at Annapolis,” said Lulu.
“She says she wants and intends to,” repliedRosie; “that is, if she is well enough, and she certainly seems very well indeed just now.”
“I am so glad of it!” exclaimed Lulu. “We are all going, in theDolphin, if nothing happens to prevent, and I hope all of you girls will be with us. It is so lovely there and I think we are likely to have a delightful time.”
“It will all be new to you, Marian,” observed Rosie pleasantly.
“Oh, I do not expect to make one of the party,” returned Marian quickly and with a blush.
“Papa said you were to go if you wanted to,” said Lulu, “and I am sure you would if you could realize what a delightful trip it will be.”
“I thank both you and your father, Lulu, very much indeed,” Marian returned with a blush and a smile, “but I have little or nothing fit to wear at such a place and in such company, and it would be entirely impossible for me to get ready in season.”
“Yes, I suppose so,” said Lulu, looking somewhat disappointed; “but there will probably be other times when you can go,” she added, brightening up.
At that moment Grace looked in at the door with an announcement: “Grandma Elsie, Grandpa Dinsmore, and Cousin Ronald are in the veranda, talking with papa and mamma.”
“And are we invited to join the conference?” queried Rosie in a merry, jesting tone.
“I don’t think it’s a secret conference,” replied Grace, “and I suppose we can all join it if we want to.”
“I should like to do so if I could leave my work,” Marian said, “but I must stay and attend to it unless they say I am wanted for some particular reason.”
“In that case we’ll let you know, Marian,” said Lulu as she and the others hastened from the room together.
They found the older people arranging plans for attending the Annapolis and Princeton commencements; it was already decided that to the first all would go from Woodburn and Ion who cared to, some of them by rail, the others in theDolphin, then Mr. and Mrs. Dinsmore and Grandma Elsie to the other; and also, before returning, they would spend some weeks in visiting friends and relatives in and about Philadelphia.
The young folks listened quietly but with intense interest, now and then exchanging glances which told plainly how delighted they were with the prospect of having a share in the expedition to Annapolis; even Grace, who usually thought home the most desirable place for her, being no exception.
She presently stole to her father’s side, slipped her hand into his, and looked up into his face with a bright, glad smile.
“I am to go too, papa?” she asked in a low tone, meant only for his ear.
“Unless you prefer to stay at home, daughter,” he said, putting an arm around her and drawing her closer to him, smoothing her hair with the other hand and smiling fondly down into the fair young face.
“Oh, no, sir! I want to go, ’specially as Mamma Vi and Elsie and baby Ned will all go along; and we’ll be in theDolphinand not in the tiresome cars.”
“Yes, I think theDolphinis far more comfortable than the cars, and I trust the little trip will prove very enjoyable to us all,” he replied, by no means ill-pleased that his little girl was so happy in the prospect.
Timemoved on swiftly enough to the older people, busily engaged in preparations for the contemplated trip to Annapolis, yet with rather laggard step to the younger ones, who were in haste to experience its pleasures and excitements. But in the performance of school duties they one and all acquitted themselves quite to the captain’s satisfaction; even excitable Lulu finding it not nearly so difficult to concentrate her thoughts upon the business in hand as it had been when first her father began to act as tutor to his children. Also Marian’s companionship in her lessons during the second week was an assistance to renewed and increased interest in them.
But at length the appointed day for the sailing of theDolphincame. Marian adhered to her decision to remain behind, attending to the preparation of her summer wardrobe, but the others, all in good health and spirits, were ready and eager for the trip.
The weather was charming, making their drive to the city delightful; the rest of theshort journey on board theDolphin—which they found awaiting them at the wharf and in the most beautiful order, everything about her deck and above and below looking spick and span as though she had but just come from the hands of her builders and decorators.
They arrived the day before that on which the graduating exercises were to be held, dropping anchor in the Severn just as the afternoon artillery drill began. They witnessed it from the deck and could see that Max was a prominent figure therein. He seemed to go into it most enthusiastically, and they all, his father especially, watched his every movement with pride and delight.
He had purposely left the lad in ignorance of the exact time of the expected arrival, and Max discovered the near vicinity of theDolphinonly when the exercises had come to an end. At the same instant a message from the commandant reached him, giving permission for him to go aboard the yacht and remain there until half-past nine that evening, and theDolphin’srow-boat was seen to leave her side with the captain in it.
In a very few moments more Max was on the deck of the yacht, surrounded by those nearest and dearest to him, his father looking on with beaming eyes while they crowded around thelad with their joyful and affectionate greetings.
