Mind Amongst the Spindles — Harriet Greenough

DRYDEN'S VIRGIL.

Harriet Greenough had always been thought a spoiled child, when she left home for Newburyport.

Her father was of the almost obsolete class of farmers, whose gods are their farms, and whose creed--"Farmers are the most independent folks in the world."

This latter was none the less absolute in its power over Mr. Greenough, from its being entirely traditionary.

He often repeated a vow made in early life, that he would never wear other than "homespun" cloth.

When asked his reasons, he invariably answered, "Because I won't depend on others for what I can furnish myself.

Farmers are the most independent class of men; and I mean to be the most independent of farmers."

--If for a moment he felt humbled by the presence of a genteel well-educated man, it was only for a moment.

He had only to recollect that farmers are the most independent class of people, and his head resumed its wonted elevation, his manner and tone their usual swaggering impudence.

While at school he studied nothing but reading, spelling, arithmetic, and writing.

Latterly, his reading had been restricted to a chapter in the Bible per day, and an occasional examination of the almanac.

He did not read his Bible from devotional feeling--for he had none; but that he might puzzle the "book men" of the village with questions like the following:--"Now I should like to have you tell me one thing: How _could_ Moses write an account of his own death and burial?

Can you just tell me where Cain and Abel found their wives?

What verse is there in the Bible that has but two words in it?

Who was the father of Zebedee's children?

How many chapters has the New Testament?

--How many verses, and how many words?"

Inability or disinclination to answer any and all of these, made the subject of a day's laughter and triumph.

Nothing was so appalling to him as innovations on old customs and opinions.

"These notions, that the earth turns round, and the sun stands still; that shooting stars are nothing but little meteors, I think they call them, are turning the heads of our young folks," he was accustomed to say to Mr. Curtis, the principal of the village academy, every time they met.

"And then these new-fangled books, filled with jaw-cracking words and falsehoods, chemistry, philosophy, and so on--why, I wonder if they ever made any man a better farmer, or helped a woman to make better butter and cheese?

Now, Mr. Curtis, it is _my_ opinion that young folks had better read their Bibles more.

Now I'll warrant that not one in ten can tell how many chapters there are in it.

My father knew from the time he was eight till he was eighty.

Can _you_ tell, Mr. Curtis?"

Mr. Curtis smiled a negative; and Mr. Greenough went laughing about all day.

Indeed, for a week, the first thing that came after his blunt salutation, was a loud laugh; and in answer to consequent inquiries came the recital of his victory over "the great Mr. Curtis."

He would not listen a moment to arguments in favor of sending Harriet to the academy, or of employing any other teachers in his district than old Master Smith, and Miss Heath, a superanuated spinster.

Mrs. Greenough was a mild creature, passionless and gentle in her nature as a lamb.

She acquiesced in all of her husband's measures, whether from having no opinions of her own, or from a deep and quiet sense of duty and propriety, no one knew.

Harriet was their pet.

As rosy, laughing, and healthy as a Hebe, she flew from sport to sport all the day long.

Her mother attempted, at first, to check her romping propensity; but it delighted her father, and he took every opportunity to strengthen and confirm it.

He was never so happy as when watching her swift and eager pursuit of a butterfly; never so lavish of his praises and caresses as when she succeeded in capturing one, and all breathless with the chase, bore her prize to him.

"Do stay in the house with poor ma, to-day, darling; she is very lonely," her mother would say to her, as she put back the curls from the beautiful face of her child, and kissed her cheek.

One day a tear was in her eye and a sadness at her heart; for she had been thinking of the early childhood of her Harriet, when she turned from father, little brother, playthings and all, for her.

Harriet seemed to understand her feelings; for instead of answering her with a spring and laugh as usual, she sat quietly down at her feet, and laid her head on her lap.

Mr. Greenough came in at this moment.

"How?

What does this mean, wife and Hatty?"

said he.

--"Playing the baby, Hat?

Wife, this won't do.

Harriet has your beauty; and to this I have no objections, if she has my spirits and independence.

Come, Hatty; we want you to help us make hay to-day; and there are lots of butterflies and grasshoppers for you to catch.

Come," he added; for the child still kept her eyes on her mother's face, as if undecided whether to go or stay.

"Come, get your bonnet--no; you may go without it.

You look too much like a village girl.

You must get more tan."

"Shall I go, ma?"

Harriet asked, still clinging to her mother's dress.

"Certainly, if pa wishes it," answered Mrs. Greenough with a strong effort to speak cheerfully.

