CHAPTER XVII.ADVERSITY.
THE first act of Mr. Hapley, after Benny was laid in the frozen ground, was one that gave new hope to the sorrowing household. At his request, the clergyman of the village had previously written a pledge of total abstinence from all intoxicating liquor, which the afflicted father signed upon the coffin of his boy. On returning from the funeral, he collected together all the alcoholic liquors in the house, consisting of cider, whiskey and brandy, and taking them into the yard, poured them out upon the snow. As Mrs. Hapley and the children gazed upon this novel scene, they almost forgot their bereavement, in the new hopes and joys which seemed now about to be bestowed upon them. And well might they take courage. Mr. Hapleyhad thus far sacredly kept his promise to Benny. He was very sad, and his limbs were weak and trembling, and there was a terrible craving and gnawing within, that neither food nor ordinary drink could satisfy; still he struggled manfully against the tempter, and friends not a few stood by, with words of encouragement and cheer. Indeed, with his sober and subdued air, his clean-shaven face, and the general tidiness of his personal appearance, he already seemed like a different man.
The reformation of Mr. Hapley was much talked of among his neighbors and acquaintances, and very different opinions were expressed as to its permanence. It was generally thought that he would persevere, but there were some who had little faith in his good purposes. Old Mr. Todd, who held a mortgage on his farm, and who was regarded as quite an oracle, shook his head in a knowing manner, when the matter was mentioned at the post office, one morning.
“I’ve known Charles Hapley,” said he, “ever since he was a boy, and I knew his father before him. The old man had the best farm in town, but the family has been gradually running down thesetwenty years, and it’s my opinion that Hapley will die a drunkard, as his father did.”
“Now, Squire,” said an elderly and benevolent looking man, who was seated on the counter, “it appears to me you are a little too hard on Hapley. They say he’s stuck it out for more’n a week, and not touched a drop of anything, and that’s doing pretty well, for him. I hold that we all ought to encourage the poor fellow along, and not go around predicting that he’ll die a drunkard.”
“So do I hold to encouraging him along,” replied Mr. Todd; “but at the same time I don’t believe it will do any good. He never did have any control over himself, from a boy, and I don’t believe he’s going to keep the bridle on a great while, now. You see if he does, that’s all.”
“Guess the old man means to step in there,” said some one, as Mr. Todd went his way.
“Yes, it’s plain enough what he’s after,” said another.
The speakers alluded to Mr. Todd’s taking possession of the Hapley farm, on account of the non-payment of his mortgage. Their conclusion was not a very charitable one, to be sure. Nor was it exactlykind in Mr. Todd to predict with so much assurance the relapse of Mr. Hapley. Still, it must be admitted that he had pretty strong ground for his opinion, though he need not have been so free to express it. The lesson of self-government is a hard one to learn in mature life, especially to a man who has for many years been tyrannized over by depraved appetites and passions. The position of such a man is something like that of Mazeppa, the young page of a Polish king, who for some offence was lashed, naked, to the back of a wild horse, which was then set free, and plunged with frightful speed through forest and plain into his native country, bearing his helpless and well-nighlifeless rider with him. But when the appetites and passions are the ruled, and not the rulers, they may be compared to the same steed, tamed and docile, bridled and saddled, and ready to do your bidding. Mazeppa, it is true, had the good fortune to survive the painful ordeal, and lived to become a prince; but we think few would be willing to run such a race, even for such a prize, except upon the wild horses of their own ungovernable passions.
But Mr. Todd proved a true prophet, in this instance. In less than a fortnight after Benny’s death, Mr. Hapley came home from the village one afternoon sadly intoxicated. How he happened to fall, was never explained to the family. He had been to the store where liquors were sold, on business, and probably the wretched sensation in his stomach, aided by the sight and smell of the tempter, the associations of the place, and perhaps the coaxings of the drunkard-maker, suddenly swept away the breastwork of good purposes he had erected. He tasted—he fell; and what a death-blow was that act to the hopes and peace of his poor wife and children! To Mrs. Hapley andJessie, especially, it seemed as if the last hope had been swept away.