“Now, Max, sit down here among us and give a full account of yourself, your doings and experiences since we saw you last,” said Grandma Elsie with an affectionate smile into the bright young face, and making room for him by her side as she spoke.
Max gave his father an inquiring look, and receiving an approving nod in reply, took the seat and did his best to answer satisfactorily the questions which were showered upon him from all sides: queries as to the progress he was making in his studies, great-gun exercise, field artillery, infantry tactics, etc., and in regard to various other matters.
But a joyous bark suddenly interrupted the talk, and Max’s dog Prince bounded into the midst of the group, raised himself upon his hind legs, put his fore-paws on his young master’s shoulders, his tail wagging fast with delight, and tried to lick Max’s face.
“Why, hello, Prince, I’m glad to see you, old fellow!” cried the lad, patting and stroking him, but avoiding the caress. “There, that will do; you try to kiss harder and longer than any other of my friends.”
“P’raps that’s because I love you harder,” Prince seemed to say. “And it’s longer sinceI saw you last. The captain never invited me to come along before.”
“He didn’t?” laughed Max. “Well, I don’t believe you asked him; but I’m right glad to see you here at last. Also to find you haven’t forgotten how to talk.”
“No, my young master, but it’s the first time I’ve done anything in that line since you left me at Woodburn.”
By this time everybody was laughing.
“Oh, Max, who is making Prince talk—you or Cousin Ronald?” asked Lulu.
“See if you can’t find out for yourself, Lu,” laughed Max. “Suppose you ask Prince; surely he should know.”
“Well, I’ll try it,” she returned merrily. “Prince, who helped you to do that talking just now?”
“Why, who helps you to talk, Miss Lu?” came promptly in return, apparently from the dog’s lips.
“Oh, I don’t need any help in that line,” she returned laughingly, “and never have since I first learned how in my babyhood.”
“Do you never tire of talking, Miss Lu?” The query seemed to come from Prince’s lips as he looked up gravely into her face.
“No, I can’t say that I do,” she laughed. “Do you?”
“I am oftener tired of not being able to express my thoughts and feelings,” was the reply. Then the call to tea put an end to the conversation for the time.
Prince followed the others to the table and when all were seated laid himself down at Max’s feet. There he lay looking up into the lad’s face, and when the plates had been filled a low whine seemed to say he too would be glad to have a share of the savory viands.
“Just wait a bit, old fellow, and your turn will come,” said Max. “You never starve where my father is master, I’m sure.”
“No, that’s true enough; but it is not always so easy to wait when one’s hungry and sees other folks with plates heaped with savory victuals right before them. Why shouldn’t dogs be helped at once as well as men, women, and children?”
Prince’s tail swept the floor and his hungry eyes looked up wistfully into those of his young master as the words seemed to come from his lips.
“Well done, Prince! such efforts at speech ought to be duly rewarded,” remarked the captain gravely; then he directed a servant to take the dog out and feed him well.
“What is the programme for this evening?” asked Violet; “a trip up the river again?”
“If you and the others wish it, my dear,” replied her husband, to whom her query seemed to be addressed. “I had thought, however, of going down the river and bay, as we went up on our last visit here. We will put it to the vote of those present. I am quite indifferent personally as to which course we pursue.” It soon appeared that the majority were in favor of moving toward the bay, and on leaving the table the captain issued his orders, theDolphinweighed anchor, and the wind being favorable, they sailed down the river and out into the bay.
“Annapolis is a very old town, is it not, Brother Levis?” asked Walter.
“Yes,” was the reply; “it was founded by the Puritans under Captain William Clayborne. He first settled over yonder on Kent Island in 1631, but was expelled from there—he and his adherents—in 1638, for refusing to acknowledge allegiance to the newly established government of Lord Baltimore. In 1642 some Puritans, expelled from Virginia for non-conformity, settled where now stands Annapolis, founded a town there and called it Providence. In 1691 it became the capital of the State and the name was changed to Annapolis.”
“You have gone farther back in its history than you ever did in telling us about it before, papa,” remarked Lulu.
“Ah? how far back did I go before?” he asked pleasantly.
“To the time when they heard of the resistance to the passing of the Stamp Act by the people of Massachusetts, sir,” she replied. “Don’t you remember that when we were sailing from Newport to Annapolis, to bring Max here to enter the Academy, we young folks all gathered round you, just as we have to-night, and asked for revolutionary happenings in Maryland?”
“Ah, yes, I do remember it now, though it was nearly a year ago,” he returned, looking with a humorous smile down into her eyes.
“Why, just think,” exclaimed Max, “the town was then more than a hundred years old. What a venerable old place it is now!”