She went, and from that hour Mrs. Greenough passively allowed her to follow her father and his laborers as she pleased; to rake hay, ride in the cart, husk corn, hunt hen's eggs, jump on the hay, play ball, prisoner, pitch quoits, throw dice, cut and saw wood, and, indeed, to run into every amusement which her active temperament demanded.

She went to school when she pleased; but her father was constant in his hints that her spirits and independence were not to be destroyed by poring over books.

She was generally left to do as she pleased, although she was often pleased to perpetrate deeds, for which her school-mates often asserted they would have been severely chastised.

There was an expression of fun and good humor lurking about in the dimples of her fat cheeks and in her deep blue eye, that effectually shielded her from reproof.

Master Smith had just been accused of partiality to her, and he walked into the school considerably taller than usual, all from his determination to punish Harriet before night.

He was not long in detecting her in a rogueish act.

He turned from her under the pretence of looking some urchins into silence, and said, with uncommon sternness and precision, "Harriet Greenough, walk out into the floor."

Harriet jumped up, shook the hands of those who sat near her, nodded a farewell to others, and walked gaily up to the master.

He dreaded meeting her eye; for he knew that his gravity would desert him in such a case.

She took a position behind him, and in a moment the whole house was in an uproar of laughter.

Master Smith turned swiftly about on his heel, and confronted the culprit.

She only smiled and made him a most graceful courtesy.

This was too much for his risibles.

He laughed almost as heartily as his pupils.

"Take your seat, you, he!

he!

you trollop, you, he!

he!

and I will settle with you by and bye," he said.

She only thanked him, and then returned to her sport.

So she passed on.

When sixteen, she was a very child in everything but years and form.

Her forehead was high and full, but a want of taste and care in the arrangement of her beautiful hair destroyed its effect.

Her complexion was clear, but sunburnt.

Her laugh was musical, but one missed that _tone_ which distinguishes the laugh of a happy feeling girl of sixteen from that of a child of mere frolic.

As to her form, no one knew what it was; for she was always putting herself into some strange but not really uncouth attitude; and besides, she could never _stop_ to adjust her dress properly.

Such was Harriet Greenough, when a cousin of hers paid them a visit on her return to the Newburyport mills.

She was of Harriet's age; but one would have thought her ten years her senior, judging from her superior dignity and intelligence.

Her father died when she was a mere child, after a protracted illness, which left them penniless.

By means of untiring industry, and occasional gifts from her kind neighbors, Mrs. Wood succeeded in keeping her children at school, until her daughter was sixteen and her son fourteen.

They then went together to Newburyport, under the care of a very amiable girl who had spent several years there.

They worked a year, devoting a few hours every day to study; then returned home, and spent a year at school in their native village.

They were now on their return to the mills.

It was arranged that at the completion of the present year Charles should return to school, and remain there until fitted for the study of a profession, if Jane's health was spared that she might labor for his support.

Jane was a gentle affectionate girl; and there was a new feeling at the heart of Harriet from the day in which she came under her influence.

Before the week had half expired which Jane was to spend with them, Harriet, with characteristic decision, avowed her determination to accompany her.

Her father and mother had opposed her will in but few instances.

In these few she had laughed them into an easy compliance.

In the present case she found her task a more difficult one.

But they consented at last; and with her mother's tearful blessing, and an injunction from her father not to bear any insolence from her employers, but to remember always that she was the independent daughter of an independent farmer, she left her home.

CHAPTER II.

A year passed by, and our Harriet was a totally changed being, in intellect and deportment.

Her cousins boarded in a small family, that they might have a better opportunity of pursuing their studies during their leisure hours.

She was their constant companion.

At first she did not open a book; and numberless were the roguish artifices she employed to divert the attention of her cousins from theirs.

They often laid them aside for a lively chat with her; and then urged her to study with them.

She loved them ardently.

To her affection she at last yielded, and not to any anticipations of pleasure or profit in the results, for she had been _educated_ to believe that there was none of either.

Charles had been studying Latin and mathematics; Jane, botany, geology, and geography of the heavens.

She instructed Charles in these latter sciences; he initiated her as well as he might, into the mysteries of _hic, hæc, hoc_, and algebra.

At times of recitation, Harriet sat and laughed at their "queer words."

When she accompanied them in their search for flowers, she amused herself by bringing mullen, yarrow, and, in one instance, a huge sunflower.

--When they had traced constellations, she repeated to them a satire on star-gazers, which she learned of her father.

The _histories_ of the constellations and flowers first arrested her attention, and kindled a romance which had hitherto lain dormant.

A new light was in her eye from that hour, and a new charm in her whole deportment.

She commenced study under very discouraging circumstances.

Of this she was deeply sensible.

