EFFECT OF IMAGINATION.
[This, with the account of the New Berlin Prostitute, was communicated to me by my friend, Mrs. E. W. Farnham.]
In a remote hamlet in one of the then young Western States, Mrs. F. became acquainted with a family which included nearly a dozen members, and nearly all married, and settled within easy distance of the old homestead. The sexes were pretty equallydivided, each and every one of these young men and women being in appearance and character below mediocrity, with one exception. The latter was a young girl about nineteen years old, who was so evidently and remarkably superior both in personal appearance and nature, that it did not seem possible she could belong to the same family. Beside the heavy, coarse faces of her brothers and sisters, hers was angelic in its graceful contour, long-fringed lids and refined, expressive mouth. The very curly hair, which resembled the mother’s only in its curliness, had a golden glint that removed it by several degrees of relationship from the wiry red on one side and faded black on the other, which crowned the broad, low heads of the gruff brothers and two drowsy-looking married sisters who were at this time home on a long visit.
This girl, now the successful teacher of the district-school, filled her place in the always untidy, dilapidated household, unconscious of being an anomaly. She had made some effort to brighten the dingy walls, and here and there the uneven floor of the living-room was concealed by pretty rag-mats of her making.
Notwithstanding the inferiority of the family as a whole, there was a general friendliness among the members, proceeding from the rough, but unfailing deference shown by the father to the mother. Nelly’s wishes received a sort of grumbling attention, and heropinion was quoted as having weight. Still, owing to the very refined character of her attractions, they were evidently to a great extent overlooked by all but her mother.
Mrs. F. was a long while in getting hold of any clue that would explain this phenomenon.
No, Nelly was not born in that low dwelling under the shadow of those catalpas, but in a poorer shanty in Northern Tennessee.
No, there were no nice people thereabouts; no kind Methodist preacher visited them. They were sort of outside the “circuit.”
No, there was no school-teacher boarded with them. There was quite a spell when there was a quarrel about whose land the school-house occupied, and school didn’t keep more than three months any way.
In view of so much content in the midst of so much dirt and disorder, it did not seem worth while to ask if any one had lent her books which pleased her. However, the conversation evidently recalled pleasant memories, for the weather-beaten countenance of the kind-hearted old woman suddenly lit up, and her small eyes twinkled with happy light as she said:
“We were awful poor about those times, and there was no look-out for anything better. Some of the boys had come up here to see if they couldn’t get better land. But we had no money to buy it with if therewas, and there was a book I must tell you about—a book that lifted me right out of myself. You see there came along a peddler—’twas a wonder how he ever got to such an out-of-the-way place—well, he unpacked his traps, and among them was a little book with a lovely green and gold cover. ’Twas the sweetest little thing you ever saw, and there was just the nicest picture in the front. I saw ’twas poetry, and on the first page it said, ‘The Lady of the Lake;’ that was all. Ididwant that book, and I had a couple of dollars in a stocking-foot on the chimney-shelf, but a dollar was a big thing then, and I didn’t feel as if I ought to indulge myself, so I said no, and saw him pack up his things and travel.
“Then I could think of nothing but that book the rest of the day, I wanted it so bad, and at night I couldn’t sleep for thinking of it. At last I got up, and without making a bit of noise, dressed myself, and walked four miles to Scranton Centre, where the peddler had told me he should stay that night—at the Browns—friends of ours, they were, and I got him up, and bought the book, and brought it back with me, just as contented and satisfied as you can believe. I looked it over and through, put it under my pillow, and slept soundly till morning.
“The next day I began to read the beautiful story. Every page took that hold of me that I forgot all about the pretty cover, and perhaps you wouldn’t believeit, but before Nelly was born, if you would but give me a word here and there, I could begin at the beginning, and say it clear through to the end. It appeared to me I was there with those people by the lakes in the mountains—with Allan bane and his harp, Ellen Douglas, Malcolm Graeme, Fitz-James, and the others. I saw Ellen’s picture before me when I was milking the cow, or cooking on the hearth, or weeding the little garden. There she was, stepping about so sweetly in the rhyme, that I felt it to be all true as the day, more true after I could repeat it to myself. And then when I found my baby grew into such a pretty girl, and so smart too, it seemed as if Providence had been ever so good to me again. But children are mysteries any way. I’ve wondered a thousand times why Nelly was such a lady, and why she loved to learn so much more than the other children. She has read to me ever since she was ten years old, and she’s got quite a lot of books there, you see, ma’am. She’s mighty fond of poetry, too.”
To illustrate the advantages of healthful duties and self-esteem, and the evils following want of occupation, I will give the experience of an old friend, a former resident of this State. For convenience I will call her Mrs. Hosmer.
This daughter of an orderly and peaceful home, in Western New York, became engaged when quite young to an intelligent young man, who afterward became foreman in her father’s iron-works. Several years elapsed before the young man felt at liberty to take on himself the cares and expenses of a family. He sought to expedite matters by obtaining a California agency from a large hardware establishment. This took him from home, and pending the decision, he became intimately acquainted with another young woman possessing marked personal attractions, different entirely from those of his long timefiancée. News of his supposed disloyalty reached his betrothed simultaneously with his return to his native town with the agency in his pocket—ready for the ceremony, and removal to California. The beauty, and alert, independent ways of the young woman in question, were set forth to the betrothed in a manner calculated to depress her own self-esteem, and raise a doubt of her lover’s satisfaction in her, but not enough doubt, she thought, to justify an explanation, or to impede the marriage, which therefore took place at once.