“Ah, no wonder you grow manly so fast, young sir, living in such a grand old place,” remarked a strange voice apparently coming from the rear of the little party seated pretty close together on the deck.
Naturally every head turned in the direction of the sound, but the speaker was not to be seen.
“Who and where are you, sir?” queried the captain. “Step forward and take a seat with the rest of us.”
“Thank you, sir; but I do not want to intrude. You must excuse me for coming aboard,but I wanted a sail and thought my weight wouldn’t retard the boat. I’ll pay for my passage if you say so.”
The speaker continued invisible, though every word was distinctly heard.
“Then do so by giving us a sight of your face,” returned Captain Raymond.
“It is not covered, sir, and you are all welcome to look your fill,” was the reply.
“Where is de mans, papa?” asked little Ned, gazing wonderingly about.
“Sitting in Cousin Ronald’s chair, I think,” replied his father, smoothing the curls of the little prattler, who was seated upon his knee.
“No, papa, dat Tousin Ronald.”
“Well, then, perhaps it was Brother Max.”
“No, papa, Bruver Maxie not talk dat way. Does oo, Maxie?”
“I think not, Neddie boy,” returned Max, smiling on the baby boy and giving his round rosy cheek an affectionate pat.
“No, no, little chap, I’m not Brother Max,” said the voice, sounding somewhat farther away than before, “or any such callow chicken, but a full-grown man.”
“Ah, ha, I know now that it is Cousin Ronald,” laughed Lulu, “for Max would never call himself a callow chicken.”
“I shouldn’t think Cousin Ronald would callhim so either,” said Grace in a hurt tone; “chickens are cowardly and I’m sure Max is not.”
“Better not be too sure, but wait till you see him tried, miss,” said a squeaky little voice, coming seemingly from another part of the vessel.
“Now that’s you, Max, I know, because it is the very same voice we heard at Minersville on the evening of the glorious Fourth,” remarked Lulu with a merry laugh.
Max neither acknowledged nor denied that she was right. Looking up and catching sight of the Stars and Stripes floating from the masthead, “O Lu,” he asked, “do you know who invented our flag—‘old glory,’ as we love to call her?”
“Why, no; who did?”
“A little woman named Betty Ross, a Philadelphia Quakeress. She had a great deal of taste, was particularly fond of red, white, and blue, and adorned many of the apartments we read of in colonial history; the halls of Congress, the governor’s reception-room in Philadelphia, among others. She was acquainted with a number of the great men of the time—Morris, Franklin, Rittenhouse, Adams, and best and greatest of all—our Washington. And she had a brother-in-law, Colonel Ross, who was agallant American officer in the Revolutionary War.
“On the 14th of June, 1777, Congress was considering about a design for a national flag, and it was at once proposed that Betsy Ross should be requested to design one. The committee asked Colonel Ross, Dr. Franklin, and Robert Morris to call upon her. They went and General Washington with them. Mrs. Ross consented, drew the design, and made the first American flag with her own hands. General Washington had showed her a rough design which she said was wrong—the stars having six corners when the right number was but five. She said she didn’t know whether she could make the flag, but would try; which, as I have just said, she did, and succeeded so well that Congress was satisfied with it; and it was the first star-spangled banner that ever floated on the breeze.”
“There was an eagle on that flag, Max, was there not?” asked the captain as the lad paused in his story.
“Yes, sir; a spread eagle with the thirteen stars in a circle of rays of glory. It is said that many eminent men visited Mrs. Ross’ shop while she was at work on the flag and were deeply interested in it.”
“Well,” remarked Lulu thoughtfully, “ifthat flag was flung to the breeze in June of 1777, it is a mistake for people to say that the rough flag made and floated at Fort Schuyler the next fall was the first.”
“Quite true,” said her father, “though probably they—the makers of the Fort Schuyler flag—had not heard of the other and believed theirs to be the first. It is stated that Washington had displayed at Cambridge, Massachusetts, on January 2d, 1776, what might be called the original of our present banner. It had thirteen stripes of red and white with a St. Andrew cross instead of the stars.”
“Was there not another called the rattlesnake flag?” asked Rosie.
“Yes, in two forms: in one the figure was left complete, and under it were the words, ‘Don’t tread on me.’ In the other the snake was in thirteen pieces—in some cases with thirteen rattles—and the legend was ‘Join or die.’”