She often shed a few tears as she thought of her utter ignorance, then dashed them off, and studied with renewed diligence and success.

She studied two hours every morning before commencing labor and until half past eleven at night.

She took her book and her dinner to the mill, that she might have the whole intermission for study.

This short season, with the reflection she gave during the afternoon, was sufficient for the mastery of a hard lesson.

She was close in her attendance at the sanctuary.

She joined a Bible class; and the teachings there fell with a sanctifying influence on her spirit, subduing but not destroying its vivacity, and opening a new current to her thoughts and affections.

Although tears of regret for misspent years often stole down her cheeks, she assured Jane that she was happier at the moment than in her hours of loudest mirth.

Her letters to her friends had prepared them for a change, but not for _such_ a change--so great and so happy.

She was now a very beautiful girl, easy and graceful in her manners, soft and gentle in her conversation, and evidently conscious of her superiority, only to feel more humble, more grateful to Heaven, her dear cousins, her minister, her Sabbath school teacher, and other beloved friends, who by their kindness had opened such new and delightful springs of feeling in her heart.

She flung her arms around her mother's neck, and wept tears of gratitude and love.

Mrs. Greenough felt that she was no longer alone in the world;

and Mr. Greenough, as he watched them--the wife and the daughter--inwardly acknowledged that there was that in the world dearer to his heart than his farm and his independence.

Amongst Harriet's baggage was a rough deal box.

This was first opened.

It contained her books, a few minerals and shells.

There were fifty well-selected volumes, besides a package of gifts for her father, mother, and brother.

--There was no book-case in the house; and the kitchen shelf was full of old almanacs, school books, sermons, and jest books.

Mr. Greenough rode to the village, and returned with a rich secretary, capacious enough for books, minerals, and shells.

He brought the intelligence, too, that a large party of students and others were to spend the evening with them.

Harriet's heart beat quick, as she thought of young Curtis, and wondered if he was among the said students.

--Before she left Bradford, struck with the beauty and simplicity of her appearance, he sought and obtained an introduction to her, but left her side, after sundry ineffectual attempts to draw her into conversation, disappointed and disgusted.

He _was_ among Harriet's visitors.

"Pray, Miss Curtis, what may be your opinion of our belle, Miss Greenough?"

asked young Lane, on the following morning, as Mr. Curtis and his sister entered the hall of the academy.

"Why, I think that her improvement has been astonishingly rapid during the past year; and that she is now a really charming girl."

"Has she interfered with your heart, Lane?"

asked his chum.

"As to that, I do not feel entirely decided.

I think I shall renew my call, however--nay, do not frown, Curtis; I was about to add, if it be only to taste her father's delicious melons, pears, plums, and apples."

Curtis blushed slightly, bowed, and passed on to the school room.

He soon proved that he cared much less for Mr. Greenough's fruit than for his daughter: for the fruit remained untasted if Harriet was at his side.

He was never so happy as when Mr. Greenough announced his purpose of sending Harriet to the academy two or three years.

Arrangements were made accordingly, and the week before Charles left home for college, she was duly installed in his father's family.

She missed him much; but the loss of his society was partially counterbalanced by frequent and brotherly letters from him, and by weekly visits to her home, which by the way, is becoming quite a paradise under her supervision.

--She has been studying painting and drawing.

Several well-executed specimens of each adorn the walls and tables of their sitting-room and parlor.

She has no "regular built" centre-table, but in lieu thereof she has removed from the garret an old round table that belonged to her grandmother.

This she has placed in the centre of the sitting-room; and what with its very pretty covering (which falls so near the floor as to conceal its uncouth legs), and its books, it forms no mean item of elegance and convenience.

Mr. Greenough and his help have improved a few leisure days in removing the trees that entirely concealed the Merrimac.

By the profits resulting from their sale, he has built a neat and tasteful enclosure for his house and garden.

This autumn shade-trees and shrubbery are to be removed to the yard, and fruit-trees and vines to the garden.

Next winter a summer-house is to be put in readiness for erection in the spring.

All this, and much more, Mr. Greenough is confident he can accomplish, without neglecting his _necessary_ labors, or the course of reading he has marked out, "by and with the advice" of his wife and Harriet.

And more, and better still, he has decided that his son George shall attend school, at least two terms yearly.

He will board at home, and will be accompanied by his cousin Charles, whom Mr. Greenough has offered to board gratis, until his education is completed.

By this generosity on the part of her uncle, Jane will be enabled to defray other expenses incidental to Charles's education, and still have leisure for literary pursuits.

Most truly might Mr. Greenough say,-- "The day is come I never thought to see, Strange revolutions in my farm and me."

A.

[Illustration: Decoration]