The next day, when Mr. Hapley realized his situation, he was overcome with grief and shame. He was, moreover, discouraged. He had lost both his self-respect and his self-reliance. He had no longer any confidence in his ability to keep the pledge. Meanwhile his thirst for the deadly liquid was growing more insupportable for the fresh stimulus it had received. In this pitiable state of mind and body, he went again in the afternoon to the rum-shop, and attempted to drown his sorrow in a still deeper potation. Towards night, a severe snow-storm set in, but he did not return. Hour after hour did his wife sit at the fire, after the children had retired, listening for his return; but the wild shriek of the wind, as the storm waxed more furious, and the sharp rattle of the snow against the window panes, were the only sounds she heard. At length, when it was almost midnight, unable longer to bear the terrible suspense, she aroused Henry from his sleep, and told him to go over to Mrs. Page’s, and ask Marcus if he would not take a horse and go in search of the missing man. Theboy dressed himself, and plunged into the huge snow-drifts. He had not proceeded far, however, before he began to doubt whether he should be able either to go on or to return. Blinded by the driving storm, transfixed by cutting blasts, the divisions between roads and fields quite obliterated, and floundering in snow up to his arm-pits, he sank exhausted, more than once, into the hole he had made; but with the energy of despair, he again aroused himself, and at length reached Mrs. Page’s door-steps.
After considerable effort, some of the family were aroused, and Marcus, on learning Henry’s errand, at once prepared to go out in search of his father. He concluded he could get along best on horseback; and putting a bridle on Charley, the toughest of the two horses, he mounted him, and taking Henry behind him, carried him home. He then set out for the village, by the route Mr. Hapley had probably taken, which led him directly into the teeth of the storm. But he found it impossible to keep in the road, and his horse soon began to sink into old drifts newly buried, and to flounder among invisible stones, stumps, fences and pitfalls,until, at last, the exhausted creature seemed unable to proceed further. Marcus was accordingly obliged to give up the search, of which fact he informed Mrs. Hapley, before returning home.
The storm moderated in the morning, but owing to the state of the roads, several hours elapsed before arrangements could be made to search for the missing man. In the course of the forenoon, he was found, about a quarter of a mile from the road, sitting in his sleigh, with the reins in his hands; but the rider and his horse were both frozen stiff. The horse had apparently been thrown down by a log, and was unable to rise without assistance, which the unfortunate rider was too insensible or too benumbed to render. So they perished there alone, and were well-nigh buried from sight before they were discovered. A jug of rum, found in the sleigh, furnished a sad clue to the catastrophe, had any been needed.
The next day, a new grave was opened in the frozen earth, by the side of Benny’s, and the father was laid close by the son he had so lately promised to meet in heaven, and to whom he had pledged himself to a reformed life. O, how sad issuchafuneral, when hope, and honor, and happiness, are consigned to the tomb with the remains of the lost! Truly, in such a case “’tis the survivor dies.”
It is often said that misfortunes never come singly. So, indeed, did it prove in the case of this family. The property left by Mr. Hapley was barely sufficient to pay his debts; and as most of it was mortgaged, very little remained for the family. Notwithstanding these reverses, Jessie continued to attend the academy, and was still “trying to be somebody,” as Abby Leonard contemptuously expressed it, though that young lady, it should be added, now manifested something like pity for the heart-stricken girl. And in spite of the drawbacks to which she had been subjected, Jessie maintained a high rank in her class, winning the respect alike of teachers and scholars, as she also did their sympathy and good-will. But there were few among her gay-hearted school-mates who could half realize the sorrows, and disappointments, and discouragements, that were mingled in her cup.
On returning from school one afternoon, she found traces of weeping on the face of her mother, which the latter for a time declined to explain.The reason, however, came out after a while. On the death of Mr. Hapley, as he left no will, an administrator was appointed, according to law, to settle up his estate; that is, to take charge of the property, ascertain and pay the debts, and deliver the balance, if any, to the lawful heirs. This administrator was a kind-hearted man named Allen, who had always shown himself very friendly to Mrs. Hapley. It seemed Mr. Allen had called upon her, that afternoon, to talk about her husband’s affairs. There was, he said, but little more than sufficient property to pay off the mortgages. He advised her, therefore, to give up the farm, to sell all the personal property they could dispense with, and to find homes for herself and children elsewhere. The children, he said, were all old enough to support themselves, and she need have no one but herself to look out for.