The captain paused a moment, then went on: “I was reading lately an account taken from an English paper of what was probably the first floating of the American flag in British waters. It was on February 3d, 1783, that the shipBedford, a Massachusetts vessel commanded by Captain Moore, passed Gravesend, and on the 6th she was reported at the custom-house. The Lords of Council and the Commissioners of theCustoms held a consultation, because of the many acts of Parliament still in force against the ‘rebels’ of America—as our British cousins were wont to style us—before allowing her regular entry. She was American built, manned wholly by American seamen, and belonged to Nantucket, Massachusetts.
“The article goes on to say she carried the ‘rebel’ colors and was the first to display the ‘rebellious stripes of America in any British port.’
“But before that the Stars and Stripes had appeared on British soil. A noted philanthropist and sturdy patriot of Philadelphia, named Elkannah Watson, had at the close of the Revolutionary War received four hundred guineas as a wager, and on the same day was dining with the painter Copley, whom he engaged to paint his portrait for the sum of money just obtained from the wager. The portrait was all finished but the background, which they had agreed should represent a ship bearing to America the news of the acknowledgment by the British government of our independence—the Stars and Stripes floating from her gaff and gilded by the rays of the rising sun was still wanting, the painter considering it imprudent to put it there at that time, as his gallery was the resort of royalty and the nobility. Watson speaks of‘the glorious 5th of December, 1782,’ on which he and Copley listened to the speech of the king in which he formally received and recognized the United States of America as one of the nations of the earth. After that Watson went home with the artist to dinner; but before sitting down to the table Copley finished his picture, inviting his company to be present in his studio while ‘with a bold hand, master touch, and American heart’ he attached to the ship the Stars and Stripes.”
“That was displaying what the British had called the rebel colors very promptly upon the king’s acknowledgment, and very near his palace,” remarked Mr. Dinsmore with a smile of grim satisfaction.
“Yes; doubtless a bitter pill for his majesty to swallow,” laughed Rosie.
“Well, he needn’t have had it to swallow if he hadn’t been so tyrannical and obstinate,” remarked Walter. “I remember that Bancroft says, ‘The American struggle was avowedly a war in defence of the common rights of mankind.’”
“That is very true, Walter,” returned his grandfather. “They—the leading men of the time—were a noble band of patriots and lovers of their kind. We have a right to be proud of them.”
“And I am proud of them, sir,” returned the lad, his cheeks glowing and his eyes sparkling.
“That’s right, my little man; everybody should love his country and feel proud of all its people who resist tyranny and stand up boldly for the principle that ‘all men are created equal; that they are endowed by their Creator with certain inalienable rights; that among these are life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness,’” said a strange voice which seemed to come from their rear.
Every one turned to see the speaker; then finding he was not visible, laughed pleasantly.
“I am glad to learn that you are so well acquainted with our glorious Declaration of Independence, Cousin Ronald, and seem to appreciate it so highly,” remarked Grandma Elsie, with a smiling look into the pleasant face of her kinsman.
“Ah, indeed, cousin! are you entirely sure that I am deserving of that compliment?” queried Mr. Lilburn gravely.
“Quite sure,” she returned. “I could hardly have quoted it so correctly myself.”
“But was that my voice, cousin?” he asked.
“One of your voices, I have no doubt,” she replied laughingly.
“Mr. Lilburn,” said Max, “I have been telling some of my comrades of your ventriloquialpowers and they are extremely desirous to witness their exercise. Will you not kindly gratify them while here?”
“Why, laddie, I am hardly more capable in that line than yourself,” laughed the old gentleman.
“But you, sir, are not under authority as I am and so liable to be called to account for your doings.”
“Eh! perhaps not. Well, well, we will be on the lookout for opportunities, you and I. I own I am not averse to gratifying the young folks when I can do so without displeasing their elders.”
A momentarysilence following upon Mr. Lilburn’s remark was broken by a question from Grace. “We are away out in the bay now, aren’t we, papa?” she asked.
“Yes, daughter, and must turn presently, for Max’s leave of absence will be over by the time I can take him back to the Academy.”
“But I may hope to be with you all again to-morrow and the next day, when the graduating exercises are over, may I not, papa?” asked Max.
“I think so; provided you keep out of scrapes,” his father replied, laying a hand affectionately on the lad’s shoulder as he spoke, for Max was now close to his side. “And one evening or the other—both if you like—you may bring some of your mates with you, and perhaps Cousin Ronald and you yourself may be able to entertain them with some exertion of your ventriloquial powers.”
“Oh, thank you, papa,” said Max delightedly; “nothing could be better. Cousin Ronald will, I dare say, make great sport for them, and perhaps I could do a little myself. But whomshall I invite? I am very sure any of them would be delighted to come.”
“I leave the selection to you, my son,” replied the captain. “Choose any whom you think the right sort of company for yourself and us and likely to enjoy being here.”