In San Francisco, Mrs. Hosmer found herself in what are considered most fortunate circumstances,i. e., she had nothing to do, and had no need of doing anything. She was a born housekeeper and a skillful cook, but in a boarding-house these talents remained unexercised.She was a neat and swift seamstress, but her mother having supplied her with the usual superfluity of garments included in a wedding outfit, her talent lay dormant in this direction also. Then she was amongst strangers, shy, and unacquainted with others needing assistance. So, while her husband was at his place of business, her sole thought was—bearing in mind her imaginary rival—Is Martin satisfied with me? Is he happy? Will he think this dress becoming to me?
Mr. Hosmer went and came, wholly ignorant of the doubt in his wife’s mind. He was now jovial and unreserved, now abstracted and anxious, as business promised success or failure; but always gentle and considerate with his wife. The latter was a sisterly rather than a wifely person. There was, therefore, a lack of spontaneity in the union, yet no real unhappiness on either side.
In due time a babe was born—a girl—my acquaintance with whom commenced when she was about eighteen; a fair, graceful creature, with a small head on a large, well-proportioned body, soft, helpless, imploring blue eyes, a rosebud mouth, and a peculiar, plaintive tone in her speaking voice.
She had just left a private school, where for years she had gone through books mechanically, coached for examinations by her good-natured, brighter companions. She wrote a neat hand and a limited amount of correctEnglish. But she could never explain a page of her natural philosophy or algebra, and could notreasonon any subject more profound than the making of a dress or the dressing of her hair. She was an amiable, affectionate, incapable, timid girl, who always leaned on others for support.
Now, this weak-minded girl had a sister two years her junior, as unlike, except in the color of her hair, eyes, and complexion, as any two persons could be. Where Rosy was insignificantly pretty, Charlotte was commandingly handsome. Firmness, courage, self-reliance, reasoning faculty, she had in marked measure. She was already through the high-school studies, taking a year’s rest between that and the university, while her mother made the long-wished-for visit East; delighted to be mistress of the house, since she was practically skilled in domestic arts herself.
Having previously learned the circumstances that had so impressed themselves on Rosa, I longed to understand how Mrs. Hosmer was situated before the birth of her second daughter.
“Were you still boarding when you were pregnant with Charlotte?” I asked, one day. “She carries herself with so much dignity, she has so much conscious power that it does not seem as if she could be related to Rosy.”
“Bless you, no,” she replied, laughing. “We werekeeping house then, and I had the sole care of Captain Rimes’ three children. Their mother had died, you remember. Father sent me our old Nora, and she was a great help to me. Still, I had plenty of responsibility, and not a little labor besides. But I had gotten over all my fears about Martin’s not being happy. He fairly worshiped Rosy, and was so proud when people called her a fairy, as they always did. People said we were the handsomest couple that walked up the aisle in Starr King’s church. Then, principally, I had no time tomaketrouble by analyzing my face in the glass and proving to myself that I was a fright, as I used to do.”
Jannette, a well-balanced, conscientious young woman, had married a sign-painter, who kept strictly within the limits of his business. She had now three children, healthy, nice-looking, docile children, but without any special characteristics. They had been living in a rented house, but now Jannette’s father, having met with success in some business venture, purchased for his daughter a good lot, on which they were able to build a moderate house. Mrs. T. at this time was pregnant with her fourth child, and she entered, with the zest such good fortune would naturally call out, into the planning and replanning the new home, so as to secure the maximum of space, comfort, and architecturalbeauty out of their modest means. With this her thoughts were occupied during the day, and the evenings were passed advising together over the height of doors and windows, the odd spaces for closets, the precise wood for the different floors. This was during the latter half of the rainy season. The storms once over, the lumber was hauled, and the house put up forthwith.
It now became necessary, with the last remnant of the savings before her, as basis and limit to her operations, to calculate what, of the new furniture needed, could be bought. The papering also must be considered.
“I want a touch of what is called the artistic in our room and the sitting-room, if we can’t do more. Let me help to choose the wall-paper.Ishall have to see it every minute of the day,” she said.
A first-class Brussels carpet, somewhat worn, was bought at auction. This was so remodeled as to appear new and elegant. A fringed lambrequin for the mantel-shelf (which wasnotmarble); a few pretty, but cheap, brackets; a few photographs of fine paintings, which had lain out of sight for years, made into passe-partouts, and hung judiciously. Pretty imitation chintz curtains, with lambrequin top, for the bed-room; sheer muslin, lined with Turkey-red, for the living-room; well-fitting chintz covers for the old couch and armchair, the colors made to harmonize with carpet andwall-paper, which latter was, of course, neutral-tinted; a hanging-basket, already well-filled and growing, in each window; a few inexpensive, urn-shaped vases for flowers; a graceful evening lamp. This last Jannette feared an extravagance, but “it will be so restful to our eyes; think of it, dear,everyevening.”
When all was ready, a house-warming was given, and was not our little wife proud of her success? She really had not realized before her own talent and good taste. “I am sure, Mr. T., you must have spent hundreds of dollars on all this,” said Mr. T.’s partner’s wife, who frowned severely on all extravagance. Jannette shook her head and smiled.
And now, in a few weeks, all was ready for the newcomer—Master Thomas Bliss Trescott, as he was named. In after years the mother still remembered the pleasure she had had in the arrangement of their lovely home, but she did not connect that fact with the sterling intellect and marked artistic ability of her fourth child (and second son), notwithstanding that he was seen by all to be head and shoulders above the rest in all that makes a man.