“Well, mother, that’s only what I expected,” said Jessie, when the matter was explained; “we couldn’t carry on the farm, if we should stay here, and we may as well go somewhere else. Grandpa said he would give you a home; Henry can get a chance to live with some farmer, and work for hisboard and clothes; Sam can earn his living, if he chooses to; and as for me, I will go to some factory town and work in a mill, and in a little time I shall be able to support you, as well as myself.”
“And give up your hope of becoming a teacher?” inquired her mother.
“Perhaps not,” replied Jessie. “I may be able to fit myself for teaching, even in a mill. Girlshavedone such things, and why not I?”
“But I never can let you go off alone into a factory,” said Mrs. Hapley. “If you go, I must go, too.”
“Well, mother,” added Jessie, after a pause, “we’ll manage to get along some how, only don’t let us get discouraged. We know it is all for the best, and every thing will come out right in the end. When I feel sad, I repeat to myself that beautiful hymn Mr. Merrill read at Benny’s funeral—do you remember it, mother?” and Jessie recited the following verses:—
“O Father, good or evil send,As seemeth best to thee,And teach my stubborn soul to bendIn love to thy decree.“Whatever come, if thou wilt blessThe brightness and the gloom,And temper joy, and soothe distress,I fear no earthly doom.“Life cannot give a cureless sting,Death can but crown my bliss,And waft me far, on angel’s wing,To perfect happiness.”
“O Father, good or evil send,As seemeth best to thee,And teach my stubborn soul to bendIn love to thy decree.“Whatever come, if thou wilt blessThe brightness and the gloom,And temper joy, and soothe distress,I fear no earthly doom.“Life cannot give a cureless sting,Death can but crown my bliss,And waft me far, on angel’s wing,To perfect happiness.”
“O Father, good or evil send,As seemeth best to thee,And teach my stubborn soul to bendIn love to thy decree.
“O Father, good or evil send,
As seemeth best to thee,
And teach my stubborn soul to bend
In love to thy decree.
“Whatever come, if thou wilt blessThe brightness and the gloom,And temper joy, and soothe distress,I fear no earthly doom.
“Whatever come, if thou wilt bless
The brightness and the gloom,
And temper joy, and soothe distress,
I fear no earthly doom.
“Life cannot give a cureless sting,Death can but crown my bliss,And waft me far, on angel’s wing,To perfect happiness.”
“Life cannot give a cureless sting,
Death can but crown my bliss,
And waft me far, on angel’s wing,
To perfect happiness.”
Jessie’s uncomplaining spirit, her readiness to sacrifice her most cherished hopes, and her beautiful, child-like faith in God, shed a sweet and soothing influence upon the fainting and murmuring heart of the mother. A little while after, Henry came in from school, and for a moment looked rather sad, when he was told that the family had got to remove and be broken up, very soon; but he quickly recovered his good spirits, saying:—
“Well, mother, I don’t care much, after all. Let Mr. Todd have the old farm if he wants it—it’s all run out, and we couldn’t do anything if we staid here. I know I can earn my living, if anybody will give me a chance, and one of these days I’ll have a good deal better farm than this—you see if I don’t! Then you and Jessie shall come and live with me, and we’ll all be together again.”
Henry soon found a chance to earn his living, for Mr. Allen agreed to take him into his family at once, and maintain him in return for his services. As to Jessie, everybody said it was too bad to send her off to a mill, and after some little consultation, Mrs. Page proposed a plan by which this might be avoided. Ellen Blake, who had lived with the Page family for some time, was about to return home, on account of the sickness of her mother. It was proposed to let Jessie occupy her place in the family, working for her board, until she should finish preparing herself for a teacher. She was to attend the academy two or three terms more, and when not engaged in her studies, was to render all the assistance to Mrs. Page she could. Her mother was to clothe her, during this period, and it was thought that after the present term she could render some assistance in the lower department, and thus secure her own tuition free. When this plan was proposed to Jessie, she seemed very grateful for the kindness which prompted so liberal an offer, but was unwilling to accept of it, fearing she could make no adequate return for her board. It was only after considerable persuasion that she consentedto the arrangement. When the matter was finally settled, Mrs. Hapley concluded to accept an invitation to go to her father’s, in a neighboring town, and make that her home until she could do something for her own support.