“Thank you, sir. How many shall I ask?”
“Well, my boy, as we are not expecting to keep them over night, six or eight would not, I think, be more than we can accommodate comfortably.”
“And that will be as many as I care to ask at one time,” Max said with satisfaction. “Hunt will be glad to come, I know, and he’s a nice fellow.”
“You’ll want to ask those who are anxious to make Cousin Ronald’s acquaintance, I presume,” said his father.
“Yes, sir, some of them; if I asked all it would include my whole class besides a good many belonging to the others,” laughed Max.
“Very well,” said his father, “you know about how many we can accommodate, and I leave the selection to you, feeling quite sure that my boy will prefer those of good character for his intimate associates.”
“Yes, indeed, papa, and I thank you very much for trusting me.”
TheDolphinwas presently at her wharfagain and the good-nights had to be said; but, expecting to have Max with them the next day and the day after, even his sisters were not sad over the parting, while the lad himself was jubilant in the pleasant prospect of entertaining his boy friends and comrades on board the yacht. He hurried to his room and filled up the few remaining minutes of the half-hour allowed for recreation before retiring for the night, with giving Hunt, his room-mate, a glowing account of his visit to his father’s vessel, and extending the invitation for the next afternoon and evening, which Hunt accepted promptly and with evident delight.
The next day was spent by most of the party from Woodburn and Ion in walks and drives about the city and its vicinity, varied by some attendance upon the exercises at the Naval Academy; but before tea-time all were on board the yacht again, where they were presently joined by Max and his party.
The lads were all evidently in high good humor and on the tiptoe of expectation, knowing that they were about to make the acquaintance of the ventriloquist of whose tricks Max had told them many an exciting tale.
The introductions were over, all had been comfortably seated, and some few minutes spent in desultory chat, when Hunt, addressingMax, who happened to be his nearest neighbor, asked in a low tone when the show was to begin.
Max smiled and there was a roguish twinkle in his eyes, while at the same instant a voice spoke from behind Hunt, “I say, young fellers in blue, what’s brung so many o’ ye aboard here to oncet?”
There was a simultaneous sudden start and turning of faces and eyes in the direction from which the sounds had come. But the speaker seemed to have instantly disappeared, and the momentary start was followed by a general hearty laugh.
“The captain’s invitation,” replied Hunt, while his eyes and those of the other lads turned upon Mr. Lilburn.
“All right then,” responded the same voice, seeming now to come from a more distant part of the deck; “he owns the yacht and kin ask anybody he’s mind to.”
“Of course,” said Hunt, “and it was very kind in him to ask us. Did he invite you also, sir?”
“None o’ your business,” came in reply in a surly tone.
“Truly a gentlemanly reply,” laughed Hunt. “One might readily infer from it that you were not here by invitation.”
“What do you mean by that, sir?” demanded, the invisible speaker, in loud, angry tones.
“That your conduct and speech proclaim you no gentleman, while Captain Raymond is decidedly such.”
“Come, come, friends, don’t let us have any quarrelling here,” came in pleasant tones from the other side of the vessel.
“Now who are you, sir? This isn’t your fight, and you’d better keep out of it,” returned the first voice; “your interference will be asked for when it’s wanted.”
The lads exchanged looks of surprise and one of them asked:
“Are you doing it all, Mr. Lilburn, sir?”
“Ah ha, ah ha! um h’m, ah ha! so you think ’twas I, young sirs!” exclaimed the old gentleman in pretended astonishment. “And why so? Did the voices issue from my lips?”
“I cannot assert positively that they did, sir,” returned Hunt, “but they seemed to come from an invisible speaker, and knowing you to be a ventriloquist, we think it can all be accounted for in that way.”
“Knowing me to be a ventriloquist, eh, laddie! And may I ask how you came by that same knowledge?”
“Through our friend, a naval cadet like ourselves, Mr. Max Raymond, sir. Do not bevexed with him for telling us. It has excited our admiration and desire to make your acquaintance.”
“Ah, Master Max, so you have been letting these young gentlemen into my secrets?” Mr. Lilburn said, turning toward Max in pretended wrath.
“Yes, sir,” replied Max in cheerful tones, “and the more you show them of your skill in that line the better they will be pleased.”
Just then Max’s dog Prince joined the group, wagging his tail and lifting joyful eyes to his young master’s face.
“Ah, how d’ye do, Prince?” said Max, stroking and patting him. “Are you glad to see me here again?”
“Yes, sir, indeed I am,” were the words that seemed to come in reply from the dog’s lips; “and I wish you’d go back with us when we steam away in this vessel for home.”
“Why, Prince, you talk well indeed for a dog,” laughed Hunt, stroking and patting Prince’s head.
At that instant there was a frightened cry, “Oh, sic’ a fall as I shall hae!” followed instantly by a sound as of the plunge of a heavy body from the side of the vessel into the water.
All started to their feet, several of the men and boys shouting in tones of alarm, “A manoverboard!” and Captain Raymond was about to issue an order for the launching of a boat, when a glance at Mr. Lilburn deterred him.
“No occasion, captain,” laughed the old gentleman; “you could never find that poor unfortunate fellow.”
“No, I presume not,” returned the captain, echoing the laugh as he and the others reseated themselves.
“Huh! that’s an old trick o’ yours, old feller,” cried the very same voice that had been heard behind Hunt’s chair. “If I couldn’t invent suthin’ new I’d give up the business.”
“So I think I shall—for to-night, at least,” returned Cousin Ronald, but in a disguised voice that seemed to come from a distance.
Then Walter went to his side and whispered in his ear.
Mr. Lilburn smiled and seemed to assent, but at that instant the call to the supper-table put an end to the sport for the time.
There was some of the same sort of diversion at the table, however, a roast fowl resenting, with a loud squawk, the captain’s attempt to carve it; Prince asking audibly for a share when the plates were filled, and the voice that had been heard talking on deck to the “young fellers in blue” preferring the same request.
These tricks, though old to the others, werenew to the cadets and caused a good deal of merriment; as did the buzzing bees, peeping chick, barking pups, and squealing pigs that seemed to have taken possession of the deck on their return thither.
At length these sounds were replied to by a loud and furious barking coming apparently from some remote part of the deck, and to which Prince immediately made response in kind, at the same time rushing away in search of the intruder.
“A pretty time you’ll have finding that newcomer, Prince,” Walter called after him.
But the words were hardly spoken when a third loud bark was heard coming apparently from yet another quarter, and Prince, repeating his, rushed in that direction; then three or four dogs seemed, from the sounds, to be barking, snarling, yelping as though a furious canine fight was in progress; though nothing could be seen of the combatants except the huge form of Prince as he searched in vain for the intruders of his race.
But the noise woke the little ones who had been put to bed in the cabin below, and a frightened wail from them brought a sudden hush, while Violet rose hastily and hurried down the companionway to sooth and reassure her darlings.
That put an end to the ventriloquial sport, and the remainder of the short time allowed for the visit of the cadets was spent in more quiet fashion, desultory talk and the singing of songs.
They had been steaming down the river and bay and back again while they talked and sang; the wharf was reached shortly after nine o’clock and the lads returned safely and in good season to the Academy.
They one and all expressed themselves as highly delighted with their visit to the yacht and were very enthusiastic in their praises of the ladies; particularly Grandma Elsie and Violet, whom they pronounced the sweetest, most beautiful and charming women of their acquaintance.
They felt acquainted with them now, they said, for after Cousin Ronald and Max had ceased their ventriloquial performances they had had an opportunity to talk with the ladies as well as to listen to the music with which they kindly entertained them.
“I have always thought you a fortunate fellow, Max,” remarked Hunt as they were preparing for bed, “and since seeing the yacht and that young grandmother and stepmother of yours, I am more fully convinced of it than ever. I was just going to say I wondered at so young and lovely a creature as Mrs. Raymondmarrying a man with a son of your age, and two other children not young enough to be her own; but remembering what your father is—so handsome, noble-looking, so entirely everything any one could ask or desire—I do not wonder at all at her choice. In fact, she may consider herself quite as fortunate as he in the selection of a partner for life.”
“So I think,” responded Max heartily; “for to me it seems that my father’s superior—indeed, I might say his equal—is not to be found anywhere; and I know Mamma Vi would agree with me. I have never known him speak a hasty, sharp, or unkind word to her, and he waits upon her as gallantly as he could possibly have done in the days of their courtship.
“As to the children left him by my own mother—my father promised before marrying Mamma Vi that she should have no care or trouble in regard to them; that he would take all that upon himself; and so he has and does; when he has been at home with us we have always felt that he did. So it is no wonder if we esteem him the dearest and best of fathers; while Mamma Vi is hardly a mother, but more like an older sister to us—unless it may be to Grace, the youngest of our set.”
Here the signal for the extinguishing of lights and retiring to rest put a stop to the conversation,and in a very few minutes the lads were soundly sleeping.
One more day was spent at Annapolis by the Woodburn and Ion people; then an early evening train carried the latter party northward, and an hour later theDolphinsteamed away with the others.
Walter and Rosie would have been glad to go with their mother, but she and their grandfather had decided that it would be better for them to continue their studies for the present, as the time for the summer holidays was not distant; and like the well-trained, affectionate children they were, they submitted cheerfully to her decision, determining to make the best possible use of their opportunity for education.
Their mother expected to be at home again in a fortnight, or sooner, but they had rarely been separated from her for even a day, and the parting was a trial to both. They bore it bravely, however, slept well that night on board the yacht, and rose the next morning apparently as gay and light-hearted as their wont.
They were both early on deck, where they found the captain and Lulu together, watching the sun just peeping above the waver far away to the east.
“Good-morning, brother Levis and Lu,” called Rosie, tripping across the deck in theirdirection. “I thought Walter and I were extremely early, but there is no use in anybody trying to get ahead of you two in early rising.”
“Good-morning, little sister,” responded the captain, turning toward her with his pleasant smile. “There was no occasion for you and Walter to leave your couches quite so early this morning, or for either of you to do so. I believe Lulu and I happen to be of the kind who need a little less sleep than do many others.”
“Yes,” said Lulu, with a loving look up into her father’s face, “papa would let me sleep another hour if I wanted to, but I almost always wake early and do so enjoy the little time that it gives me with him before the others are up and wanting some of his attention for themselves.”
“I don’t wonder,” said Walter, “for I like to be with mamma the first thing in the morning dearly well.”
The boy’s voice sounded a little choked at the last, and he dropped his eyes lest the others should see the sudden tears welling up in them.
The captain laid a kind hand on the lad’s shoulder. “If our dear mother is awake now she is doubtless thinking lovingly of her youngest son and asking God to bless and keep him from all evil. You may hope to see her again in about two weeks, which will pass very quickly, and in the mean time let us think of all we canaccomplish to give her pleasure on her return,” he said. “Shall we not, little brother?”
“Yes, oh, yes, sir!” replied Walter, looking up brightly into the pleasant face above him. “I mean to study hard and keep all your rules carefully, so that you can give her a good account of my conduct and recitations. Oh, there’s the sun just entirely up out of the water! What a grand sight it is!”
“One that I never weary of,” said Captain Raymond in a meditative tone and gazing eastward upon the newly risen luminary as he spoke. “It reminds me of Him who is called the Sun of righteousness, because He is the quickener, comforter, and illuminator of His people.”
“Papa, didn’t people in the Old Testament times worship the sun?” asked Lulu.
“Yes,” replied her father, “it is thought that the Moloch of the Ammonites, the Chemosh of the Moabites, and the Baal of the Phœnicians was the sun.”
“I remember that the Israelites also sometimes wandered away from the true God and worshipped Baal,” remarked Walter; “that Elijah the prophet slew of Baal’s prophets four hundred and fifty men; and that afterward Jehu filled a house with Baal’s prophets, priests, and worshippers and had them all put to death.”
“Yes,” the captain said, “that was in accordancewith the command of God given in Deuteronomy, seventeenth chapter. I will read it to you,” he added, taking a small Bible from his pocket. Turning to the passage he read:
“If there be found among you, within any of thy gates which the Lord thy God giveth thee, man or woman that hath wrought wickedness in the sight of the Lord thy God, in transgressing his covenant, and hath gone and served other gods, and worshipped them, either the sun or moon, or any of the host of heaven, which I have not commanded, and it be told thee and thou hast heard of it, and inquired diligently, and behold it be true, and the thing certain that such abomination is wrought in Israel; then shalt thou bring forth that man or that woman, which have committed that wicked thing, unto thy gates, even that man or that woman, and shalt stone them with stones till they die.”
“That gives us some insight into God’s hatred of idolatry,” remarked the captain, closing the book.
“Yes, sir,” said Rosie. “I am reading Deuteronomy just now in my regular course. I was at the fourth chapter yesterday, and was struck with what is said there about the worship of images. Won’t you turn to the chapter and read it aloud to us, brother Levis?”
“Certainly,” he replied, opening the book again and turning to the passage to which she had referred. Beginning at the fifteenth verse he read:
“Take ye therefore good heed unto yourselves; for ye saw no similitude on the day that the Lord spake unto you in Horeb out of the midst of the fire; lest ye corrupt yourselves, and make you a graven image, the similitude of any figure, the likeness of male or female, the likeness of any beast that is on the earth, the likeness of any winged fowl that flieth in the air, the likeness of anything that creepeth on the ground, the likeness of any fish that is in the waters beneath the earth: and lest thou lift up thine eyes unto heaven, and when thou seest the sun and the moon, and the stars, even all the host of heaven, shouldest be driven to worship them, and serve them, which the Lord thy God hath divided unto all nations under the whole heaven.... Take heed unto yourselves, lest ye forget the covenant of the Lord your God, which he made with you, and make you a graven image, or the likeness of anything which the Lord thy God hath forbidden thee. For the Lord thy God is a consuming fire, even a jealous God. When thou shalt beget children and children’s children, and ye shall have remained long in the land, and shall corrupt yourselves,and make a graven image or the likeness of anything, and shall do evil in the sight of the Lord thy God, to provoke him to anger; I call heaven and earth to witness against you this day, that ye shall soon utterly perish from off the land whereunto ye go over Jordan to possess it; ye shall not prolong your days upon it but shall utterly be destroyed.”
“I would have you all notice,” the captain said, again closing the book and speaking with earnestness, “how plainly and repeatedly God forbids the worship of images, likenesses, or of any of the creatures or things he hath made; how repeatedly and expressly he commands us to worship him and him alone.”
“Ah, no wonder that the popish priests forbid their people to read the Bible for themselves,” said Rosie, “for from it they would soon learn the wickedness of bowing down to and worshipping images, crucifixes, and pictures.”
“Yes,” replied Captain Raymond, “and I would far sooner lay my children in the grave, dearly, dearly as I love them, than to see them bowing down to images and pictures; serving ‘gods the work of men’s hands, wood and stone, which neither see, nor hear, nor eat, nor smell.’ How precious is the promise that follows in that same chapter, ‘But if from thence thou shalt seek the Lord thy God, thou shalt findhim, if thou seek him with all thy heart and with all thy soul. When thou art in tribulation and all these things are come upon thee, even in the latter days, if thou turn to the Lord thy God, and shalt be obedient unto his voice (for the Lord thy God is a merciful God), he will not forsake thee, neither destroy thee nor forget the covenant of thy fathers which he sware unto them.’
“Verily I believe that we of the Anglo-Saxon nations are the literal descendants of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob—God’s own chosen people—so that we have the strongest claim to these precious promises; but let us never forget that they are ours only as we fulfil the prescribed conditions; without true repentance and true faith we shall no more be saved than those of other nations who do not seek the Lord while he may be found and call upon him while he is near.”
Just then little feet came pit-pat across the deck, a sweet child voice calling out, “Good-morning, papa, dear papa, I’s an early bird too, isn’t I?”
“Quite an early bird for such a wee one,” the captain answered, holding out his arms, then as she sprang into them clasping her close and kissing her fondly again and again; the next moment doing the same by Grace, who had followed closely in Elsie’s wake.
The rest of their party soon joined them, then came breakfast and family worship; after those an hour or two on deck; then the vessel steamed into the harbor, her passengers landed and found the Woodburn carriage in waiting, with those from Fairview and Ion; Edward and Zoe with their twin babies in the one, Lester and Elsie Leland, with their two boys, in the other.
Affectionate greetings were exchanged, and soon all were on their homeward way. They found the drive delightful, the roads in excellent condition, gardens, fields, and woods arrayed in all the luxuriant verdure and bloom of the month of roses.
The children in the Woodburn carriage seemed full of mirth and jollity.
“Really I don’t believe anyone of you is sorry to be nearing home again,” their father said, regarding them with eyes full of paternal affection and pleasure in their evident enjoyment.
“No, indeed, papa,” cried the little girls in chorus, while Ned said in his baby fashion: “I’s blad, papa; my home is a dood place; me ’ikes it, me does.”
“Mamma echoes that sentiment, baby boy,” laughed Violet, giving the little fellow a hug. “There’s no place like home; home with dear papa and all the dear sisters in it.”
“Bruver Maxie too?” returned the little fellow in a tone between inquiry and assertion.
“Ah, no; not just now,” Violet answered with a slight sigh, for she loved Max and missed his cheery presence in the house.
“Ah, here we are!” the captain exclaimed presently as the carriage turned into the driveway.
“And everything is looking oh, so lovely!” cried Lulu, clapping her hands with delight. “And there is Marian on the veranda, waiting for us.”
The other two carriages were not far behind. It had been arranged that all should dine together at Woodburn; so they also turned in at the gates, and presently all had alighted and were one after the other warmly greeting Marian. She was glad to learn that Mr. Lilburn had been invited to make Woodburn his home for some weeks and had accepted the invitation, so that she would see much of him for a time at least and become better acquainted. He had been so kind to her that she felt already a warm affection for him as a near and dear relative.